Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
K atrina
He left to get supplies.
I spent the hour and a half he was gone tidying up the cabin the best I could without heat or running water. I found a dented bucket under one of the cabinets, so I filled it with clean snow from outside and used that to wipe down the dusty counters and tabletops.
Who was I kidding? Even that small touch of my lips on his cheek still sent warmth gushing through me. I hadn’t been so turned on in ages. I didn’t think I could feel that way, not after all I’d gone through with Pete. Harbor was so different, though. Strong, kind. Maybe on the outside he was all muscle and grimace, but he had an inner softness that made all my senses go haywire.
So I channeled those mixed feelings into cleaning and airing out the Dryden cabin. Of all the places I imagined the richest family in town owning, this was not it. At the same time, I was relieved it was hidden and out of the way. No one would have thought to look for me here. I finally had space to figure out what to do next.
Someone knocked three times in three seconds, and my heart leapt a little. That was the signal Harbor had told me to expect. “Don’t open it for two or four. Promise,” he had said.
He was so cute when he was giving orders.
I tossed the dirty rag into the bucket of melted snow and glanced down at myself. There was no way I was seducing anyone looking the way I did right then. Dirt and grime were primordial condoms.
No. I was not going to think of condoms or any activities which may or may not require them.
I jogged over to the door and opened it. Harbor stood there, shopping bags in various colors dangling from his arms.
“Wow,” I said, taking two of the bags from his hands and ignoring the tingling graze of his warm skin against mine. “I didn’t realize St. Olaf had this many shops.”
“I didn’t think you had much, and it’s winter. You need to be prepared in case you’re snowed in, or something.” He set his pile of bags on the counter then pointed over his shoulder at the driveway. “One that note, it’s starting to snow. Should we be worried?”
“Hopefully not.” Like I knew. My pay-as-you-go cell phone plan didn’t include a weather app, and I wasn’t about to waste my valuable cash on checking it when I could look out the window and expect the worst. I focused instead on the contents of the shopping bags. “They plow really well here. Wow, you got everything.”
“Here.” He shoved a small white paper bag into my hands. I opened it to find toothpaste and a toothbrush, hair brush, some sort of moisturizer, and soap. “There’s spare clothes in that bag.” He pointed to a larger, plain brown bag.
“You did not just get the necessities,” I said, opening the clothes bag while he stowed a flat of water bottles in the refrigerator. He had bought me thick, warm flannel pajamas, three pairs of fluffy socks, an argyle-print sweater, and fleece-lined yoga pants that felt like sinking my fingers into a cloud of heaven. The last gift Pete had given me was signing the divorce papers, and—well, that had actually been the one thing I wanted. “This is amazing. Harbor, thank you. You really didn’t have to do this.”
He shrugged and went back outside. I followed him to the door and watched as he carried a cord of firewood to the side of the cabin and covered it with a tarp. He moved with sure strides. He hadn’t removed his winter coat, but judging by the ease with which he carried all these heavy objects, it wasn’t difficult to imagine rows of muscles underneath his winter layers.
“I have a wireless hotspot,” he said, bringing in a few pieces of firewood and placing them in the grate. “We can do some research while we make dinner.” He neatened the pile of wood, then straightened. “Unless you’d like me to leave you alone. I don’t want to impose.”
“You brought treasure.” I gestured at the wealth he had brought into the cabin. It made it seem shinier, lighter, and far less grim. Plus, he’d bought lemon-scented cleaning solution, so that would go a lot further than my melted snow adaptation. I smiled and picked up a styrofoam bowl of ramen. “The least I can do is make you dinner before you go.”
A grin flashed across his face, and he turned to the fireplace. He struck one of the long matches from the box he’d bought, and the flame danced at the edge of the stick as he lowered it to the logs. Soon, with a crackle and snap, the fire roared to life, lending a smoky warmth to the room. “You look cold,” he said, stretching out his hands near the flames. “Why don’t you get changed? I’ll see what I can pull together.”