Chapter 2
Grace
Hurrying over to the cabin, I find the key under the flowerpot and unlock the door, feeling Dean’s gaze on me the entire time.
Holy crap, I’m so embarrassed.
I couldn’t stop staring at him. All that muscle? That sweat? And he has a beard .
Am I into beards? Wait. No. Yes?
Ugh, it doesn’t matter because he is so off limits. “Get your shit together, girl.” Patting my cheeks, I pace in the open concept cabin and try to make my pulse slow down.
Holy crap, the way his jeans hung on his hips. And the dirt on his boots.
The sweat glistening on his abs.
“Who the fuck am I?” I whisper in terror. Rugged mountain men are not my type. Nope, nope, nope. Not even a little.
Dean walks past the large window with his dog by his side.
Okay, maybe a little.
Maybe a lot, according to my aching pussy, who doesn’t have any sense at all.
I blame the flannel. It’s a nice flannel. And the jeans. They hug his perfect ass… perfectly .
OMG.
“Chill out, Grace. He’s just a guy.”
An irresistible hot guy with tattoos.
Inhale… two, three, four. Exhale… two, three, four. I work on the breathing exercises my yoga instructor taught me and none of it helps. I’m all flustered now.
“You’re not here to get laid. You’re here to find yourself.”
Self-discovery wasn’t going to happen in New York or anywhere else my family has a home, so I decided to hide in the mountains. I could only rent a cabin for two weeks online, but I’m hoping to extend my stay through winter. I’ll find the reservations lodge later and speak to a manager. Hopefully this getaway gives me time to learn who the real Grace Finch is because the woman I’ve been my whole life is who my shitty mother has forged from insults and trust funds and I’m over it.
This drastic move is my last-ditch effort to break out of my toxic life and start a new one, where I’m in charge and only what I want matters. Bear Creek is as good a place as any for that new life to start. Besides, look how pretty the trees are here. It’s like a pumpkin spice postcard and I’m in love already. Whether I find my true self or not, at least I’ll have great posts for social media content.
The cabin is super cute, too. Rustic, comfy, but definitely outdated. The kitchen is tiny, but it’s got the essentials, which are more than I know how to use. That reminds me, I have to go to the grocery store now that I’ve checked in.
Was that even a check in?
I don’t know the rules here. Any hotel or resort I’ve ever stayed at has full amenities and a concierge who will bring me anything I ask for. I didn’t even research what they offer here because I was so enamored by the photos online of the landscape and fell in love with the views.
I don’t need a spa or restaurant. Or room service.
Or heated a pool or saunas.
Right?
Looking around, I should be grateful this cabin at least has indoor plumbing. I really swung in the opposite direction of my lifestyle, picking this place out.
Whatever.
If I’m being honest, I’d live in a cardboard box before I go back to my penthouse in Manhattan and submit to my mother ever again. So yeah, this cabin is perfect because it’s all mine for now and no one can find me.
The bedroom is adorable. Not my style, but it’s clean and cute. Peeking into the bathroom, I’m shocked to find a freestanding soaking tub and mosaic tile floor. Now this is my style. It’s like all the budget went to the bath, leaving pennies for the rest of the place. Maybe renovations are happening in stages? If so, there’s still a lot of work to be done.
Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror startles me. Oh. No. My outfit is completely ruined. Thinking fast, I grab my phone and head out to the wrap-around porch, hoping I can find that dog again. “Oscar!” I call out, my heart skipping beats because I don’t want Dean to know I need his dog back. “Oscar, come here, girl.” I whistle, hoping that will call her to me.
It doesn’t .
Okay, Plan B. I head out back and follow the sign that says, “Fishing Stream Green Trail.” Leaves crunch under my boots as I wind around the path, feeling a little excited about this adventure. My vacations have always been by the ocean, or overseas in a large city with plenty of shopping. I don’t do the woods. Even when my family goes to Aspen for skiing, I stick to the slopes and the cabin. There’s no venturing out in the great unknown because none of my friends like that sort of thing and my mother wouldn’t be caught dead walking in the dirt. The only time I’ve really enjoyed a hike is at the gym with my trainer when they put a wildlife scene on the big screen for me to pretend with.
So boring.
The crisp air bites my lungs in a nice way. The dead leaves smell fantastic.
The sound of rushing water up ahead lures me down a winding forest path that ends on a muddy bank. Climbing down the small trail to the water, I get two steps in when my boot sinks. The other slips out in front of me and I land hard on my ass, sending a jolt of pain rocketing up my back. “Oof!”
Rolling over, I slowly pull myself up and am now completely covered in mud. Even my hands are a gross mess.
Well, go big or go home, right?
I pull out my cell and start snapping pictures of myself covered in mud. The outfit I’m wearing is from a new designer who’s paid big bucks to have me promote their line. I’m sure this isn’t the marketing strategy they were going for, but I can make it work.
With the vibrant, multi-colored trees behind me, I smile and snap a bunch of selfies. Messing with the exposure and filters, it’s not long before I have a series of photos I’m pleased with. Posting the first one, where I’m sitting on a huge rock with the mountains behind me, I add the caption, “Don’t be afraid to let your wild side out to play.” Then I add the link to the clothing brand.
If it flops, I’ll do another photoshoot down the road, free of charge.
It is what it is.
An excited bark gives me a two second warning before Oscar dashes straight to the water and very ungracefully jumps in.
“Oscar!” Dean yells in the distance.
She ignores him completely, which makes me giggle.
When Oscar sees me, she charges over with her tongue flopping out the side of her mouth and I duck before she can shake off all over me a second time. Running circles around me first, she drops down and rolls in the mud, snorting and chuffing with glee. Taking off with another burst of energy, she books it through a patch of bushes and trots back over with a stick in her mouth.
“You want to play fetch, girl?”
She doesn’t let me take the stick from her and I’m too afraid to pull harder than I am.
“Oscar!” Dean yells again. “Damnit girl, get back here!”
The dog wags her tail and sits in front of me, dropping her stick.
“You’re going to get us both in trouble,” I whisper to her.
She wags her tail fiercely as she pushes her head against my thigh. We’re both covered in mud, and I use it to my advantage by taking a few pictures of her with me and then set my phone up on the rock and hit record for a quick video, too.
Chucking the stick into the water, I wait for Oscar to go after it.
She doesn’t.
“Girl, I’m trying to do my job. Can you work with me here and go get that stick?” When Oscar continues to stare at me, I clap and get excited. “Go get it! Get the stick! Go! It’s right there!” The stick floats further downstream and vanishes. “Well there went that.”
Oscar rolls around in the mud again and I roll in it with her.
That’s right.
If this doesn’t prove that I’ve lost my damn mind, nothing will.
The mud is freezing. I’ve officially destroyed this pristine outfit, and I…
Don’t even care.
Oscar bounces around me, so happy and carefree. The mud is cold and smells awful, but I’ve already committed to this and I’m not stopping now. I throw a mud ball over Oscar’s head. She spins around to chase it and can’t figure out where it went.
“Oscar!” Dean’s voice is much closer now. He whistles in short, quick bursts and she abandons me to run to him. “Whoa!” he says, and I imagine she’s running full throttle towards him. “No, no, no, ah !”
There isn’t a doubt in my mind that she just shook off mud all over him.
Dean laughs even as he says, “Damnit, dog! ”
I creep closer to where they are and see him splattered brown while she runs circles around him, happy as can be.
“You’re a menace.” Dean wipes his face with the hem of his shirt, giving me a peek at his abs and my body tenses.
That man has no business looking so good.
Once he walks away, in a different direction, I hit the green trail and get back to my house. Kicking my muddy boots off on the porch, I head inside and start peeling off the layers of expensive threads I’ve destroyed with plans to make a few more videos about the clothing’s durability. I’ll post them once I have it all washed, and I’m sure the stains come out. Not that I have a clue where the laundry room is. Or how to use a washing machine.
A sudden knock on the door startles me.
With my heart thumping, I swing it open, coming face-to-face with Dean. His red and navy-blue flannel shirt paired with the mud caked all over him makes his brown eyes pop with the colors of cognac and amber. Wow, they’re pretty.
“I don’t mean to bug you, but…” His gaze sails down my body and I realize I’m only in a tight tank top and my pants are unbuttoned and folded down to reveal the top of my panties because I was just about to take them off next.
Instead of hiding my indecency, I relish the way he just snuck a peek. I like him looking. And I love that’s he’s trying to force himself to look away as if the door frame between us is the most fascinating thing on the planet.
“But?” I repeat, teasing him a little.
“Huh? ”
“You said you didn’t mean to bug me, but …”
Dean swallows hard and rubs the back of his neck before looking at me again. “Do you mind moving your car? I need to clear that area for a delivery later.” His eyes roam down my body once more and his brow pinches. “What the hell happened to you?”
For a split second, I think he’s asking about the shitshow that is my life, but then I realize he’s likely asking about the fresh mud I’m covered in.
“Mud bath.” There’s no way I’m telling him about what I just did by the stream. It’ll be even more embarrassing if my plan doesn’t work out with the video clips I made for social media. “Let me grab my key and I’ll move my car.”
“I can move it for you, so you don’t have to come back out. It’s… cold.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it myself.” Snagging my key from the coat I left on my floor, I brush past him, getting a whiff of rugged man that has my head spinning with lust and rush to my car.
Barefoot, with no coat.
This is so unlike me. I think this mountain air is making me crazy.
My nipples are harder than rocks. Is it from the chilly temps, or the way Dean just devoured me with his gaze?
I’ll blame the weather.
Getting in my car, I start the engine and a song from my favorite musical blasts through the speakers, startling me. I quickly turn it down because I can’t back up without complete silence, and I drive over to a clearly marked parking pad I hadn’t seen when I drove in. Now I feel like an idiot .
This is why I always use valet.
And since I’m here, I might as well take my stuff out and unpack.
My trunk and backseat are filled with suitcases and bags. I stack them as best I can and start dragging them towards my cabin.
Dean rushes over. “Here, let me help.”
“I’ve got it.” Waving him off, I move faster, but there are so many divots in the dirt drive that my wheels aren’t cooperating. Two bags topple off my heavy suitcase and the biggest one on my shoulders falls to my elbow, making me tip.
“Just because you can do it yourself doesn’t mean you have to.” Dean picks up my fallen bags and brushes them off. Then he lifts the carry-ons, grabs the big bag from my arm, and turns into a pack mule, lugging all my stuff into the cabin.
I carry the lightest thing I own, my purse, and follow behind him. “Thank you for helping me with all this.”
He sets my luggage down just inside the door and laughs. “Staying just the weekend then, huh?”
“Oh no, I…” Wait. That’s a joke. “Yeah.” My smile feels weird on my face. “Just a day or two.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy your time here.” He dips out and just before he closes the door, he pops his head back in and says, “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. My number is on the fridge.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
He shuts the door and there’s a wild part of me that wants to chase after him and beg him for a fuck. Because that’s what I need more than anything right now. A good, hard, no strings attached sexcapade to unload some of my stress.
But I don’t beg. And I’m not here to get laid.
It’s time to start living my life as the real Grace Finch.
I just have to find her first.