4. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Cassidy
The rest of dinner is quiet, and I retreat back to my cabin as soon as it’s done. Noah is charming, but there’s also something… intense in the way he says things. He seemed disappointed that I wanted to go on a group tour, but I also have this… feeling that I should stick to group activities for now.
After all, I’m supposed to be relaxing, not developing a crush on my hiking guide.
I fell asleep on the couch after a cup of chamomile and only wake when the birds start chirping. Rubbing my eyes, I stood, stretching my body.
My bones hurt less being up here. Maybe it’s the lack of stress. Or the fresh air.
Heading to the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot, I stop dead in my tracks.
A rose, bright red and beautiful, lay on the table. A prickle runs down my spine.
Someone is watching me.
And I think I know who.
Logically, I should run screaming for the hills. He was inside my cabin, probably watching me sleep. It’s a gross breach of privacy. Not to mention fucking creepy as hell.
But part of me is flattered. That’s the part that concerns me. That I like the attention.
God, what is wrong with me? This is fucked! He could be a serial killer!
And yet, I can’t help imagining those dark brown eyes on me, seeing every single part I try to hide away.
The rose sits there, taunting. Too elegant for the rustic table. A message he knows I’ll understand.
I pick it up and toss it in the trash before grabbing my phone and calling Monique. I pour a cup of coffee and start sipping while I wait.
She answers on the first ring. “Cass! Finally! I’ve been worried sick! You didn’t return any of my calls last night. AND you’ve been ignoring my texts.”
I wince at the concern in her voice. “Sorry. It was late and then I fell asleep. Besides, you told me to come here and relax. Can’t do that if I’m on my phone 24/7.”
“Well, don’t do that again. I just want to know you’re alive, you know? There’s bears out there,” she snaps, her tone softening with a sigh. “How’s the wilderness experience treating you?”
My eyes drift back to the trash can where the rose sits and down the rest of my coffee in a couple gulps. “It’s... intense.”
“Intense? What happened?”
“Nothing,” I lie too quickly, pouring myself another cup. “I just forgot how quiet it can be without the city noise.”
She laughs, a sound like wind chimes over static. “Sounds like you're finally unwinding.”
“Yeah.” My voice doesn’t even convince me.
“Have you met any mountain men yet? Sweaty lumberjacks with rippling muscles?”
The image of Noah flashes through my mind, uninvited and all too vivid. “There might be one or two.”
She squeals like we’re back in college, sharing secrets over cheap wine and microwave popcorn.
“Well, enjoy it while you can. You need a rebound, girl,” she teases.
My laugh is weak, “Yeah. I guess.”
“Speaking of rebounding. Stuart is already flaunting that gaudy blonde he cheated on you with around the office. Don’t worry, I put ex-lax in her coffee for you.”
I gasp. “You did not! Moni, that’s a crime!”
“I don’t give a fuck. They both deserve to have the shits after what they did to you.”
“God, I love you. But be careful, alright? They’ll find a way to blame it on me.” I say, letting out a long breath.
“Don’t worry about it. How’s tomorrow for a call?”
“Promise you’ll answer this time?” She teases.
“Cross my heart.”
We hang up and my cabin feels too quiet, even with the river rushing somewhere in the distance. I look at the trash can again and wrestle with the urge to rescue the rose. Before I can think too much, I lace up my boots and head out towards the lodge. I don’t know what time the group hike is, or if there’s a sign up, but either way, coffee is calling my name. One pot just isn’t enough.
My mind drifts back to the rose, how I’d been sleeping on the couch and didn’t even hear him come in. A flashback hits me of when I was back home, searching for my favorite black lace underwear and it was no where to be found. I’d opened my drawer, dumping all my under garments on the floor and a red rose had fallen out. At the time, I had brushed it off as Stuart. He was a little fucking weird like that, but now…
No. There’s no way Noah has actually been stalking me. That’s ridiculous.
But then there were also my diaries. Pages torn out, smudged ink. A flower petal jammed in between the pages.
Nope. It was Stuart. Fucking weirdo.
The trails are still damp from last night’s mist, and I breathe in deep as I jog up to the lodge. The air is cold enough to bite, waking me and chilling me to the bones. But I sort of like it. I never do this back home. Go for morning walks, I mean. It’s invigorating. Stifling a groan, I burst out in giggles.
Maybe I should start. Then I can turn into one of those social media influencer freaks who take selfies all the time and post about waterfalls and mountain climbs.
I walk inside, and heads turn as I sign up for Noah’s tour.
“Morning,” he says, appearing out of nowhere like he has some kind of sixth sense for me.
“Hi.” My voice is breathless from more than jogging.
“Glad you made it.”
“I said maybe,” I tease, “but here I am anyway.”
His eyes flash with something that looks an awful lot like triumph. “Just us today,” he says. “Guess no one else wanted an early start.”
The way he says it sounds a little too convenient. Maybe he scared them off or cancelled everyone else just to get me alone. That should terrify me—but it doesn’t. Not in the way it should, anyway.
“Is that okay?” he asks, watching every reaction cross my face.
I stutter because words are hard when he looks at me like that—like nothing else exists but us. “Yeah, I just… we could always postpone it until later? See if more people sign up? I need coffee anyway.”
“No worries, let’s grab some coffee and something to eat and then we can head out.” He completely ignores my suggestion, taking me by the arm and leading me inside.
His touch is firm and sends a jolt up my arm. I don’t even think to pull away until we’re already at the coffee station. He pours two steaming cups, one for him and one for me, adding just the right amount of cream without even asking.
“Sit,” he says, gesturing to a table by the window where we can see the mist burning off the mountains.
I sit, because—let’s be honest—I’m curious. About him, about this place, about why I can’t get him out of my head since the moment I got here.
He leans back in his chair, completely casual, though there’s nothing casual about the way he watches me. “You sleep okay?”
I nod, taking a cautious sip. “Like a rock.”
“Good.” His lips twitch.
“So, what's the plan for today? Are you going to work me to death on these trails?”
His laugh is low and does funny things to my insides. “Only if that’s what you want.”
I pretend to think about it, though my mind is already racing with all kinds of scenarios—some innocent, some less so. “How about you go easy on me at first?”
He considers this like it’s an actual negotiation and not just me trying to sound in control. “Alright,” he agrees, “but no promises.”
There’s something deliciously reckless in his voice and for a second, I forget why I’m supposed to be careful. I’m supposed to ‘heal’ from Stuart. Not jump pussy first onto another cock.
I glance around the empty lodge. “Where’s everyone else?”
He shrugs, taking a long drink. “Most guests sleep in, have lazy mornings and then do the easier trails in the afternoon. Guess I’m not much of a draw.”
Liar.
He’s the kind of man people flock to. They can’t help it. I can’t help it.
“Lucky me, then,” I say before I can stop myself.
His eyes find mine, and he sets his cup down slowly, deliberately. “I’d say.”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I look away, trying to find something else to focus on. Anything but him and that look. The view outside catches me off guard. Mist curling away from the peaks, leaving them stark against a brightening sky.
“Ready?” His voice breaks through my thoughts, startling me with its closeness.
“Sure.” The word is breathy and ridiculous.
He grabs a couple of bagels on the way out, wrapping them carefully and putting them in his pack before heading out. I follow him outside where the air is sharp and invigorating. He sets a brisk pace up one of the narrower trails called ‘Blue Moon Ridge’. It leads away from the lodge, and I suddenly regret not going to the gym. My legs are burning already. He glances back to check on me every so often, an amused smile playing at his lips when he sees I’m keeping up better than he expected.
We don’t talk much at first; a few comments about the trail conditions, some pointed observations about my stamina that make me push harder just to prove him wrong, but mostly it’s a steady rhythm of footsteps and breathing. The silence should be awkward but instead it feels like a dare.
Eventually he slows enough to walk beside me, close enough that our arms brush occasionally.
“So, city girl knows how to handle herself out here after all,” he says, half teasing, half serious.
“I surprise myself sometimes,” I say, trying to ignore how every little touch sends a jolt through me.
“As you should.” He stops abruptly, and I almost run into him.
We’re in a small clearing, the trees forming a natural circle that feels strangely intimate. There’s a boulder off to one side, and he gestures for me to sit as he pulls the bagels from his pack. I can tell why this place is the Blue Moon trail. If I come out here at night, I’d have the perfect line of sight straight up into the sky.
“Breakfast?” he offers, sitting so close our knees touch.
I take the bagel, watching him as I chew. “So, what’s your story?” I finally ask. “The mysterious guide who cancels tours just to get me alone.”
He smiles like I’ve given him a compliment, but he doesn’t deny my thinly veiled accusation. “Not much of a story. Just prefer to keep things simple.”
“And simple means…?”
“Being out here. Away from everything else.”
There’s something unspoken in his words. There’s something he doesn’t want me to know, but I don’t press.
“You said you came to relax” he says after a moment. “To get away and unwind?”
“Something like that,” I admit.
“Bad breakup? Let me guess, he cheated on you.” He’s fishing now; I can tell he already knows.
“Wow. You’re even more perceptive than I thought.”
“I notice things.” His voice is even, but his eyes are intense.
I swallow hard, the bagel forgotten in my hand. “Yeah, well… I didn’t think he’d move on so damn fast.”
“It doesn’t take long for some people.” There’s an edge to his words that wasn’t there before.
“No,” I agree. “It doesn’t.”
He looks at me like he understands more than I’m saying. It makes me feel seen and heard, but an undercurrent runs through me.
This feels so intimate. Too intimate.
He leans forward, capturing my chin in his hand, rubbing his thumb over my lips. “Stuart was an idiot, Cass. You are beauty personified. I would never do you dirty like that.”
How did he…
And then his lips were on mine.
I should pull away, shove him off, demand answers—because how the hell does he know Stuart’s name? But I don’t do any of that. Instead, I kiss him back like this is the most natural thing in the world.
This… this… stranger.
He pulls me closer, his grip tightening. It’s possessive and wild and everything I didn’t know I needed. My head spins, and the only thing keeping me stable is him—his hands, his mouth, the way he kisses me like he’s claiming me.
When he finally releases me, I’m breathless and shaken in ways I can’t explain. He looks at me with a certainty that makes my denial crumble. How long has he been watching me? Knowing me?
“Cassidy,” he says, my name rolls off his tongue with a rasp.
I stand abruptly, needing distance from whatever just happened. “I should—”
He catches my wrist before I can move away. “Stay.” It’s not a question.
“I need some air.”
“We’re in the middle of the forest.”
“Alone,” I clarify, but it sounds weak even to my ears.
He doesn’t let go. Instead, he pulls me back down beside him with a force that should terrify me but doesn’t. “You didn’t come here to be alone,” he says, his voice steady and sure.
“How do you know?”
His smile is maddeningly confident. “Like you said—I’m perceptive.”
Did I say that? I want to argue, tell him he doesn’t know a damn thing about why I’m here or what I need—but the words won’t come.
Why did I come here? The question rolls around, and I can’t find an answer I’m happy with.
I’m confused. My head is spinning, and I don’t know which way is up and which way is down.
“I… I think I need to head back to my cabin. I’m suddenly feeling very tired.” I say. My alarm bells are going off, loudly. There’s something about this that’s just… wrong.
And yet, he feels so damn right .
He stands, pulling me with him. “I’ll walk you back.”
“That’s not necessary.” My voice is a shell of my usual confidence.
“Humor me.” It’s a command disguised as concern.
We head down the trail, and this time the silence is awkward. He keeps pace beside me, an inescapable presence despite my attempts at distance. I wonder if I should be afraid. If I should pack my bags and leave while I still can.
But there’s a pull, stronger than logic or fear, that keeps my feet moving alongside his.
The lodge comes into view, and I let out a breath. He stops at the edge of the clearing, giving me space to walk ahead, but there’s no mistaking that he’ll follow wherever I go.
“I’ll see you around,” he says, and it sounds like a promise and a threat all wrapped into one.
I don’t respond as I make a beeline for my cabin. It feels like he’s still watching me, even after I shut the door behind me and lean against it for support. The quiet inside is deafening. Too much space for my thoughts to run wild.
Trying to piece it all together, I start thinking. What do I really know about Noah? A hiking guide who knows my name—and Stuart's—before being introduced. An outdoorsman who cancels tours just to be near me.
The rose.
Obsessive? Possibly. Terrifying? Maybe.
Intoxicating? Definitely.
I sink onto the couch, my mind racing through flashes of his eyes on mine. His lips were so soft… his pace… demanding. He’s everything Stuart was not and I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.
The dizzying uncertainty pierces through me, unsettling and electrifying all at once. My phone buzzes, and it just grates on my nerves. I press end, forcing the call to voicemail. Once it’s done and the little icon shows up, I listen to the message.
“Cassidy?” Even through voicemail, Stuart’s voice drips with that insincere earnestness I know too well. “I know you said not to call, but we need to talk. It’s important.”
I delete the message without a second thought, but his intrusion leaves me feeling exposed. Like he’s breached my sanctuary from miles away. If he can just fuck off and stop being in my space constantly… sighing, I shake my head. He’s a partner at the firm. There is no escaping him. I walk to the window, peering out into the forest. It’s still. Too still.
In a moment of impulsive defiance, I grab a jacket and head back outside. The cold air is a slap across my face as I make my way to the lodge. I need a damn drink . Maybe Stuart’s right—maybe I do need to talk—but not with him.
Probably with a therapist, if I’m being honest.
The lodge is quiet. Only a few guests are milling about, coffee cups in hand as they excitedly chatter about river rafting later in the afternoon. I make coffee in the communal kitchen and wait for it to percolate. A splash of cream later and I’m heading back to the dining area.
I take my mug to the wide windows overlooking the valley. My reflection in the glass looks like a stranger: tense shoulders and worried eyes. Someone I hardly recognize.
Lost in thought, I don’t hear him until he’s behind me.
“So much for alone time,” Noah says, his voice low and amused.
I spin around too quickly, and it makes me dizzy, “Oh lord. Noah. You’ve got to stop creeping up on me.” My heart is racing and for a second, I think he can hear it.
“It’s hard to miss the most beautiful woman in this place.”
I fight the blush creeping over my cheeks. “It’s only been a day, Noah. This is… it’s a bit much.”
There. I said it.
“Is it? I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.”
His words hit me hard. I want to scoff, roll my eyes, tell him to back the hell off—but I can't. I believe him. Part of me is caught in his web. Helpless. Hopeful. Scared.
“That’s not possible, Noah. You can’t possibly feel that way about me yet,” I finally say, but it sounds uncertain. Weak.
“And yet you’re here and you don’t know why.” He leans against the window frame, casual but impossibly present.
I take a sip of coffee, letting the bitter heat center me. “You know what? I think you’re used to getting exactly what you want.”
He grins, and it’s feral. “Only when I want it this badly.”
There’s a magnetism in his gaze that should repel me but doesn’t. Instead, it lures me closer, even as every rational part of my brain screams to walk away before I’m in too deep.
“You still haven’t told me how you know so much about me,” I challenge, setting my mug down. My fingers twitch with the need to touch him again.
He steps forward, closing the space between us like he owns it. Owns me. “What if I told you there’s nothing I don’t know?”
It’s an admission and a claim. My heart skips despite the warning bells clanging in my head.
“Then I’d say you’re either crazy or...” The word stalker hangs heavy between us.
“Or?” His voice is soft but insistent, urging me to finish the thought.
I look away, because I can’t do this. Not here, not with him staring at me like he can see straight through to everything I’m not ready to face.
“I… I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I don’t want this kind of attention, okay? Just… let me have the next 5 days of my retreat and then we can part ways and never see each other again.”
His eyes go cold as he stares at me. “Is that what you really want, Cassidy?”
I gulp. “Yes.”
He nods and turns, walking away.
Okay… that was weird, but… he’s going to leave me alone now… right?