3. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Noah
She’s perfect.
The way her ass fills her pants as she walks down the mountain. My eyes are glued to her.
Awkward and unsure, not yet used to the terrain. But she doesn’t give up, even when she stumbles. Her hair spills in wild, brown waves, and she probably thinks it’s a mess. I think it’s beautiful. Up close, her green eyes have flecks of gold in them with a yellow ring around her iris. She’s got a dusting of freckles over her nose, ones she tries to hide with makeup. She almost slips but I grab her arm to steady her, a grateful smile crossing her face.
Cassidy Warren.
I’ve been waiting for this moment for an entire year. Her name alone hooked me when I saw her on the docket during a major case against my father, so naturally, I started digging. I wanted to be prepared. Wanted to know everything so I could help my father win his case.
But something changed the minute I saw her. She had been fixing her hair in a make-up mirror and the way she smacked her lips together did it. My searches on her proved that Cassidy was phenomenal. Corporate lawyer. City slicker. Recently dumped—I may or may not have had something to do with that. Cheated on her with some fake bitch. Cassidy is a woman who needs a change of scenery, a fresh start—though I doubt she really knows what that means yet. It took a bit of searching to piece her life together, but I didn’t mind the work. Not when it comes to someone like Cassidy.
She’s even better in person than she was on paper. After my father’s case (spoiler, Cassidy won), I started following her. Finding out her favorite spots, the type of coffee she drinks, the size clothing she wears.
Eventually that wasn’t enough, so I cut myself a key to her apartment and let myself in whenever she was at the office, and a few times late at night while she slept. My underwear collection has grown exponentially. I’ve never been one to enjoy collecting underwear, but with her, I wanted her scent near me.
I was ready to make my move long ago, but then my father died and everything exploded. His businesses were being sued left, right and center, and I had to find a way to stop the bleeding. I did, and the estate passed over to me, but not without a long and arduous legal battle. There’s still a few loose ends, a company I wasn’t aware of, but I’ll gain control of it, like I have the others.
“So, tell me about you.” I say, wanting to hear her voice as much as I can before we hit the end of our trail. It has this lilt that drives me wild. She’s cynical, jaded, but that will change when she see’s what I have in store for her.
She talks about the city like it’s some kind of cage she’s escaped from, but she doesn’t see how much it’s still wrapped around her. Then in the same breath she says how much she loves it there. The busy life, the non-stop race to the top. Her socials are filled with her view from her place, but there’s a sadness in her eyes. She doesn’t love her life. Not like I love mine.
I can pinpoint the exact moment in time when the light left her eyes. It’s as if one day, she was all sunshine and roses, and the next the joy inside her had dimmed. And theoretically, it was my fault. I put Stuart on the path to finding the woman he’d destroy her with, but I don’t regret it.
Because here, she will find that love for life again. That spark will return, and she will burst open with the light I know is inside of her. I will fix her.
I’ve just been waiting for the perfect woman to share all this with. To give the world to. And she’s the one. She just doesn’t know it yet.
She will, though. She’ll see everything by the time I’m done.
We reach the lodge, and I keep my hand on her elbow to steady her on the last stretch. The dining area is already filling up with other guests. They’re all so boring, compared to her. She’s got more grit than most of them put together.
“I need to grab something from my cabin,” she says, pausing at the door. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
“I thought we were having a date.” I say, trying not to show my irritation.
“Yeah… uh…” she twirls her hair around her fingers before biting her lip. I stuff down the urge to pull it out before she hurts herself.
“Yes?”
“I… need to get my phone. Stuart has probably emailed me a hundred times. It’s… things are busy with work, and I need to be present.”
Irritation flares. Stuart. It makes me angry that she’s even thinking about him when she’s here with me. He’s a nobody. A nothing. “No. You need to eat. You also need to hydrate. Food and water first, then you can answer your phone. Though, you won’t get the full benefits of the retreat if you stay glued to that thing.”
She sucks in a breath, her eyes narrowing. “My job is important you know.”
“Not more important than your health.”
She hesitates, and I watch her weigh the truth of it. She’s smart enough to know I’m right. She doesn’t push it, not entirely.
“Lunch and water then,” she says with a quiet sigh.
I follow her inside, claiming a table by the window so we can see the mountains. My mountains. This place is my kingdom, and she’s my queen, whether she knows it or not. She will rule this place beside me.
Soon.
Cassidy sits across from me, looking around at the other guests like she’s trying to memorize their faces. Her lawyer brain working overtime. “Seems like you get all types here.”
“We do.” I let her wonder about them and keep my eyes fixed on her. I don’t give a fuck about anyone else. Not when she’s in front of me.
Our kitchen staff come by, putting our food in front of us. The spaghetti is nothing fancy, but it’s hearty and good. I watch her twirl noodles around her fork, watch her eyes widen as she takes the first bite. The Ridge might be a little rougher than what she’s used to, but we do things right here.
She devours a full plate before she realizes it and looks up sheepishly. “Guess I needed that.”
“I noticed,” I say with a grin.
Her cheeks flush pink again, and I love seeing color in them.
Cassidy drinks her water slowly, like she’s trying to make up for every dehydrated moment of the past year. I refill her glass when it’s empty, and she doesn’t protest. She’s letting me take care of her already.
Such a good girl.
“Okay,” she says, wiping her mouth with a napkin and leaning back in her chair. “I’ll admit it. That hit the spot.”
“I know what you need better than you do,” I say. There’s a joke in my voice, but we both hear the truth under it.
She doesn’t look away this time; she meets my gaze head on. “What makes you so sure?”
“Call it instinct.”
“Instinct?” She taps her fingers on the table, calculating something behind those sharp blue eyes. “Or… are you stalking me or something.” She laughs, joking about my very real addiction to her.
The way she says it, like she’s trying to catch me out sends a thrill through me. She’s trying to figure me out, see my angle. There’s practically smoke billowing out of her as her brain works overtime to understand me. I smile at her again and shrug. Let her wonder about me. Let her try her very best to understand who I am, what my goal is here… with her. It’ll keep her interested.
“No stalking necessary. It’s just intuition. I watch people for a living. You’re not the only observant one,” I say.
Her expression shifts like she’s not sure whether to be impressed or scared.
“Well, Noah.” She draws my name out, tasting it, testing me with it. “Thanks for lunch.”
There’s a finality in her voice that she thinks will end things, but we’re just getting started. She’s curious, wanting to dig into my psyche even as she pushes back her chair and stands.
I stand too, closing the space between us. “You’re welcome,” I say, my voice low enough that only she can hear. “Dinners at seven.”
She catches the meaning in my words and pauses before nodding slowly. She doesn’t commit to more than that, but I’ll take it. For now.
She walks out of the lodge with her shoulders set like she’s braced for something. She is, whether she knows it or not.
I watch until she’s lost to the shadows of the trees, then make my way to the kitchen. Time to head to the back. I slip into the hallway where the staff have their spaces and push open a door marked Employees Only.
My real office is in a cabin half a mile from here, but I’ve found it’s better to have a few ‘crash pads’ for when the muse strikes. Plus, this is a shared space, and the others might start questioning me if I put up photos from my investigation. The setup is simple: a desk, an old laptop, and stacks of notebooks filled with my handwriting. All kept in the locked filing cabinet that only I have the key for. There’s nothing damning in them, but still, keeping the Nosy Nellies away from my extracurricular activities is in the best interests of everyone.
I sit down and pull up the nearest notebook. The page is already marked with her name: Cassidy Warren—Guest Intake. Every note about her is carefully recorded in my writing: Day 1 – Arrived at 9:15 a.m. Settled in, hiked. Had spaghetti and hydrated. It’s not entirely necessary for me to be making these notes, but having a document filled with my observations about her will make a beautiful gift to her one day.
I even have photos of her that I can give her. One’s that my cameras caught of her at just the right times. Like when she looked out her bedroom window at something outside and smiled. A big, beautiful, genuine smile. It is one of my favorite photos. With a sigh, I wonder what she’s doing right now. Grabbing my laptop, I open it with a click.
The screen lights up with feeds from several trail cameras I’ve set around the property. Most show nothing interesting—the usual parade of deer and bored couples—but I toggle through them till I find her.
She’s moving quickly through the trees toward her cabin, her hair wild around her shoulders where she let it fall free again. There’s a tension in her steps like she’s trying to outrun something, trying to escape what’s closing in on her.
But as long as she stays here, she won’t outrun me.
I switch off the feeds, fighting the urge to check the ones inside her cabin and close the laptop. There’s a reason she was put in cabin eleven. I had Creed set up a top-of-the-line security system inside that one. Mini cameras, high tech night vision. There’s not an inch of space in those walls where she can hide from me. She’ll need time to process today, time to come to terms with perfect I am for her. It’s only day one, and fighting the need to claim her is proving more difficult than I thought it would. I want to see her, watch her, have her around me.
Only, it’s too soon to push for much more right now. She’s a fragile, wounded bird, trying to find her path in life. Once she understands that the city isn’t her calling, it will be easy to patch her up and build her for a life with me here.
At Pine Ridge.
A knock interrupts me, and Dana peeks her head inside. “Noah? We’ve got a group wanting to see the peek, do you have time now?”
I nod, packing away my personal stuff and locking the filing cabinet before following Dana out. I want to tell her to fuck off, to leave me with my thoughts, but duty calls.
The afternoon is bright, and the group of hikers is waiting by the trailhead. A mixture of families and couples—all of them city-dwellers looking for an adventure to brag about around their office coffee pots. They chatter loudly, and it grates against my nerves.
The wilds are for quiet.
Dana flashes me a knowing smile as I join the group, and she starts introducing me to the group. I nod and smile, playing the perfectly good host. Going over the safety rules, everyone is eager and antsy, so we head out.
“I’m going to come with on this one, if that’s okay, Noah.” She looks at me, a blush creeping up her cheek.
“Yeah, for sure.” I say before taking point despite the fact that I don’t want her to come. I know what she wants. We’ve fucked a few times, but that’s in the past now. She was never meant to fill the shoes of the one. A bed warmer. That’s all she ever was, but she clearly hadn’t taken the fucking hint.
The chatter fades as we wind our way up the mountain. By the time we reach the lookout point, everyone’s quiet, panting from exertion and finally noticing just how far from civilization they really are.
“Wow,” one of them gasps. “It’s amazing.”
I give them their moment before launching into my practiced spiel about the peaks and valleys in front of us, sounding exactly like what they want—an experienced guide with deep knowledge.
I’m half disappointed Cassidy wasn’t part of the group, but she was probably exhausted from our hike earlier. I fight back a smile as I think of her. Her voice, challenging me over lunch: Or… are you stalking me or something.
Incredulity mixed with something else. Curiosity maybe. Intrigue.
I wonder which will win out by dinner time.
The group takes their selfies and panoramas, and we make our way back down, Dana bringing up the rear like she’s shepherding a flock of expensive fleece-wearing sheep. By the time we reach the trailhead again, it’s late afternoon and long shadows stretch across the gravel paths. My thoughts have gone back to Cassidy numerous times and I’m itching to get to my cabin and shower before dinner.
“You’re such a pro,” Dana says, flicking her hair as she splits off toward the lodge. “I just loooove when you lead. You’re such a natural.”
I nod absently, already calculating how much time I have before seven o’clock rolls around.
The light is fading as I head back to my own place to clean up before dinner. Cabin 12 is remote enough that I can watch without anyone watching back, but close enough that I can be wherever I need to be on short notice. I also have a direct view into her windows with my binoculars.
Inside, it looks more lived-in than any retreat rental has a right to be: maps, stacks of books about survival skills and pictures of my girl on my bedroom walls. I live here during the season, but it’s temporary. I’m just adding finishes touches to what will become my new home. Owning the place means, I can do whatever the hell I wanted. I just have to lead some spoiled city rats up the mountain whenever asked. Tossing my jacket onto a chair, I check myself in the mirror. Rugged charm goes a long way with women like Cassidy; they think they’ll be able to tame me until they realize it’s taming them instead.
And she will be tamed.
I don’t ever take no for an answer, though she is the only obsession of mine that I plan to keep. The last one failed spectacularly and I don’t intend to have such bad judgement choices again. That’s why watching her and being forced to wait an entire year for this moment wasn’t such a bad thing. It helped me determine the validity of my gut feeling.
I had been right.
There was something… different about her.
Stripping my clothes, I head to my bathroom, starting the shower.
It’s half past six by the time I’m dressed and slipping out into the cooling night. The stream nearby rushes with the rain from last night, and the air has a bite to it that sends most people scrambling for the warmth of the lodge’s fireplaces. Most people, but not her. She marched straight into the cold this morning and it was then that I knew. She’d fit in perfectly here.
I make it to the main lodge in minutes and pull open the heavy oak doors. The dining room is buzzing, filled with guests comparing their day’s adventures and clinking glasses of wine from vineyards they probably can’t pronounce. But it’s just noise to me, background static as my eyes scan the tables.
There she is.
Tucked away at a corner table, her expression pensive as she stares out toward the sky beyond those big windows. It takes all my self-control not to go to her right away, not to claim that empty chair across from her like I rightfully should. I’ve waited most of the day; another few minutes won’t kill me.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
I move toward the bar instead. A few of the other guides are gathered there, laughing too loudly and throwing back beers like they just got off a double shift at a factory instead of leading tourists through paradise.
“Noah!” One of them claps me on the back as I approach. “Heard you got stuck with Dana’s group today.”
“Yeah,” I say, keeping my tone light while my attention drifts back toward Cassidy and I tap the bar to get the bartenders attention.
“She’s been asking about you,” he smirks. “Think she wants you to take her on a private tour.”
I shrug him off and order a scotch, neat. “I’m booked up,” I say, eyes flicking over his shoulder to where Cassidy still sits.
Her gaze catches mine then—a brief flash before she looks away, her cheeks red, obvious even from this distance.
Rio slides my drink to me, and I grab it. The scotch burns smooth and warm down my throat. I cough before ordering two red wines. One for me. One for her.
She shifts in her seat, runs a hand through that hair again until it falls wild around her shoulders like it was meant to be. Like I want it to be when she’s finally underneath me.
I make my way over to her and put the glass in front of her. “Good evening, Cass. I’m glad you decided to show.”
She looks down before raising her eyes to look at me. “Yeah. I had a nap. Did some work things. Ended up being starving so figured why not. Do you know what dinner is tonight?”
“Rainbow trout,” I say, sitting down. “Better than anything you’d get in the city.”
She laughs, a little too brightly. “And here I thought we’d be eating deer or something.”
“Give it time. We’ve got the whole week.” My eyes are on her, watching for any hint of discomfort or interest. Wanting both in equal measure.
She sips the wine, fidgeting with the stem of the glass. She’s nervous, but there’s something else there too—a spark that she can’t quite hide. “You really live out here, don’t you?”
“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.” I lean back, hoping she will see the merits of living out here. “Seems like you’re adjusting pretty fast.”
“Adjusting? No. I’m just here to supposedly relax before I have to start fighting in court again. This is all… not really my thing,” she says, surprising me with her honesty.
Oh, but it will be.
“What is it you’re needing to relax from?” I ask.
“Everything,” she admits, then deflects quickly. “But I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Maybe more than you think.” This time when our eyes meet, there’s no looking away. She holds my gaze for a long moment before a server interrupts with plates of trout and roasted vegetables.
Dinner is delicious. It’s my favorite meal. The chef always prepares it perfectly. She’s about to take another bite when she glances down with a frown, her phone buzzing.
It keeps buzzing and buzzing on the table beside her wine glass, making the most obnoxious sound, and she stares at it like it might explode.
“Avoiding calls?” I ask, pushing a little to see what she’ll give up, both in conversation and character.
She stabs at her food, hesitating before answering. “Yeah,” she says, clipped. “Just... work. Always work.” But there's tension in her voice, the kind that means she's dodging something. Someone.
I wonder who thinks they’re important enough to bother her here.
Better not be Stuart. I may have to take care of that little problem.
“Well, you won’t have much reception out there despite what the website says,” I say with a grin, not thinking about how I can block reception to her phone. “Might as well turn it off.”
She bites her lip, and I imagine doing it for her, the thought sending heat through me. She doesn’t turn it off though. Just watches it until it finally goes silent.
“Sorry,” she says, forcing a smile that looks more real this time. “Not very good company tonight.”
“You’re perfect.” The words slip out too easy, but I don’t care if they scare her off—maybe I want them to.
It would save me a lot of trouble if she did just leave. But then I’d just hunt her down anyway.
She blinks at me, surprised by the bluntness. Her cheeks flush again and I want to reach across the table and feel their warmth under my fingers.
I change the subject before I do something stupid. “Come on one of my tours tomorrow. I’ll show you more of the trails.”
“Will other people be coming?”
I can’t tell if she wants them to, or if she doesn’t.
“They can.” I take another bite, chewing slowly. “If you want them too. It’s a first come, first served. Activities here are choices. If you want to participate you can, but you’re not obligated too.”
She nods. “Maybe I’ll do a group tour then.”
I try hide my disappointment. “Suit yourself.”