Cabin Fever (Cascade Mountain Harem #1)

1. Perpetual Bachelor

1

PERPETUAL BACHELOR

Work has been crazy with the near-constant travel. It’s a grind, one monotonous week after week another of airplanes, rental cars, and hotel rooms. Planning and scheduling travel reservations takes up a good portion of my time. Expense reports for my trips are due soon after leaving a customer’s location. Fuck, it never ends. My bad attitude has been coming for a few months; planning this trip so I can stay over a weekend and not fly back home will help me with the stress.

Home is not the best name for it. It’s a small studio near the airport. It has storage for my garments, and that’s about it. My routine between trips has been finely tuned for efficiency. Hiring an assistant to do the repetitive tasks allows me to drop off a suitcase, do the blasted expense report, sleep, and spend a day outside. When I return from whatever I’ve done away from my tiny apartment, it’s watching TV, then going to bed. On a travel day, my packed bag with clean clothes is ready to grab, toss in the car, and go to the airport.

While I'm away, my assistant stops by my flat, as she calls it. She cleans up from the weekend, changes my sheets, and ensures all my supplies are stocked. She also does my laundry, dry-cleaning, shopping, and packing for the next trip. She's paid handsomely, and we hardly ever see each other, mainly communicating by email or text. It's the same every time—lather, rinse, repeat.

This past week was long and busy; the next one promises nothing less. Scheduling the double assignment because the clients are near my old stomping grounds allows me to spend the weekend in between relaxing in a resort in the incredible mountains of the Cascades. I haven’t been to the state of my birth for over fifteen years. My family has moved out of Oregon, and we rarely talk, let alone visit, so nothing grounds me to what used to be home.

After living in Texas for twenty years, my tiny studio apartment is the last place I want to spend the weekend during the Lone Star State summer. My generous salary allows me to stash away enough for a better place or to move to a cooler locale. But there is little reason to invest in a huge house that sits empty most of the year. It’s sufficient without frills, and my savings account continues to grow. Also, DFW Airport is a good hub if you fly nationwide. But retirement is within reach, and planning the second half of my life can begin in a few more years. The road warrior grind sucks; it’s hard to have a positive attitude while edging close to burnout.

To recharge, I push any thoughts of work out of my mind. The Cascade Mountains are the perfect place, with lakes, nature trails, and a slower pace of life. I circled this weekend on my calendar, looked at different locations, and found this new resort, Shadow Bend Cabins, nestled along the route, snaking eastward through the mountain pass.

Turning onto the minor road that winds down a tiny valley bordering the river alongside the twisty highway, my mind floods with memories of this region. Towering Douglas fir trees line the upper slope, and with a steep downgrade on the other side, everything appears familiar—a déjà vu-type of buzz in my consciousness.

The tributary flows through the bottom of the modest cut, interrupted by runs of rapids, making this stretch a destination for kayak adventures. The GPS in my rental beeps, and I have about 500 feet until my turn. Slowing down, I watch for the intersection and steer onto a gravel road that abruptly twists lower before it flattens and winds adjacent to the picturesque waterway.

When I pull into the parking lot and park in front of a rustic lodge, another ping of nostalgia echoes in my mind. It grows even stronger when I exit the car and climb the steps to the registration entrance.

I’ve been here before.

The welcome bell rings as I enter the empty reception area. It’s cozy with a fire in the fireplace. The day isn’t cold, but the nights bring colder temperatures at this elevation. The lodge has a display of pamphlets that I browse, recognizing places I visited growing up in the valley. A nearby ski resort would be filled with recreational skiers in the winter. During the summer, the river, with its class -ive rapids, draws the eye of thrill seekers. My sole goal, however, is a quiet weekend to enjoy the mountain air.

“Sorry!” a female voice calls from down the adjoining hallway. “I was moving the laundry. I’m coming!”

My eyes widen at the familiar face, and I search my recollections as she examines me. Our necks tilt as we try to bring up old memories.

“Amy?” I’m the first to speak as I recognize an old girlfriend of mine from twenty years ago. While we’ve both aged, her eyes sparkle, reminding me of when I was eighteen and she was seventeen.

“Kurt Darby, as I live and breathe.” Her voice has that tint of familiarity that solidifies my memory. We close the distance, our arms wrapping around each other to hug comfortably. As I rub her back, her perfume fills my senses with high school memories.

“How long has it been?” Amy asks as we step back and gaze at each other. The years have taken their toll on us, but we’ve kept in decent shape. Her figure has a few more curves, but her eyes and smile hold my focus—as always.

“I haven’t been home in fifteen years, but that was for a family reunion,” I confess. “We are friends on Facebook, though, right?”

“Oh, yeah! What a horrible place that turned out to be. I hardly ever log on anymore.”

“Same.” I chuckle, turning and sweeping my hands at the cozy lobby space and the grounds outside the large window. “Why does this seem so familiar?”

Amy grins at me, crosses her arms below her breasts, and starts humming a tune that sparks memories. An ancient memory teases me while I admire her figure and voice. She’s wearing a flannel, button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves. Half the front buttons are undone, exposing a white tank top stretched by her ample bosom. I hum along as I recognize the tune, then break out into a verse that pops into my brain.

“ Dear, Liza, a hole! ” We sing together and start laughing.

“There you go, Kurt.” Amy smiles, “You remember one of the songs. Does that help?”

“Outdoor school?” It all comes back to me as I examine the lodge’s details.

Amy was a junior in high school while I was a senior. We were camp counselors for two weeks in the mountains. Each counselor was in charge of about a half dozen kids. We stayed in rustic cabins using sleeping bags on bunks at night. The fortnight was packed with activities around the campground, doing science experiments, nature hikes, and having fun.

“That’s right, Bogey.” She laughs, and her cheeks turn crimson.

“Bogey.” I snort—my camp nickname pings in my memory. Grinning, I recall hers. “That’s a blast from the past, Froggy.”

“Now stop, let’s not say that name again.” Amy's face reddens. We must be remembering similar things because her nipples are now visible outlines beneath her bra and the tank top. “Man, that was an exciting week, though.”

“The best time was the night before the kids arrived.” My grin and wink make her break out into another blushing giggle, confirming she remembers the same night. “Did you ever marry?”

“Yes.” Amy nods, shrugging. “We divorced five years later. Thank God we didn't have children. How about you?”

“Perpetual bachelor.”

“That tracks.” She smirks and walks behind the counter to scan the guest register. “Let me see. Here you are—Kurt Darby.” She chuckles to herself while I lean over to peer at the book.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, turning it around to check the names of the other guests. Amy squeaks and pulls it back towards her, but I catch the two familiar names before she does. “Leah and Paige from high school? Are they coming this weekend, too?”

“Yes, they are, but that’s not why I laughed. Your cabin is the same one you were assigned for outdoor school.” She smiles as she pauses, glancing at me. “I remember it well, especially that one night.” Her eyes flare as she drops her gaze to my crotch. The memory of that night and how she’s checking me out sends a chill up my spine as I harden. She snaps her head back up, her blush deepening. “But I assure you everything has been completely modernized. No more small bunks and airy walls.”

My cheeks flush because I recollect my cabin all too well. We’d snuck away from the group while the other counselors enjoyed campfire songs and s’mores and spent that first night in each other’s arms. It was a memorable night; we’d pushed many boundaries that night. My mind fills with memories of our short but intense relationship. Our relationship started with a date at the drive-in theater in town, where Amy slid across the bench seat of my truck and gave me a surprisingly good blow job. We continued meeting at her house throughout the following weeks while her mother worked late. We angled our bodies into various twisty positions, exploring sensual pleasures without ever having intercourse. After the night alone in my cabin, though, we had to lead the outdoor school campers, limiting our time for the rest of that week.

“That was a special night.” I reach for her hand, and she places hers in my palm. I squeeze her fingers, lifting and kissing the back of her hand.

When I glance back, she’s staring at me with a warm smile. “It was so long ago, Kurt.”

“It feels much shorter when I’m holding your hand and looking into your eyes,” I say. That I'm honest about that aloud surprises me, but I'm not going to deny how I feel. Amy sighs, and we take a moment to enjoy the memories and our brief connection before she lets go of my hand.

“You always were difficult to resist.” She reviews the ledger, runs her fingers past my name, taps it, and peers up at me. “You saw their names, so I may as well tell you. Yes, Paige and Leah will be here. They are together now, after… Well. They can tell their story.”

“Wait, together-together?” I ask.

“You are in Oregon, Kurt.” Her cheeks color again. “They married a few years back.”

“I’d never suspected,” I say, then cringe. "I mean. There’s nothing wrong with it; I have many…”

Amy’s good-natured laugh cuts me off. “Stop it before you get in trouble.”

I shrug, chagrined, shifting my eyes and wanting to change the subject. “So you own this place now?”

“I bought this after my divorce. I needed to get away and make a new start. I had money from my parents’ inheritance and invested it in modernizing and renovating. We’re featured in several magazines as the go-to spot during ski and rafting seasons.”

“Congratulations!” I say with a grin. “That’s a big accomplishment. It's incredible. You've done a great job fixing it up.”

“I did alright.” Her face fades into a softer expression, like she’s thinking back in time. “I love it up here, and I have a great staff that helps me.”

“Why are you doing laundry?” I ask with a tilt of my head.

“They’re off this week,” she explains, grinning at me as she shrugs. “I usually shut down the resort for one weekend during the summer to enjoy the mountains. My people get a little vacation, and I get some peace. You'd have to find somewhere else if you hadn’t already confirmed your reservation. I have to say, I was curious about if it was you when I saw your name.”

“Amy, I don’t want to be a bother. I can stay in the valley.”

“You’re no bother at all, Kurt,” she says, smiling brightly again. “Paige, Leah, you, and I will be the only campers for the next few days. I think it will be fun to reminisce on old times.”

I lean back and cross my arms, looking at her with a soft smile. “I think so, too. I should unpack and change out of the business clothes,” I say, waving down at my gray slacks and black shoes. My white button-up shirt is wrinkled from the day of work, followed by the ninety-minute ride in the car.

Amy looks at me and bites her lip as her eyes sweep down my body and back up. I twist my head and chuckle but ogle her back. Her breasts are hard to ignore. She reaches under the desk and slides a key across the counter.

“You’re in cabin ten, around the loop, and right behind the lodge here,” Amy says, pointing out the window. “I’m going to finish moving the laundry along. After I'm done, I might drop by later and see if you need anything.”

I grab the key and use it to salute as I walk out. “Sounds perfect. I hope we can catch up more.”

Her eyes glow as she waves at me, and I can’t help feeling the same arousal welling up in my gut as when we were together as teenagers. Chemistry never completely goes away.