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Anticipation and freedom tingle through my veins as I turn my F-150 onto Chasm Drive. Trading in my SUV for this used pickup was the right move. Getting around safely is my number one priority. Being snowed in sounds fabulous, but navigating Chasm Drive for supply runs during the winter will be a necessity.
The tires bump against the rocky hill, and the cabin comes into focus. I have a list a mile long of things to figure out and work through, but living here fills me with excitement, and the hard work will be worth it.
The sun beams through the trees without a breeze, but I’ll be damned if I turn on the cabin’s air conditioning. Trying to keep bills to a minimum is my goal. I plan to combat the heat with lemonade and cool showers. If I’m lucky, the lake breeze will sneak through the trees from time to time.
Unpacking is simple, and I am ready to begin my cleaning spree. On the counter, I line up the products and everything else I need. I tell the speaker to crank the music, open every window and door, and pull my T-shirt over my head, revealing my black sports bra. The fewer clothes, the better. It’s hot as hell.
For the next several hours, I hustle from room to room, singing along while dusting, vacuuming, washing and changing sheets, and scrubbing toilets. You name it, I clean it. Three trash bags later, I have two spotless bathrooms, two bedrooms ready to be slept in, one kitchen organized to be cooked in, and one spotless living room. The only thing not done is the loft, but it will require more attention, and really, I want to make sure the second bedroom is in top shape for Mia’s first visit, whenever she can get her butt up here.
Three hours and four ’90s hip-hop playlists later, I am a sweaty mess. This place is as clean as it is ever going to be. I’m proud of the work I’ve done; cleaning can be crossed off the list. I’ll make this cabin mine in no time. But right now, I have to shower. Even I find myself offensive.
Living out here definitely has its advantages, and no neighbors is at the top of the list. I walk out of the sliding glass doors onto the deck where the midday sun beats heavily on the planks. While I love the summer heat, my skin is baking. I let the music continue, pull my ponytail elastic out so my hair tumbles free, and tug my tight sports bra over my head, exposing my breasts to the sizzling mountain air. I undo my sneakers, slide my blue jeans off, and toss everything into the corner. I can do that here. It is sensual and freeing to stand outside naked with the scorching sun penetrating my skin, sweat dripping.
The next song on the playlist pounds through the windows and vibrates off the trees. I am living my best life, hair loose, jamming to the beat, singing along so loud my lungs hurt. This is what I wanted—freedom, experiences, living every day to the fullest. I drop my ass low, lower than I would dare on a dance floor in a dark club. I bend in half, one hand on the deck plank near my foot, and I twerk, glistening breasts bouncing, creating tiny pools on the deck, as I belt out the lyrics. As my head hangs upside down between my legs, I recognize two work boots on the deck behind me.
I swing upright so fast, staring straight into the face of the man from the hardware store, scream louder than I was singing, hurdle the three deck steps, and slam through the first door available, which happens to be the outdoor shower.
Oh my god, oh my god. What the hell just happened? I can’t think straight. The music is still blaring, and I look through the tiny slats of the outdoor shower to spot Jackson’s backward Red Sox hat, his body hunched over in laughter.
“Stop the music! Stop!” Finally, my voice weasels through and the playlist stops. What am I supposed to do now? What is he doing here? Every nerve ending in my body is shot; I didn’t hear or see him.
He clears his throat and walks across the deck and toward the shower.
“Listen, I am so sorry to have shown up unannounced. I didn’t mean to scare you and certainly didn’t mean to interrupt you. When I was getting into my truck to leave the supply store, I spotted your debit card in the mud, so I took it inside in case you returned looking for it. When I gave it to Gerry, he told me your family owned the cabin at the end of this road. I did a couple of errands in Plymouth and figured I’d swing by and return it on my way back to town.”
Jackson takes a deep breath, and I watch through the shower slats as he nervously sways back and forth. “I’ll leave your card on the deck and go.”
My heart pounds in my chest and a tsunami of humiliation crashes through me.
“I’m sorry again. I don’t know what else to say, so I guess I’ll see you around. I apologize for repeating, but we rarely get views this hot in Meriden, never mind twice in one day, so I’ll consider myself lucky.” He isn’t aware I’m staring at him through the wooden shower planks, eating up his sweet smile, his sincerity, but mostly, the bulge filling the front of his jeans.
I remain absolutely quiet, because what should I say?No problem, thanks for returning my card. Stop by anytime?I don’t usually sing at the top of my lungs and twerk on the deck for the birds. Ugh, I cannot come to terms with the fact I was just caught, butt-ass naked, at what I thought was the most remote cabin, by the sexy man in work boots from the hardware store.
Solitude: Uncheck!
When I hear his truck reverse and drive up the rocky dirt road, I breathe a sigh of relief. Blood returns to my head and the panic begins to subside. Wait until Mia hears this one.
For now, I still need to shower. No music, no singing, no distractions, just the sound of water and the birds. If anyone drives up, I’ll hear it. I’ll have to figure out how to handle Jackson the next time I run into him. I also need to figure out who the hell Gerry is and how he knows my address.
First, though, I need to relax, wash off the built-up sweat and grime, and make some dinner.
There is nothing that holds a flame to an outdoor shower with the sun setting, the cool breeze, and the protection of the trees. Standing in awe of my surroundings, my breathing again under control, my thoughts drift back to Jackson’s excitement between the shower boards. Although I am mortified as hell he witnessed my junk bouncing in the air, I am damn happy I have been working out over the past few months. My ass is the firmest it’s been in years (thank you, Peloton), and I just got waxed before leaving. So there’s that. It was obvious he was turned on by what he saw.
We have hot guys where I’m from, and I’ve had hot guys check me out before, but there is something different about Jackson.
I haven’t been in town for one full day, and already I’ve managed to showcase my ass to the hardware store, drop my belongings in the mud, and get caught twerking naked on my back deck by a man I met hours earlier.
I shut off the shower and the realization that I don’t have a damn towel sets in. Nothing left to do but laugh at this point. Everything living in these woods has gotten familiar with me on an intimate level rather quickly, so walking back into the cabin stark naked is the least of my worries.
3
Holy hell. This morning when I walked through the hardware store parking lot, a surge of testosterone ripped through me. A woman leaning over the side of her truck was wearing the shortest shorts I’d ever seen. I’ve spent my entire life in Meriden, and I’ve never been so caught off guard. In a small town, you recognize every backside around, and this one was definitely new. The best thing was, she was oblivious to how much she was showing off.
I stood behind her before I even comprehended what I was doing. Clearly, I’m out of practice because she totally caught me staring at her stunning curves. She bounced off the truck tire and shimmied her shorts back into place, and I was stunned when she faced me. She’s a knockout, and I, for once, was at a loss for words.
From her toned, tanned legs to her slender curves and her engulfing blue eyes, she had me panting. I must’ve looked like a complete idiot standing there, but no way in hell could I have walked on by. Call it gravitational pull—whatever it was, I felt it immediately. As soon as we started talking, a connection zinged through me. Loose strands falling from the pile of hair knotted on top of her head blew in the breeze, and I wanted those wisps against my chest. She was undeniably sexy in her fitted T-shirt and short jean shorts, and the pickup truck put me in overdrive.
Not wanting to make a complete ass out of myself, I told her I hoped to see her again. But my mind reeled with images of her without shorts on, the shape of her body underneath the sheets. The dirty things I wanted to do to her are unspeakable. I walked away and didn’t dare turn to look back, but I’m pretty sure I felt her checking me out.
