Chapter 6
Aubree
I wake up with a jolt, disoriented for a moment, not sure where I am. The softness of the sheets beneath me is the first thing I notice, the warmth of the bed, the faint smell of wood and pine in the air. I blink a few times, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes, and then it hits me—I’m in Boone’s bed. I sit up slowly, the sheets rustling around me as I take in my surroundings. The room is quiet, still. The sunlight streams through the window, casting long shadows across the floor. The silence feels peaceful, but also oddly heavy, like something’s about to shift.
Boone. He’s not here.
My heart beats a little faster at the thought of him. But I shake it off. I don’t know why I should care about where he is. He’s just my bodyguard, here to do a job. Nothing more.
I pull myself out of bed, stretching my limbs, and head to the bathroom. The cold tile beneath my feet is a sharp contrast to the warm bed, and I welcome the brief shiver. I wash my face quickly, then run my fingers through my hair, trying to make myself presentable. My reflection stares back at me—eyes still a little puffy, face flushed from sleeping.
I take a deep breath. Time to face the day.
I step back into the bedroom, pulling on my hoodie and some sweatpants. I don’t feel like being glamorous today. I just need to get through the next few hours without completely falling apart.
I open the door to the hallway and step into the living room, but the house is quiet. Too quiet. I glance around, but Boone’s not inside. I walk toward the front door, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees outside drifting through the cracks of the cabin.
And then I hear it.
The rhythmic sound of an axe chopping into wood. The noise is sharp, steady, the impact of each swing echoing against the trees. Curiosity pulls me forward, and before I even realize it, I’m stepping outside, the cold air hitting me immediately.
I stop short when I see him.
Boone’s standing out there, by the woodpile, chopping firewood. But it’s not just the chopping that catches my attention—it’s the way he looks while doing it. His broad shoulders flex with each swing, the muscles in his back rippling beneath his skin. His shirt is gone, his tanned bare skin glistening in the morning light as beads of sweat dot his skin despite the cool air. The sun hits him just right, outlining the defined lines of his body. His chest is broad and sculpted, the tattoo on his arm and neck taking center stage. Wow.
I can’t help but stare.
I watch him work, my breath caught in my throat. I’ve been out of the dating game for a long time, not that I ever had much of a chance to date. My ex, Dustin, was... well, he was nothing like Boone. Dustin was scrawny, quiet, and predictable. Nothing about him made my heart race, nothing about him made me feel like my whole body was alive. But Boone? Everything about him is different. From the way he stands to the way he moves. Even the way he holds the axe seems like it’s effortlessly masculine.
I swallow, my heart pounding in my chest. What am I doing?
I remind myself to look away, but my gaze flicks back to him again. It’s almost like I can’t stop myself. His movements are so fluid, so purposeful, and I feel something stir inside me that I haven’t felt in... well, forever.
I can’t remember the last time I felt attracted to someone. Really attracted. Dustin didn’t stir anything in me like this, and after everything, I never thought I’d feel that kind of pull again.
But with Boone, it’s different.
I’m still standing here, rooted to the spot, when he looks up and catches me watching. His eyes meet mine across the distance, and for a second, everything freezes. I feel the heat rush to my cheeks, and I know I’m blushing.
Great. Just great.
But instead of looking away or giving me a hard time, Boone’s lips curl into a smile. That smile. It’s subtle but genuine, and for some reason, it feels like it melts all the resolve I had left.
"Morning," he calls out, his voice low and warm, carrying across the distance between us. "You need something?"
I force myself to move, walking toward him, trying to act like I’m not affected by what I just saw. “Uh... no, I was just... you know, enjoying the view.”
Boone chuckles, a rich, deep sound that makes my pulse quicken. “You want breakfast?”
Breakfast. Right.
I look at him, still trying to regain my bearings. “I guess. But, uh, only if you’re making it.”
His smile widens as he leans on the axe, his eyes gleaming with something playful. “Well, now I’m obligated. I’m a pretty damn good cook.”
I laugh, though it’s a little shaky. “We’ll see about that.”
His grin doesn’t fade, and I catch myself smiling back before I can stop it. There’s something about him that feels... easy, even though everything inside me is anything but. The tension I’ve been carrying with me starts to loosen just a little bit.
“Come on inside then, I’ll get something together,” he says, nodding toward the door behind me.
I follow him back inside, and as I walk past him, I can’t help but notice how his muscles shift under his skin, how his presence fills the space. He’s breathtaking.
As we step into the warmth of the cabin, I remind myself again: he’s my bodyguard. Nothing more.
But that doesn’t stop my heart from racing just a little faster.