Chapter 2
DAYTON
“ G ood girl.”
Those were the two words going through my head as I watched Gigi run for the kitchen. She’d escaped again. I’d fixed the fence four times, and still, she found her way out. But this time, she’d come back to me with a beautiful stranger in tow.
“She’s an escape artist,” I said. “You might be seeing her again if I can’t get this fence reinforced. I didn’t have a dog when I built this place.”
Why was I telling her this? She’d brought back my dog. I should have thanked her and sent her on her way. But that didn’t seem like the polite thing to do. So I’d invited her in. For what? To spend more time around her?
That was the part I didn’t want to admit.
I was drawn to this woman. I couldn’t stop looking at her.
It wasn’t just that stunningly beautiful face or the curves that filled out her sweatshirt and sweatpants.
It was something about the way she talked.
The way she looked at me. The way she held that damn dog I was growing to love.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.
There. I’d found my manners. But then I realized I didn’t have much of anything to drink.
“I have water and beer,” I said. “I can make you a cup of coffee.”
“Beer would be fine. I could use one right now.”
“I hope the dog didn’t put you out too much,” I said as I headed over to the fridge.
“She’s actually the highlight of my day. I’m here to get work done and, well, it’s not going well.”
“What kind of work’s that?”
I was curious about the type of person who would reserve a cabin off the beaten path to get work done. My work had me out in the heat all day with a team of other ex-military guys. We’d all relocated here for both the job opportunities and the veteran-heavy community.
“I’m an author,” she said. “I write thrillers.”
I was walking toward her when those words slowed my steps. An author? So she was super smart.
“I had a book hit the New York Times bestseller list a couple of years ago,” she said.
Gigi came rushing through the kitchen, whipping around me and heading straight for her. She jumped up on the couch and settled onto her lap.
“Looks like you’ve made a new friend,” I said, smiling—well, attempting to, anyway.
I wasn’t so good at smiling. But again, it seemed like the polite thing to do.
I handed her the beer and stepped over to sit in the recliner where I enjoyed my after-work relaxation every day. “So, you’re a famous author, huh?”
She laughed. “Hardly famous.”
“What’s your name? Maybe I’ve heard of you.”
I just wanted to know her name. That was my tricky way of getting it.
“Vanessa Harwick,” she said. “But I write as V.L. Harwick. Some men still won’t read thrillers written by women.”
That sucked. I didn’t read books at all, so I couldn’t say one way or another. But I was suddenly interested in reading this woman’s work. I cataloged her author name with plans to at least research what she’d written.
“So this is my follow-up novel,” she said. “I got a pretty good advance on the first one, but it won’t pay the bills forever.”
“You seem…”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to be rude.
“Young?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“I wrote my first book in college as part of a class assignment. It was a short story, but once I started, it was clear it was going to be anything but short. I was lucky enough to get a book deal out of it.”
“Sounds like you were talented, not lucky,” I said.
She shrugged and took another sip of beer. As she lowered the bottle again, she said, “There’s plenty of really talented authors just waiting for book deals. It’s a bit of timing and luck. I just happened to hit when publishers were looking for the type of books I write.”
I didn’t believe that for a second, but I had a feeling she wasn’t going to be swayed. So I let it stand.
“So, you have writer’s block?” I asked.
She nodded and sighed. “I guess it’s a term everyone knows—even non-writers. I thought getting away from the city would help clear my mind.”
She lived in the city. Did that mean she was from far away? Why was I hoping that wasn’t the case? It wasn’t like I was looking for a relationship or anything.
“What city?” I asked.
“Boone.”
Oh. That wasn’t far away at all. I’d never been there, but it was relatively close to Seduction Summit.
“So, what’s the story with the dog?” she asked, gesturing down at Gigi, who she’d been petting with her right hand while holding the beer bottle in her left. Gigi had curled into a ball—half on, half off her lap—and was fast asleep.
“She was my ex’s dog,” I said, staring at the adorable little mutt. “We were living together on base. Apparently, she bought this dog while I was overseas. When I came back, she told me she’d fallen in love with someone else. I guess she thought the dog was a good consolation prize.”
I spoke the words in a flat tone. No emotion whatsoever.
The truth was, it hadn’t surprised me one bit that Jeana had broken things off. We’d never really gotten along. But I liked the stability that came with being in a relationship.
“Was she?” Vanessa asked.
The question left me beyond confused. I tried to recall what I’d said about my ex. Nothing I could remember fit the question.
“Was she what?” I finally asked.
“A good consolation prize.”
Oh. Vanessa was talking about Gigi. I lowered my gaze and immediately felt that rush of warmth that spread through me when I looked at the adorable little furball.
“Best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I said. And I meant it.
But the truth was, I wanted more of that. I wanted to look at a woman—maybe even a child of mine someday—and feel this overwhelming sense of love. I just didn’t want to fall into another relationship where things weren’t quite right.
“That’s sweet,” she said. “And you live here permanently?”
I nodded. “A military buddy told me about this place. He got me on one of the logging crews. It’s a great gig. And you can’t beat living in the mountains.”
“You can’t.” She shook her head. “I should be able to find plenty of inspiration around here.”
“But you write thrillers. Maybe you need to be somewhere dark and dangerous.”
“Like in the middle of the woods in a cabin away from everyone?” She laughed. “My next book is supposed to be set in the woods. She’s on her honeymoon. Gradually, though, it becomes clear her husband isn’t who she thought he was. That’s my idea, anyway.”
I took another swig of beer as I watched her. She lit up as she talked about her book. I wondered if she realized that.
“Anyway, I can’t figure out how to start it,” she said. “I’ve typed in so many different things, and none are quite right.”
I couldn’t even begin to give her advice on that. Not that she was looking for advice, anyway.
“I could creep around the cabin later tonight, if that would help,” I said.
I was only partly joking. I’d be all too willing to creep around her cabin. Maybe look in some windows and catch a glimpse of her as she came out of the shower.
Yeah, that would be way wrong. But I let myself entertain the fantasy for a few seconds.
“No thanks,” she said. “I do a pretty good job of getting myself scared. I may need to borrow Gigi to keep me safe.”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you my phone number, and if you get creeped out about anything, just give me a call. I’ll come check it out for you.”
The appreciation in her eyes made my day. It also made me want to say more things that would invite that look from her.
“You’d do that?” she asked. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Dayton.” I grabbed my phone from the table next to where I sat. “What’s your number?”
I programmed it in and called it, at which point she informed me she’d left her phone back at her cabin. It didn’t matter, though. I now had a way to get in touch with her. And hopefully, she’d have my information saved to her phone soon enough.
I just hoped she’d call me for reasons that had nothing to do with being scared. Although, at this point, I’d take any excuse to see her again.