5. Celeste
5
CELESTE
I follow Dane into his cabin, my pulse fluttering at the memory of what I saw the last time I was here. It makes me shudder a little, and I wonder if Dane is thinking about it too as he pulls out a chair for me at his giant oak dining table. His cabin is roomier than my brother’s, more lived-in, with cozy décor and the same style of rustic furniture. Sunlight spills through the windows, casting a golden glow over the open-plan living area, and I take it all in as Dane busies himself with slicing up the cherry pie.
I didn’t notice much the last time I was here—I was too busy staring at Dane—but now, something catches my eye. A floor-to-ceiling bookcase spans the wall to my left, stuffed full of leather-bound books. It sends a skitter of excitement through me.
“You like to read?” I ask, beaming at Dane.
“You bet.” He slides a plate of cherry pie in front of me. “Books have gotten me through some pretty rough times.”
“Me too.” I look toward the bookcase again, unable to help myself. “Can I take a look?”
“Of course.”
I make my way over, eagerly eyeing the titles. There’s a solid mix—classics, thrillers, a few adventure stories, and I hear Dane get up from the table and join me. I can see him watching me in my peripheral vision, the weight of his gaze making my pulse jump.
“What kind of books do you like?” he asks.
“All of them. I’ll read just about anything. Romance, sci-fi, mystery, non-fiction…” My eyes land on The Adventures of Tom Sawyer , and I smile, pointing at it. “I always meant to read that book. I never got around to it when I was a kid.”
“Want to borrow it?” Dane asks, pulling it free from the shelf and holding it out to me. “It was my favorite book growing up. Lost count of how many times I read it.”
It looks just like a book should—well-thumbed, dog-eared, and cracked down the spine.
“Thank you.” I smile up at him warmly. “I can’t wait to read it.”
Once I’ve finished perusing Dane’s books, we sit back at the table and tuck into our cherry pie. It’s deliciously sweet and buttery, the tang of cherries bursting on my tongue, and I hum with appreciation.
“Good, right?” Dane says. “Cherry Hollow is kind of famous for its pies.”
“I can see why. This is amazing.”
I take another bite, almost choking when Dane’s long leg accidentally brushes mine beneath the table. The contact makes me shiver, and I keep my eyes down on my plate, hoping he can’t see the effect he’s having on me.
“So, what do you do back in Denver?” he asks, his deep voice rumbling through me. “Still in college?”
I shake my head. “I graduated a couple of years ago with an English degree. Now I work downtown for a paper supply company. Kind of like The Office, but without the laughs.”
I’m half joking, but Dane frowns. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s okay.” I shrug. “Pretty boring, but it pays the bills. What about you?”
“I have a few rental cabins out here. Sell firewood, too. And my woodwork, sometimes.”
I lean toward him, intrigued. “Woodwork?”
“Yeah. It’s more of a hobby than anything. I whittle small things, little figurines, stuff like that. Doesn’t earn much, but I like it.”
I nod, hanging onto every word he says. Dane fascinates me. His life is so different from mine, slow and solitary compared to the chaos of the city. It reminds me of my childhood—the good parts—when it was just me and Brody roaming the woods, escaping the world.
“Can I ask you something?” I say tentatively.
“Sure.”
I run the words over in my mind before I ask, “Does it ever get lonely? You know, living out here by yourself in such an isolated place?”
Dane is quiet for a moment, like he’s thinking it over. “Not really. I prefer to avoid people…with some exceptions.” He looks at me and clears his throat before continuing, “But most of the time, I keep to myself. All people see is…” He gestures to his scars with a shrug. “You get sick of being looked at after a while.”
He sounds resigned, and my heart squeezes. Something tells me Dane isn’t the kind of man who wants pity, but I can’t help sympathizing with the crap he must have to endure because of his appearance. It was obviously a terrible injury if he ended up with such prominent scars, and I can’t help the burning curiosity I feel as I look at his ruggedly handsome face.
What happened to him?
I don’t dare to ask, but he seems to read my mind.
“It’s alright,” he says. “You’re allowed to ask.” He leans back in his chair, running a hand instinctively over his scarred cheek. “It happened in Afghanistan, back when I was in the Army. I got caught up in an explosion and the shrapnel shredded my cheek. These scars were actually the best-case scenario.”
I suck in a breath. I was expecting him to say it was from a car wreck, or maybe a wood-chopping accident. But knowing he was in the Army fills me with even more respect for him, and I flinch when I think about how painful his injuries must have been.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him, instinctively reaching across the table to grab his hand. “Does it…does it still hurt?”
“It aches in cold weather. But most of the time, it’s just numb. Nerve damage. Kind of fucked up my smile, too. Luckily, I’ve never been the smiliest of guys.”
I can’t help chuckling at the way he says it, and his lips twitch into a crooked smile, one side raising higher than the other. The effect is pretty darn sexy.
“Seriously, though, you must have been so brave to go through that,” I tell him, squeezing his calloused palm. “I can’t even imagine.”
“Just doing my duty.” He shrugs. “It was a long time ago now. I got off pretty lightly, all things considered.”
I’m not surprised by Dane’s humility. He seems to want praise even less than he wants pity, and I feel a rush of admiration for him. In the back of my head, I remember that Brody is waiting for me, and that I was only meant to stay a couple of minutes. But I can’t bring myself to go. My hand is still wrapped around Dane’s, our eyes locked, and the whole cabin seems to buzz with electricity. As we’ve been talking, we’ve leaned closer across the table, slowly bridging the gap between us without even realizing it. Our faces are just a few inches apart, and I can see flecks of dark green in Dane’s amber eyes, his silver-laced beard, the contours of his rough scars. He has no idea how handsome he is, and when his gaze strays to my lips, I feel a bolt of anticipation rush through me.
Am I going crazy…or is this gorgeous mountain man about to kiss me?
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
The sound of a fist hammering on the front door brings me crashing back to reality, and I draw back from Dane, breathing hard. I look down at my lap, avoiding his eyes as he gets up from his chair with a grunt of annoyance and opens the door. I’m not surprised when I hear my brother’s voice.
“Is Celeste here?” he asks curtly.
“Yes,” I call, so Dane doesn’t have to respond. “I’m here, Brody. I was just leaving.”
With a bitter sigh, I get up from the table and head for the door where my brother is waiting for me, arms crossed. “You said twenty minutes.”
I have a sudden urge to scream at him, but I hold my tongue, turning back to Dane. “Thanks again,” I tell him, struggling to know what to say with my brother watching. “Enjoy the pie.”
“Thanks. I will.”
There’s an awkward pause before I reluctantly follow Brody away from the cabin and into the woods. As soon as Dane’s door closes behind us, I feel my irritation boil over.
“You didn’t have to come and get me,” I say. “I’m not a child.”
“You said you’d be twenty minutes, Cee. When you didn’t come back, I thought you might be lost in the woods again.”
I stop in my tracks, rounding on my brother. “That’s not what this is about, and you know it. You came to get me because you don’t want me spending any more time with Dane.”
Brody’s expression darkens. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.” I scowl at him. “What is your problem with him? If it’s because of his scars, then you should know that he’s a veteran. He got those scars in combat. You shouldn’t judge?—”
“It’s nothing to do with his damn scars.” My brother cuts me off, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I just don’t like him, okay? He reminds me of Dad.” He flinches at his own words, like he already regrets saying them, but it doesn’t stop the anger roiling inside me.
“He’s nothing like Dad.” I clench my jaw tight. “How can you say that when you don’t even know him?”
“You don’t know him either,” Brody points out, frowning. “Look, there’s just something about him…I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it.”
Before I can say something I regret, I stalk away from Brody, keeping well ahead of him as I walk back to his cabin. My brother’s protectiveness doesn’t usually bother me this much, but I can’t stand the way he’s attacking Dane, seeing parallels with our father that simply don’t exist. The only thing they have in common is their military background—nothing else.
When my brother arrives back at the cabin a couple of minutes after me, he shoots me a guilty look.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Cee. I’m trying to protect you.”
“Brody, I’m a grown woman. You don’t need to protect me anymore.”
He shakes his head. “Danger doesn’t disappear just because you’re a grownup.”
I guess I can’t argue with that. But Dane isn’t dangerous, and Brody has no reason to think he is. When I tell him this, he just sighs.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, throwing my hands up in defeat. “There’s nothing between me and Dane, and I’m leaving in a few days anyway, so you can dislike him all you want.”
The words sit bitterly on my tongue, but they’re true. I’ll be heading back to Denver soon, so my brother’s opinion of Dane is irrelevant. Nothing can happen between us.
I retreat into a chair in the corner and grab a book from my suitcase, looking for a distraction from the misery churning in my gut. A shadow falls over the pages, and I look up to see Brody watching me.
“I’m sorry, Cee. I know I’m a pain in the ass. It’s just hard sometimes…”
He doesn’t need to say anything else; we have a shared understanding that runs deeper than words, a past that hangs like a ghost in the air between us. I set my book down and hug my brother tight. It’s impossible to be mad at Brody for long. I owe him so much.
“Friends?” he says, reaching out his pinkie like he used to do when I was a kid.
I smile at him, and we link our pinkies in a promise. “Friends.”
But as Brody disappears into the kitchen to grab us some drinks, my mind slides instantly back to Dane. I can’t seem to go thirty seconds without thinking about him, and a hollow ache gnaws inside me when I realize I probably won’t see him again before I leave.
It’s for the best.
There’s no point getting even more attached than I already am. That would be dumb. Irrational. But heck, there’s nothing rational about any of this. I’m obsessing over a guy I just met, and my heart won’t listen to reason. I know nothing can happen between me and Dane, yet here I am, walking straight toward heartbreak with my eyes wide open.