2. Lila
2
LILA
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, the wind battering my car as I follow the twisting path through the mountains. It was supposed to be a sunny weekend here in Crave County—this storm rolled in out of the blue. Knowing my luck, it’s probably following me. It sure feels like I have a gray cloud hanging over me these days.
I drive as slowly as possible, wincing at the torrents of snow that swirl outside my window. Shadowy trees are shaking from side to side all around me, and I can barely see where I’m going. The path climbs higher and higher, and finally, I pull over on a snowy bank by the roadside, not daring to drive any farther. After a few minutes of waiting for the storm to calm, my best friend’s name flashes up on my phone, and I swallow hard as I answer it.
“Lila? Are you okay?”
Audrey’s voice is like a warm hug, but I have to jam the phone to my ear to hear her over the weather outside.
“I’m okay,” I tell her. “Did you get my text?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m calling! I was worried. That’s what happens when your best friend sends a vague message about running away to live in the mountains…”
Despite everything, I smile. “All I said was I’ve rented a vacation cabin for two nights.”
She sighs. “I hate the thought of you all alone, feeling miserable in some freezing cabin in the middle of nowhere. Is this because of the video, Lila? Is that why you’re going?”
My throat tightens. “Partly.”
Audrey makes an angry noise in her throat. “Those internet trolls…they’re horrible! You should take some of them to the mountains with you and throw them off the top.”
“Not a bad idea.” I try to laugh, but thinking about the video makes my stomach churn, and I quickly change the subject. “It’s not just the video. This year is off to a crappy start and I need a break from it all. Just for a couple of days.”
“You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
I bite my lip. Part of me would love my best friend to be here, but she has her own life back in Denver, and I can’t expect her to drop everything to follow me into the mountains while I sulk.
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Honest.”
“Okay, but I’m just a phone call away if you need me. Say the word and I’ll drive to…wherever the heck you are…where are you?”
“The cabin is on Cherry Mountain, near a town called Cherry Hollow.”
Audrey sniffs. “Never heard of it.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I ask, suppressing a grin. My best friend is a city girl through and through. If something is located more than a mile outside Denver’s city limits, she’s not interested.
“Anyway, I better get going,” I say. “I’m still ages away from the cabin and I want to get there before this storm gets any worse.”
“Okay, well drive safe. Have fun. Oh, and no scrolling through comments on that video! Promise?”
I suck in a breath. “Promise.”
We say our goodbyes, and I drive onward, thinking of Audrey. My best friend is the only good thing in my life right now, and I’m more grateful than she knows. She’s my rock, and I don’t know what I would have done without her these past few weeks.
Everything started going wrong on January 1 st . The company I worked for decided to ‘streamline their process’ for the new year. Turns out this meant replacing all their remote customer service reps like me with an AI chatbot called Greg. I was laid off along with a bunch of my colleagues, and I’m still bitter as heck.
Screw you, Greg.
Losing my job also meant losing my apartment. I was already struggling to pay my rent, and the bills piled up fast. I have to be out by the end of January, which means moving back to my parents’ house in Colorado Springs. The idea doesn’t exactly thrill me. My mom and I never had a great relationship. She always has something negative to say about my body, my clothes, my hair, the way I sit, stand, breathe. I can almost hear her now, talking to my dad like I’m not in the room, muttering about me in that fake-concerned voice she always uses.
“She’s definitely gained weight, hasn’t she, Andrew?”
“Oh, Andrew, look at the way Lila’s slouching.”
“Her double chin isn’t very flattering, is it, Andrew?”
My dad just nods along. He’s usually too absorbed in his phone to notice much else—probably on Tinder. His string of affairs is an open secret that my mom refuses to talk about. She prefers to take out her anger on everyone except the man who truly deserves it. I moved out as soon as I could, and it’s not a place I’m desperate to rush back to.
Then came the video, which sure didn’t help things. Going viral for all the wrong reasons was the cherry on top of a crappy new year, and I had to get away from it all. The ad for a vacation cabin in the mountains popped up on my feed, and I booked it spontaneously.
I know, I know…it would have been smarter to save the money.
But God, I really need this.
So this morning I filled my suitcase with a few clothes and all my favorite romance novels, determined to escape. After all, running away from my problems is what I do best. When things get tough, I shut out the world, burying myself in books and hiding in my apartment for weeks. But this time, I’m running away a bit more literally. For two nights, anyway. That’s all I could afford.
I just hope I can find the darn place in this storm.
After stopping several more times to wait out the weather, I finally pull up outside the tiny wooden cabin six hours later than planned. My headlights illuminate its weathered log walls and snow-topped roof. It’s perfect, and I let out a contented sigh, ready to get out of the car and finally stretch my legs. But something stops me. The cabin’s windows are glowing orange, and a shadow is moving inside.
With a frown, I squint around me, looking into the darkness. I can just make out a large pickup truck parked nearby, and my frown deepens. I unlock my phone and double-check the address, scanning the photos. It’s definitely the right place. So why is there somebody already here?
Maybe it’s the owner? He might want to warn me about the storm or give me extra supplies.
When I booked the cabin, I received an email from a guy called Weston who gave me all the details, including the code to the key lockbox outside. It must be him inside the cabin. Maybe he greets all his guests this way.
Feeling reassured, I get out of my car and flinch as the freezing January wind bites at my skin. Grabbing my luggage from the trunk, I hurry to the front door and knock hard, fighting to be heard over the storm. A few moments later, it opens a crack. I can’t make out the person’s features in the gloom, but I hear a deep masculine voice ask, “Who’s there?”
“I’m Lila,” I shout, my voice carried away by the wind. “Lila Martin. I’m the one who booked the cabin. Are you Weston?”
There’s silence for a moment. Then the door opens wider and light spills out to reveal a giant. He fills the doorway, towering over me like a mountain, his broad shoulders straining against a red flannel shirt. His thick brows furrow as he looks at me.
“You booked this place?”
“Uh…yes.” I get out my phone and show him the email, worry gnawing at my gut. “You sent me all the details yesterday, remember?”
The man runs a hand over his bushy beard, looking agitated. “I didn’t send you anything. I’m not Weston.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his own phone, showing me an identical email. “I booked this place for two nights.”
“But…so did I.” My eyes burn in the cold as I read and reread the email on the stranger’s phone. The dates are the same as mine. As I read through it one last time, hoping for some kind of explanation, a violent gust of wind almost knocks me off my feet, and I stagger against the cabin wall.
“You better come inside,” the stranger says reluctantly.
He steps back and lets me in. I hurry into the warmth, taking in the tiny living room with its roaring fireplace and rustic furniture. But it’s hard to feel at home when there’s a hulking mountain man staring at me, his tree-trunk-sized arms crossed over his chest. I chance a glance at him, my heart spasming when I meet his gaze.
Wow.
I can see him more clearly in this light—his deep blue eyes, his firm jaw, the streaks of gray in his beard. He must be in his forties at least, and in this small log cabin, he looks ridiculously huge. Six and a half feet of thick, solid muscle. I have to force myself not to stare.
“So…I guess there’s been some kind of mix-up,” I say, the awkwardness of the situation settling on me.
“Guess so.”
“What do you think we should do?”
The stranger doesn’t answer. He sure as heck isn’t making this easy, and his body language is screaming that he doesn’t want me here. But there’s no way I’m going to traipse around in the storm looking for somewhere else to stay. I booked this place fair and square, just like he did.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
“Ridge,” he says. Then he lets out a sigh, looking resigned. “I’ll find somewhere else?—”
“You don’t need to do that.” I wrap my arms around myself, looking anywhere but at him. “We both booked this place. It’s not fair for me to kick you out.”
Ridge seems torn. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world right now, and it’s hard not to take it personally.
“You should stay for tonight at least,” I say, meeting his gaze defiantly. “It’s dark, the weather’s awful, and…well, I’m not the worst person to share a cabin with.”
“It’s not?—”
“I’m not an axe murderer. Or a cannibal.”
“Good to know.”
“And if you leave,” I continue, “and wrap your truck around a tree in this weather, then it will be all my fault.”
Ridge frowns at me. Grumpy seems to be his default expression, and I’m starting to realize his scowl is a permanent fixture. He looks pretty intimidating, but I can’t kick him out. It wouldn’t be fair. Staying with him isn’t exactly the secluded getaway I planned for myself, but I can handle it for one night.
“Okay,” he says eventually. “I’ll stay. We can figure this out tomorrow.”
I nod, and a heavy silence descends between us. I don’t know what to say. There’s no guidebook on how to talk to hot mountain man strangers who end up double-booked in the same vacation cabin as you. It sounds crazy, like the plot of one of the romance novels in my suitcase. But then I’m saved by a gentle meowing as a sleek black cat slips into the room, cocking its head at me curiously.
“Oh!” I say, bending down and reaching out a hand. “You brought your cat?”
“Yeah. Her name’s Middy.”
“Middy?”
He nods. “Short for Midnight.”
I smile as Middy approaches, my heart melting as she nuzzles against me, purring loudly. “She’s so sweet! I love cats. I always wanted one growing up, but my mom’s allergic.”
As I fuss over Middy, stroking her soft fur, I can feel Ridge’s eyes on me. It’s like two holes are being burned into the side of my head, but when I finally look up at him, he’s already turning away, facing the fire instead.
“I don’t know if anybody’s ever told you this,” I whisper, turning back to Middy, “but your dad’s kind of grumpy.”
She purrs louder than ever.