Gavin
I’m a man at the end of the day, and something inside me has awakened. When I held her in my arms, I felt like I wasn’t in the cabin anymore but somewhere else. I felt something.
And something when you’ve been a numb soul all your life is everything.
I enjoy being alone. I enjoy reading books before I go to sleep. I enjoy living in the mountains where there isn’t another soul for miles. Just nature, the sounds of the earth moving every day.
I want to worry only about Merelyn and myself. I avoid judgment. I avoid human connection like it’s the plague.
What I didn’t anticipate was that I had to fight the urge to enjoy the way my lips wanted to curl up and match Coraline’s beaming smile after I pulled her out of the avalanche.
Or the way her cold body shuddered against mine near the fire, pulled heartstrings I never thought I had. All I wanted was for her to live today.
She upsets me.
In the beginning, we didn’t get along much, but I’m determined to change that. I don’t know what to do with myself with a beautiful woman like Coraline so close to me.
But...before she went into the shower, all I wanted was to bark out all the reasons why venturing onto my land during a storm was one of the most stupid ideas she’s had since being in my home. And I couldn’t do it.
I held back, and I don’t do that for anyone.
I’m sitting on the couch, a Shiner beer in my hand, waiting for her to come out.
Waiting for Coraline Rosa.
Her name is perfect. Beautiful.
Like her.
I’m not stupid. At the end of the day, I’m a man.
A man who notices how naturally and effortlessly majestic she is.
My fingers got lost in the threads of her long, black, thick, wet hair when they weaved through my fingers.
Her skin is so glowingly soft, a beautiful soft brown tone that I could spend endless hours admiring.
She has these cute little freckles all over her shoulder blades and neck. I counted them while I held her.
There are twenty in total.
It’s like she doesn’t know how gorgeous she is and the effect she can have on anyone.
Steam clouds seep through the cracks of the bathroom door. She has the heat on high. I can hear the shower running, with occasional splashes of water hitting the tub. There’s a towel already inside, ready for her to use.
For the first time, I don’t want to go to bed early. I don’t feel the need to grab a book and read until I fall asleep. I want to have a conversation. I want to get to know her. I want to know everything before she leaves.
The shower knob squeaks, and the water stops.
My fingers tighten around the glass before I bring it to my lips and take a nervous sip.
I haven’t felt like this…ever. I thought I was broken.
Incapable of wanting to share my space with someone else.
Yet, here I am, hoping my long, overgrown mustache and beard don’t turn her off, or if I let my callous attitude get the best of me.
I don’t want our first bumpy days to taint how she looks at me.
My back straightens when the bedroom door opens. I haven’t slept in there since I found her looking like a fresh corpse in the snow.
Her footsteps become louder as I sit still, tense and clutching my chest, hoping my heart will stop beating out of it.
She appears from the dark hallway, dressed in my clothes because I’ve run out of Merelyn’s old ones.
She looks amazing in my black shirt and joggers, even though her petite body makes my shirt look like a dress.
I laugh. My eyes crease as I watch her cheeks pinken. She holds herself by the hips, her arms folding over each other.
“Why are you laughing?” she pouts.
“Because my clothes fit you perfectly. Can’t you tell by the way you’re dragging the pants?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Still sarcastic, I see.”
“Still fucking stubborn, I see.”
Her lips part.
“Don’t worry, I thought about telling you how stupid, irresponsible, foolish, and dumb it was to go out when the blizzard is at its peak, risking your life and how—”
“You thought about telling me?” she snaps, clicking her tongue. “You’re doing it right now.”
My jaw clicks shut.
My social skills are shit.
“I’m sorry.” I clear my throat. “Let’s start over. Will you let me start over?”
She stares at me for a pregnant moment, then her chin dips.
I want a do-over. She’s stuck with me for weeks. And we might as well start getting along. I crave her attention, her laugh, and her smile. I don’t plan on leaving her alone in the cabin again unless it’s an emergency.
She stops in front of me, and her hand stretches forward.
“Fine.” She sighs. “Starting over. I’m Coraline. Coraline Rosa.”
I take her small palm in mine and squeeze, ignoring the crackle in my chest and the spark heating when our flesh connects.
“Gavin Ariksen.” Our hands rock for a couple of more seconds before she pulls away.
“Well, Gavin Ariksen,” she sings, her voice teasing.
“I really need to talk to you about a lot of things.” She fishes the beer out of my hand and takes a swig.
My dick jumps in my sweats, watching her confidently drink it, seeing her lips where mine were a second ago.
She falls and sinks into the couch opposite me.
“What is it?”
“How about starting with the fact that your home is haunted!” her shrieking voice pitches.
She thinks my cabin is haunted? That’s a first.
“It’s not.”
“Yes, it is,” she replies. Looking around the room, she inspects the ceiling. “Do you have cameras? I don’t see any.”
“I don’t need cameras. I have a security system in place.” I say, confidently. I raise my shirt, my Glock sitting tucked in my waistband. Her face tightens. “My security.” I cover my weapon with my shirt.
“Another thing,” she raises the beer and takes another long swallow. I watch her throat roll, “I was chased by a mother moose and a pack of wolves. I will never go out there again.” Her eyes bulge.
I chuckle, my chest rising and falling hard. She’s dramatic, but I like it.
“Who is trying to kill you, by the way? Are you in some sort of trouble? Owe someone money?” Even though there’s humor laced in my tone, I’m genuinely upset at the thought of someone trying to hurt Coraline.
To go to these lengths. She seems like a sweet girl…
a little naive, but doesn’t warrant that type of hatred and insanity.
That’s why I think this idea of someone running her off the road is almost unbelievable.
I hate to say it, but her story is skeptical. I’ll keep that part to myself.
“I don’t know!” she quips, her voice cracking with a sullen croak.
Her eyes turn glassy as she runs her fingers against the healing gash on her face.
“I don’t know who is trying to kill me. It all started about a few weeks ago, when I received a letter bearing a simple threat.
‘I’m going to kill you,’ she mocks. “It was so comical to me that I didn’t think much of it.
But now, ever since I came to Sleepy Coldwater, I’ve been getting texts from an unknown number.
And now? He ran me off the road. My rental car is wrecked.
You found me before he could finish me off.
And now I have scars on my body.” She pushes me away, and her posture collapses.
“I’m scared,” she whispers. “I’m so fucking scared, Gavin.
” Her weary gaze drifts in my direction, then flickers back to the beer in her hand—a flash of fear written in her brown irises.
I don’t like hearing her voice tremble like this.
“I don’t mean to be that guy who tells you it’s all in your head, so please don’t get offended. I don’t think anyone is out there right now. No one could survive that storm outside like that with no shelter or heat.”
“You have to believe me, Gavin,” she pleads, leaning forward. “I know I sound crazy. I feel like I’ve been going crazy.” She swallows nervously. “From the accident. Seeing figures disappear from your home into thin air. This is all so weird to me,” she murmurs. “Has anyone died here?”
I stiffen.
I don’t want to talk about death. I know it’s been a while since I’ve talked to someone as beautiful as her, and I’d rather talk about anything else than the history of this place.
She shifts in her seat when I don’t answer, drawing her brows tight, her cheeks flushing.
Her beautiful honey eyes drift toward the crackling fireplace instead.
“Sweetheart, do I scare you?”
She turns back to me wide-eyed.
“Why?”
I shrug.
“Because everyone is.”
Everyone is scared of me. No one comes onto my land unless they need something. No one cares to talk to me because of my history. A history that will send this beautiful girl running out of my house in the middle of the night if she finds out.
She blinks slowly.
I can see her pulse pounding away on her dainty neck.
“Get some sleep. I’ll take the couch, and well, you can take the bed.”
I take the beer from her hand and give her mine to help her to her feet.
“I don’t think I can,” she says, her hips brushing against mine as she heads toward the hallway.
“Go to sleep, Coraline. It’s late.”
“Gavin. You saved my life twice.” I stop walking. She pauses and flicks her nervous gaze to me. Her chest reddens as I wait for her to finish.
“Thank you,” she says.
My brow rises. Where is this going? We’re standing right outside my bedroom. The sound of trees scratching the outside walls joins our deep, shallow breaths. She smells like my shampoo, with a hint of something sweet.
“For what?”
“For everything. For helping me. For talking to me,” she says, looking straight at me. My chest swells until it’s full of warmth and good feelings.
“Talking to you?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She smiles with sunshine. “You listen to me. You really look at me. And it’s been a really long time since someone has.”
We stand there, only an inch of thick tension dripping in between our rising and falling chests in the middle of the hallway.
Her diamond ring on her finger glistens against the distant fire from the living room.
It shines like the biggest cockblock it is, reminding me that she’s taken.
I saw it on her after I pulled her out of the snow, but I didn’t ask about it.
“Doesn’t your husband see you?” I ask, placing my hand on the wall beside her head. My palm sticks to it, helping me balance myself. “Where is he? Why isn’t he here in Alaska with you?”
She takes a step forward, closing the distance. Everything hardens inside of me from head to toe, keeping me from falling into her. I swear, the way she’s looking at me has me wanting to stay up all night listening to her talk about anything and everything.
“He’s not here,” she shrugs.
I don’t know why I care. I don’t know why I was hoping she’d say she’s single. It pulls me out of the trance she naturally encases me in. I’m not that type of man. I don’t go after taken women.
“Goodnight, Coraline.” I take a step backward, drinking the last of the beer. The bitter taste runs down my tongue and into my throat.
“Goodnight, Ga—” Her face pales. Her eyes grow wide, her mouth frozen in time as I watch her track something behind me.
“What is it?”
“Right there!” She points behind me. “I saw something!”
I turn around and glance over to the kitchen. There’s no one.
“What did you see?”
The island is empty. Merelyn and Georgia are asleep next door. Nothing is out of place. The doors are locked. I place my hand on my gun, just in case the fucker she talks about tries to break in. She comes up close and slightly presses her chest against my back.
. “I saw another one of those disappearing shadows! Gavin. Your house is haunted!” Both hands flail over her head, wildly.
Jesus. She really won’t stop with the ghost thing.
My head dips back as I palm my face, smoothing over my mustache and beard. I stare at the ceiling, holding back.
“No, it’s not.”
“You’re telling me you’ve never experienced anything weird happening here? Lights flickering? Doors slamming? Random shadows moving on your porch?” She pours out question after question like I’m being interviewed.
“Everything has a scientific explanation.” I sigh.
“Like what?” She slaps her hand against her thigh, impatiently.
“The lights flickering—the storm. The door slamming? The wind. Yeah, Merelyn told me she found you in my basement. Which, stay the hell out of there.” She rears back at my calloused tone.
“And the shadows moving? It was an animal. Elk, Moose, deer, hell, it could have even been a bear,” I quip. “It happens daily out here.”
“And so you’re back to being an ass.” She crosses her arms against her chest, rolling her eyes.
“I guess so.” I grind my teeth.
“And here I thought we were finally getting along.”
I shake my head, feeling defeated.
“I’m going to take the couch.”
“No!” She pulls my hand back. I stare at her hand wrapped around three of my fingers. My nostrils flare the longer I fight the hot wave of fire.
“I just mean you should take the bed.”
She is so damn stubborn, but telling her no is the last thing I want to do, and if I say yes, all I’m going to be thinking about is wanting to taste her, steal a kiss, or watch her sleep.
“No.”
“Gavin,” she insists. “Please.”
Her shoulders fall, her fingers convulse around her sides, clearly rattled with nerves, and her face is pale.
She’s still shaken by everything that happened today.
She almost lost her life, and if I thought someone was trying to kill me at every corner, I wouldn’t be able to think straight, either.
I honestly wouldn’t sleep until I buried them.
Fucking fuck.
I’m not good at comforting or expressing emotions.
“I’m not taking the bed,” I say, heading for the trash can. I toss the beer inside and palm the island, leaning over it. I turn to her.
Her expression falls into disappointment. She pivots on her feet and turns, heading into my room.
“I’m taking the small couch in the corner of the room.”
She peers over her shoulder and smiles.