Chapter 3
Jake
“Even in the darkest corners of my woods, the promise of dawn keeps hope alive, waiting to burst forth with the morning sun.”
-The Forest -
T he morning light filters through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. I stir awake and feel someone beside me, whose name I don’t know.
“Hey, you need to go.”
She blinks, her blue eyes widening in surprise. A hint of hurt flashes across her face, and a pink blush colors her fair skin. Silently, she gathers her things, runs her hands through her blonde hair, and leaves, closing the door softly behind her.
Alone again, I head to the shower, letting the water wash over me, hoping it might cleanse more than just my skin.
My mind races, thinking about the drive to Pearl Mountain, Vermont. I grab the soap, pour some in my hands, and rub it over my body. The smell does nothing to quiet my thoughts.
Boston has been my home for six years now. After high school, the city offered a fresh start where I studied business. That’s what my father wanted, but really wished I wouldn’t need to use it any time soon. Then, he died six months ago, and my mom has been managing the hotel.
We own a Boutique hotel in Pearl Mountain, Vermont. A charming place that’s been in our family for generations. Once a grand mansion now turned into a boutique hotel.
I wanted nothing to do with it. This was his world, not mine.
Growing up, I hated how the hotel claimed all his time and attention, leaving just scraps for us. Later, I found out he had other reasons for not spending time with us, but still, I wanted nothing to do with managing it. I crave the adrenaline of the outdoors, not sitting at a desk going through spreadsheets.
The droplets of water hit my back. The conversation I had with my mom the other night replays in my mind along with the tears she held back. “You know this stuff, Jake,” her words echo in my mind. “The hotel needs you. I need you. Don’t do it for him. Do it for us.”
My jaw clenches at the thought of taking over the hotel, a bitter taste filling my mouth. Tension builds in my shoulders, creeping up my neck. The water turns cold. The icy spray hits my skin, causing me to gasp and shiver.
It’s a temporary distraction, but it doesn’t stop the memories from breaking through. I remember staying up late to show him my Boy Scout badges—the way my heart would pound with anticipation, but I’d fallen asleep waiting. All of that just for him to not be there the next morning when I woke up.
I close my eyes, letting the water wash over me, steeling myself for the responsibilities I can’t escape. The hotel is struggling, and Mom has no idea what she’s doing. If I don’t step in, the next conversation might be about selling, and the finality in her tone told me it’s a prospect she dreads as much as I do.
After turning off the water and stepping out of the shower, I grab a towel to dry off. I put on gray sweatpants and a T-shirt. Grabbing my bags, making sure I don’t forget my lifelines; my laptop for work, my camera to capture contents for my social media page, and my climbing gear. Everything gets loaded into the Jeep. These items, they’re more than just gadgets; they’re extensions of my passion, and they go along with me everywhere.
I get into the driver’s seat and start the engine. Hitting play on my go-to playlist before hitting the road. Each mile takes me farther away from the city and closer to the mountains.
The thought of climbing those mountains brings a weird comfort. There’s something about the physical pain, the way my muscles burn with every push upwards. It’s straightforward, a distraction that lets me pretend I’m in control, keeping the real, gnarlier stuff at bay for longer.
Two hours into the drive, I pull over to grab a snack and fill the tank. I walk inside the store, grabbing a protein bar and a water bottle.
I’m standing in line when this woman walks in. My eyes are drawn to her as she makes her way towards the restroom.
She’s wearing high waist shorts that cling to her curves so perfectly, and I’ve never wanted to be a piece of fabric so much in my life. The back of her shirt says, 5’3” but my attitude is 6’3”.
I laugh as she disappears into the bathroom. Her waist is slim, but her bottom is definitely not. She’s thick and sexy—or maybe I need to upgrade my vocabulary, because sexy is not enough to describe all that.
“Sir, are you in line or not?” a woman says from behind me, snapping me out of my daze.
“Sorry,” I smile at her, moving towards the cashier to pay for my stuff.
“Thanks,” I grab my bag and receipts and walk back to my car.
Putting the bag in the passenger seat, that’s when I realized I didn’t pay for my gas.
Shit, I got a little distracted.
Turning around, I head back inside. I’m about to open the door when someone bumps into me, their snacks scattering across the floor.
My hand grazes as we both reach for the Snicker bar, sending a jolt of unexpected electricity through me. Looking up, I meet with large, doe-like brown eyes, thick black eyebrows, and a pretty round face framed by beautiful curls, staring back at me.
It’s her, the woman with the sexy ass.
“Thank you, and I’m sorry,” she says, sounding embarrassed.
My gaze lingers on her, longer than it should. She is like a memory just out of reach. My brow knits in confusion as she starts to walk away, snapping me out of my thoughts. That’s when I noticed her snickers bar in my hand. I call out to her, and she turns around as I hand her the snack bar.
“Thank you,” she says again, tucking her curls behind her ear. She visibly swallows, and my eyes follow the movement from her throat to her chest. She has nice size boobs. Not too big, not too small, perfect enough that I could cup my hands around them.
I flirt with her a little, enjoying how her cheeks turn a shade darker. Giving her a pretty, natural look. Her eyes are a bit reddish, as if she’s been crying, but they’re so pretty and mysterious. Her scent, something sweet and flowery, fills the space between us.
“Well, uh, thanks again,” she stutters. I chuckle as she walks away, her steps a bit hurried. My eyes follow her, and damn, that ass.
I stand there, still puzzled, wondering why she feels like someone I should know. Pretty sure I would remember her, and that ass.