10. Peyton
PEYTON
Morning sunlight spills across the guest room when I wake up.
For one disorienting second, I forget where I am.
Then the scent of cedar and Daltyn’s hoodie wraps around me, bringing everything rushing back.
I’m here at Daltyn’s cabin.
Warmth curls through my chest before reality crashes through my ankle the second I move.
“Ow,” I mutter. I glance down at it. Still swollen and throbbing. But somehow not enough to ruin the strange sense of hope humming beneath my skin this morning.
Which is ridiculous. This is temporary.
Still... It’s the safest I’ve felt in a long time.
I tug the oversized hoodie tighter around myself before carefully limping from the room.
Daltyn stands in the kitchen wearing gray sweats and a black t-shirt, broad shoulders tense while he stares down at his phone with a frown.
His gaze lifts the second he hears me .
Immediately, his eyes drop to my ankle. “You shouldn’t be walking on that.”
“Good morning to you, too.”
His jaw tightens slightly.
Something feels... off. Different from last night. More guarded.
“Your medical boot should be delivered later today,” he says instead. “How about we go get breakfast and coffee?” The shift in subject is abrupt enough to throw me.
Still, I nod slowly. “That sounds good.”
“Okay.”
That’s it. No teasing. No smirking. No playful arguments about not wearing death traps.
Just clipped answers and distance.
My chest tightens unexpectedly.
Daltyn turns toward the staircase. “I’m going to get dressed.”
“Are you okay?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He pauses for a second without looking back. “Fine.”
Then he disappears upstairs.
I stare after him in confusion.
Last night, he carried me everywhere, flirted with me, held my panties hostage, and looked at me like he wanted to devour me.
Now he can barely look me in the eye.
What the hell happened overnight?
With a sigh, I limp back to my room and start getting dressed. The only shoes I have are flip-flops. I’m sure they aren’t great for an injured ankle, but the only other shoes I have are the high-heeled sandals I wore at the airport.
My ankle throbs like it’s saying, “Not happening.”
I return wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a t-shirt, and flip-flops. I’m not wearing his hoodie. After the weird distance between us this morning, it just doesn’t feel right.
He’s already by the door. He gives me a cursory glance, frowning at my feet.
“It’s all I have.” I hate the desperation in my voice.
Pathetic, Peyton.
“We’ll get you some shoes after breakfast. One you can wear with your boot when it arrives.”
He holds the door open, and I limp out. And damn, my ankle really hurts.
He helps me into his SUV carefully and efficiently, like taking care of me is second nature to him.
I take longer than usual to fasten my seat belt, trying to fight back the pain I’m feeling.
Between my ankle and the cold shoulder I’m getting from him, it feels like pain is coming at me from every direction.
He starts the SUV and drives away, not saying anything.
I grab my phone and pretend to browse social media.
He reaches over and turns on a sports channel discussing the upcoming hockey season. Clearly, it’s a sign he doesn’t want to be bothered by me until we get wherever we’re going.
I look up when he parks. It’s a cute brick building with a sign above the door reading Maple Sugar Diner.
I push the door open with my shoulder and slide out before he can say a word. I grit my teeth at the pain that shoots through my ankle when my flip-flop hits the parking lot. But I soldier through it, limping to the sidewalk.
“Peyton. You okay?”
“Fine.” I hurry toward the door, desperate to get weight off my ankle.
He tries to grab my elbow, but I yank it away. His stare bores into the side of my face, but I ignore him.
He opens the door for me, and I step inside. The smell of pancakes and coffee makes my mouth water.
This time, I don’t fight him when he grabs my elbow and guides me to a table in the back. I slide into the booth, then he slides in across from me.
“Get your ankle up.” He moves like he’s going to grab it, but I lift it and place it on his booth. I angle myself so my ankle faces away from him.
He blinks at me, then opens his mouth.
The waitress comes over.
“Hey, sugar. My name is Tabitha. I’ll be your waitress today.”
She doesn’t look at me. Her body—and stare—is directed at him.
I roll my eyes. Irrational jealousy shoots through me, but I stomp it down beneath my sore ankle.
She can have the broody goalie. I don’t need his hot-and-cold behavior.
“Peyton. What do you want to drink?”
I blink at the menu, having no idea when it was set in front of me. “Oh... um...” I flip it open and spot the drinks. “Iced caramel latte.”
He orders, and then she disappears.
I study my menu, ignoring Daltyn. He’s staring at me. I feel it.
“What are you going to get?” His tone is softer than I’ve heard it all morning. It reminds me of the guy last night.
But I’m not falling for it.
Tabitha returns with our drinks, sparing me from having to answer.
She takes our order and menus, then flirts with Daltyn some more before she finally leaves. I suck down my coffee to stop myself from saying something I’ll regret.
When she’s gone, Daltyn tries to talk to me again. Luckily, I’m saved from conversing with him when my phone rings.
I grab it, then frown at the screen.
My boss.
Why’s he calling me on a Sunday?
“I have to take this.” I get up from the booth, limping toward the bathroom, and answer.
“Peyton. It’s John Martin. I’m so sorry to call you on a Sunday, but I wanted to give you an update.”
“Hi, John. Yeah. No problem.”
I lean against the wall, my heart sinking as he tells me how bad the damage is.
“At this point, we can’t even work remotely. The servers were destroyed.”
My heart sinks. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“I wish I had better news. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Well... enjoy your unexpected vacation.”
Vacation. Right. This is anything but.
I force a fake laugh and then end the call.
The publishing job I worked so hard for seems like a distant dream. And for the first time, I fear that it’s about to vanish.
And then what will I do?
Great. Can this day get any worse?
I start limping toward the table when I see it. Tabitha is at the booth, talking and laughing with Daltyn. He has a smile on his face.
He doesn’t see me.
I whirl around, heading to the bathroom. I just need to cry for a few minutes. Then I’ll go back there and pretend not to be miserable.
By the time I return to the table, a plate of pancakes and bacon is waiting for me. I barely have an appetite at this point, but I couldn’t hide out in the bathroom forever. Daltyn would’ve probably sent Tabitha after me, and I’m in no mood to go to jail for punching that flirty bitch in the mouth.
I slide into my seat, flashing a fake smile at Daltyn. My eyes drop to my food. “Looks good.”
“Are you okay?”
I grip my fork harder than necessary. “Fine.”
He blows out a breath. “I’m sorry about?—”
“No worries,” I cut in, my voice fake with a cheeriness I don’t feel. “Let’s just eat.”
Silence falls over the table.
I barely taste the food but go through the motions anyway.
“The phone call.” Daltyn’s voice causes me to jolt. “Who was it?”
I look up at him. “Work.”
“Oh. Are you able to work remotely?”
I wish I’d never told him that.
I shake my head. “Not yet. My boss said he’ll keep me posted.”
He stares at me. “He must’ve said more. You were gone for eleven minutes.”
I still, my fork halfway to my mouth.
“That’s... oddly specific.”
He just stares at me.
“In a nutshell, the servers are down. So I can’t work.”
He nods. “Sorry, Peyton. It’ll work out. ”
Easy for him to say. He has a job. One he starts in two weeks.
But I simply nod, not wanting to get into it.
“Was there more?” he asks.
“More what?”
“To the conversation. That wasn’t an eleven-minute conversation.”
“I had to pee. Fix my hair and stuff.”
He nods, still studying me.
“What’s with the questions?”
He looks a little angry. “Just trying to make conversation.”
I nearly bite out that he should go talk to Tabitha, but instead I say, “Unnecessary.”
We fall into silence again. He keeps staring at me while I try to eat.
Tabitha returns. I grip my butter knife like I’m ready to stab her in the eye.
“Need anything else, sugar?”
Daltyn’s eyes are on me. “Sweetheart. You need anything?”
I glance up at him, bewildered. He’s staring at me.
“Since when am I sweetheart?”
Those blue eyes pierce me like a knife. “You need anything?”
There’s so much I could say, but it’s not worth it. I don’t feel like playing whatever game he has going on today.
“Another coffee, please. In a to-go cup.”
Tabitha nods stiffly, then turns back to Daltyn. “What about you, sugar?”
He shakes his head, and she leaves.
“Peyton.” He leans closer, his voice tinged with anger. “What’s going on with you? ”
“With me?” My voice rises. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“Prop your ankle. Then talk to me.”
“Oh, now you’re worried about my ankle?”
“Of course I am. I’ve been worried.”
I glare at him. “Oh, yes. I see that.” Sarcasm drips from my tone.
Tabitha comes over with my coffee and the check. “If you’re ready, I can take your card.”
I grab my coffee and get up, heading for the door.
“Peyton,” I hear Daltyn yell behind me, but I don’t stop.
Ankle be damned.
I’m getting the hell out of here.
He looks angrier than I’ve ever seen him as he hurries out of the diner.
I look away, still leaning against his SUV.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is low, but every word is laced with pure rage.
“Nothing. I just want to go...” I stop myself before I say home. It’s not my home. It’s his. “To the cabin.”
He unlocks the door and helps me inside. I’m hurting too much to fight him.
He reaches over me, fastening my seat belt. “No. You need shoes.”
His lips are too close. He’s too close.