Chapter 1 #2
“So you’re the famous Audra,” she says, pulling me into an unexpected hug. “I’ve heard stories for years. ‘Audra would love this view.’ ‘Audra always said I should update the website.’ ‘Remember that time Audra and I—’”
“Taylor,” Reese warns, but he’s blushing.
“What? I’m just saying, it’s nice to finally meet the woman who—”
“Who’s very hungry and would love to know what’s for dinner,” Reese interrupts.
Taylor grins wickedly but takes mercy on him. “Pot roast. And I made extra because I know how much you used to eat, Reese. Though I bet Audra remembers your legendary ability to clear out the dining hall’s entire pizza station.”
“That was one time,” he protests.
“It was every Tuesday,” I correct, falling into the easy rhythm of shared memories. “And you always saved me the last slice of pepperoni.”
“Because you always forgot to eat when you were stressed about projects.”
“And you always noticed.”
We look at each other, the weight of that observation hanging between us. He always noticed everything about me. Just like I noticed everything about him.
Like right now, when I’m trying desperately not to notice how different he looks from the clean-cut business major I knew.
The Cornell Reese wore pressed khakis and button-downs he never seemed comfortable in, his hair always perfectly styled for recruiting events.
This Reese—Mountain Man Reese, my traitorous brain supplies—is something else entirely.
The flannel shirt stretches across shoulders that definitely didn’t come from a gym membership.
The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms corded with the kind of muscle you get from actual work—chopping wood, hauling supplies, building things with your hands.
His jeans are worn soft in a way designer distressing could never replicate, sitting low on his hips, fitting in a way that makes my mouth go dry.
But it’s the details that really get me.
The scruff along his jaw that the old Reese would have shaved off immediately.
The way his hair is slightly too long, curling at his collar like he hasn’t bothered with a barber in months.
The faint tan lines at his neck from working outside.
Even the way he stands is different—more grounded, more comfortable in his own skin, like he’s finally stopped trying to be what everyone expected and just decided to be himself.
* * *
Dinner is a warm, lively affair, but I’m hyperaware of Reese beside me—the way he automatically refills my wine glass when it’s low, how he remembers I don’t like mushrooms and discretely moves them from my plate to his, the familiar rumble of his laugh when Taylor tells embarrassing stories about their childhood.
“So, Audra,” one of the other guests asks, “what brings you to our little mountain paradise?”
“Escape,” I answer honestly. “My life in the city got a bit too... much.”
“She’s an event planner,” Reese adds with unmistakable pride. “One of the best in New York. She handles all those fancy society weddings you see in magazines.”
“How did you know that?” I haven’t told him anything about my career beyond the basics.
He looks sheepish. “I saw that Times article about you a few months ago. The charity gala at the—”
“You read about that?”
“Hard to miss,” he replies. “You made the business section—‘entrepreneurs under forty.’ They called you Manhattan’s most sought-after event planner.”
I feel my cheeks warm. “My mom sent me that Cornell alumni magazine feature. Something about graduates making a difference in their communities. You were in it.”
“Your mom still reads the alumni magazine?” Reese asks.
“Religiously. She forwards me anything she thinks is ‘inspirational.’” I make air quotes, and we both laugh. As conversation flows around us, Reese and I are in our own bubble, ten years of careful distance crumbling with every shared glance.
After dinner, he walks me back to my cabin. The night is clear and cold, stars scattered across the sky like spilled diamonds.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says softly. “Even if it’s just for a week. Even if it’s complicated.”
“Everything with us was always complicated.”
“Not everything.” He steps closer. “The best parts were easy. Natural.”
My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it. “Reese—”
“I know,” he says, stepping back. “You’re here to find peace. To figure things out. I respect that. But Audra?” He waits until I meet his eyes. “You’re welcome here. For as long as you want. No expiration date.”
He leaves me standing on my porch, breathless and off-balance. Inside my cabin, I sit on the bed and try to make sense of the day. I came here to escape my life, to avoid complications and feelings and all the messiness that comes with caring too much.
Instead, I’ve landed right in the middle of my biggest unfinished business—Reese Ashton, the boy I was too scared to love properly when I had the chance.
The boy who’s become a man who still looks at me like I’m something precious.
I came here to find peace, to remember how to breathe.
I didn’t expect to find him. I didn’t expect to realize that maybe I’ve been holding my breath for ten years, waiting to see him again.
And I definitely didn’t expect the legal document I glimpsed in his pocket, or the way his jaw tightened when he mentioned conditions on his inheritance.
Something’s wrong. Something he’s not telling me.