Chapter 3
SANDY
Well, well, the entire lodge to myself, shared only with the hottest mountain hermit I’ve ever laid eyes on. Alright, he’s the only mountain hermit I’ve ever met. But what a fantastic representative he is for his people!
In the bath, thoughts of Emmett bubble up around me, crackling, popping with such force that my toes curl.
Watching him build me a fire, with the storm beating at the windows and booming over the lodge, was something straight out of a fantasy.
I’ve spent countless nights in rustic hotels, lakeside Airbnbs, and ski-town timeshares.
This is the only time the hunky owner of the property got down on his knees to keep me warm.
That thought catches in my mind. Emmett Reins is the owner of this gorgeous lodge.
Why?
The man seemingly has no interest in entertaining guests. He’s a rigid, grunting hermit with the people skills of a brick. So what is he doing running this place? Why doesn’t he have a team of staff members to handle the front-facing side of his little business?
And why do I find him so frustratingly attractive?
Maybe it’s because all that wrath he unleashed on that horrible woman was tamped down and kept from me.
With me, it feels like he’s constantly on the verge of cracking the biggest smile he’s ever smiled, if only he could remember how.
He’s fun to be around, if only because everything I do or say makes his cheeks go rosy.
I’m the girl who turns the grizzly into a teddy bear.
But there’s something much, much deeper going on.
Those warm, dark eyes gaze at me with a hunger only fire knows. A consuming, broiling heat burns when he looks at me. When the door to my room shut behind us, I thought that we wouldn’t emerge until we were both sweaty, sore, and satisfied.
I’m dying to feel that temptation again.
The evening is dark when I finally leave the comfort of my room. After a day of travel, I’d usually huddle up by the fire all night, swallowed up by a blanket. All I really need is a book and a cup of tea.
But Emmett is in the lodge, somewhere, and I need to hear that deep voice.
He keeps this place nice and toasty, so even though the storm is raging on outside, I don’t need to bundle up like I’m about to venture out into it.
I’ve slipped into a flowing summer dress and a pair of clogs.
My hair is still a little wet from the bath, occasionally sending a drop of water tickling down my back.
The halls are a little chilly, so I make my way toward the lobby and the fire burning there.
The lodge is eerily silent.
With no other guests, it almost feels like wandering through a haunted house.
The halls are dimly lit with warm lights that flicker like candles.
It’s strange, passing the doors to the other rooms, knowing that they’re empty.
At any moment, some tortured spirit might materialize through a wall and grab me by the—“Oh GOD!”
I actually jump out of my clogs.
A sleek black cat has come around the corner of the hall. It struts with its tail in the air, mewling at me as if it wants me to follow.
“You scared the crap out of me,” I sigh, holding my chest. “But… you are very cute. Forgiven!” I hold up my phone and take a long shot of the cat.
“Look, everyone, the lodge even has its own little mascot. No, I don’t know its name yet.
I’m thinking something fancy. Albert? Archibald? What do you think, cat?”
The cat trots off the way it came.
I slip my shoes back on and give chase. “Hey! Wait up! I’m not done filming you.”
Thunder crashes over the lodge as I follow the mysterious cat. It rubs itself on everything it passes, mewling the whole way.
“You sure are vocal. Interesting, since you live with a man who doesn’t say much…”
The cat leads me to the lobby. Even though it’s a spacious room with high ceilings, it’s much warmer than in the halls.
I stand at the top of the grand staircase, looking down at the dancing blaze in the massive fireplace, the lounging area, and the big window showing the storm for the night.
Lightning flashes, giving me a glimpse of the front grounds before it’s all plunged back into darkness.
“Evening.”
My eyes whip to the sound of Emmett’s voice. He’s sitting in a leather chair near the fire, a book in his hands. The man is so still and dark that I didn’t even notice him there at first glance. He truly blends into the wood and fire of the lodge.
The cat hurries over and rubs against his legs.
“Oh… Emmett.” I drag my hand down the railing as I take each step, trying my best to look sexy. “I was just following your cat—“
My shriek echoes in the lobby.
In my effort to look sexy, I forgot how to walk down stairs like a normal freaking person. My foot catches, and I’m sent tumbling.
Strong hands help me up, but they can do nothing to save me from my embarrassment. I brush the hair from my eyes and find Emmett’s stoic face looking down at me.
“Are you all right? Did you twist anything?” He kneels, like before, only this time his hands work over my legs and ankles, taking liberties even a medic would think twice about.
“Oh. I’m fine. Really!” I squeal as his hand slips under the low hem of my dress. His fingers probe my calf before finally releasing me.
He stands, looking a little perplexed by his own actions.
“Thank you,” I reassure him. “No broken bones, I promise.”
“No. I don’t think so. Your legs feel good.”
I arch an eyebrow. They feel good?”
“I mean…” His eyes widen and his chest heaves. “They felt fine. Nothing broken, like you said.”
Are we going to take turns making each other blush my entire stay? Truly, I wouldn’t mind.
I wouldn’t mind his hands on my legs again, either…
“I was just… interviewing your cat,” I say, letting Emmett take my arm and guide me down the stairs. “What’s its name?’
“Whiskey.”
“Whiskey?” I laugh. “I was way off.”
“He was my brother’s cat,” Emmett says as he leads me to one of the chairs in front of the fire. “He was corny.”
Was. Oh, no.
We sit across from each other, blanketed by the warmth of the flames.
I cross my legs, completely aware of Emmett’s habit of stealing glances where he shouldn’t.
That’s fine. I’m guilty of the same. The man is wearing a gray Henley shirt that lets some of his chest hair grow over the top like an unruly hedge.
The fabric hugs his beefy body, and he tugs the sleeves up his solid forearms.
“Your cat wasn’t much of an interviewee,” I say, wagging my phone. “How about you?”
“Me? I’ve got nothing interesting to say.”
“Nonsense.” I pull the legs on my phone’s gimbal out and set it up on the low coffee table beside us. The shot is perfect, framing us on either side of the fire. “You’re the owner of a quiet lodge in the mountains. I’m sure there’s an interesting story there.”
The second I hit record, Emmett goes rigid. He sits upright, hands on the arms of his chair, fingers digging into the leather.
“Relax,” I say lightly, taking my seat. “Don’t think about the camera. It’s just us. I would never post anything without letting you see it first and getting your permission. You can trust me.”
The fire crackles, joined by the sound of rain pouring down on the lodge. Whiskey struts back and forth between Emmett’s legs, purring softly.
Emmett holds my gaze and nods slowly.
“The lodge was my brother’s,” he says gravely. “He died three years ago.”
Oh, crap.
I throw a hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to dig into your trauma…”
“It’s fine.”
“You said he was corny, and I thought I was steering away from that by asking about the lodge.”
“You didn’t know.”
“It’s just, I’d really like to know more about you—“
“You would?” Emmett looks truly stunned. He stares at me like he’s seen a ghost. “Why?”
“Well, I’m sure you bought my totally believable story about not referring to you when I said ‘he’s hot’, but…”
Emmett laughs, relaxing a little.
“I’ve never been a great liar.” I shrug. “I pride myself on it.”
“Neither have I.”
I lean forward, pursing my lips. “Then can we both admit to being two strangers who are very attracted to one another? And getting that out of the way, can we get to know each other without feeling so awkward about the whole thing? I’m the only guest, Emmett. I’ve got no one else to talk to.”
Emmett narrows his eyes at me. “You’re very forward.”
“Only when I want something.”
“I’m forty, you know. An old man.”
I shrug. “That makes you more attractive. Younger men play games.”
“Who says that I don’t?’
“You?” I laugh, crossing my legs again, slower this time.
Like clockwork, Emmett’s eyes drop as the hem of my dress rides up.
I smile knowingly. “You’d be terrible at it.”
Our eyes meet, and a log cracks in the fire. If there’s still a storm pounding the mountain, I don’t notice.
“Yeah,” he says, daring to let himself crack a faint smile. “I am.”
“You’re what?”
“Bad at games.” He leans forward and rubs his hands together. “And very attracted to you.”
Even though I already knew, deep down, my stomach still does a flip. I reflexively lick my lips. Suddenly, the lodge feels very, very small. Cozy. Intimate.
Enough space for just the two of us… and Whiskey, of course.
Emmett looks into the fire, a smile hiding behind his beard.
His cheeks bunch up, folding the lines of wisdom and laughter beneath his dark eyes.
Whatever he sees in those flames makes him happy.
Memories of a time when perhaps he smiled and laughed as much as anyone else. Words start to pour out of him.
“Eric, my older brother, was the people person. If you knew him, you’d have a hard time believing we were related.
He just… lit up the room, you know?” He meets my eyes.
“He disarmed everyone, even me. Especially me. That man smiled, or laughed, or talked about anything, and you couldn’t help but join in.
He was contagious. This lodge was his dream. ”