Chapter 3
Chapter Three
H udson
I round the corner of the cabin, the weight of the firewood biting into my forearms, the scent of fresh pine clinging to my shirt. Just as I’m about to nudge the door open with my boot, her voice stops me cold—soft, quiet, threaded with something I can’t name.
“No, I haven’t told him everything...” Palmer’s on the phone, her voice drifting out the cracked kitchen window like smoke. “He thinks I’m over it, but I still can’t sleep without thinking about him.”
I freeze, every muscle going taut. My knuckles tighten around the logs. I knew this woman had a secret, I’ve been biting my tongue but I’m regretting that decision now.
“Sometimes,” she continues, her voice barely a whisper, “I think about the way he used to look at me—like I belonged to him.”
The breath punches from my lungs, sharp and unexpected. I stare at the grain of the firewood like it’s got answers. She still thinks about him . Still remembers how he looked at her. Like she was his. My jaw clenches so tight it aches. I should walk away. Give her privacy. But I don’t.
“He’s always watching. I can feel it. I just want to feel safe again.”
But the words don’t land right. I hear them, but they don’t sink in—not fully. Not the way they should. All I catch is he’s always watching , tangled with the sound of fear slipping off her lips like some ghost she can’t let go of. She doesn’t feel safe with me.
I turn back toward the woodpile, a mixture of disappointment and rage simmering beneath my skin. A part of me knew it—knew this was temporary. That some part of her still belonged to him. And the fear that she might run back to the bastard wraps around my chest like barbed wire. Tight. Sinking deep.
What the hell am I doing opening up my world for a woman who might already belong to someone else? I spend the next hour chopping wood and trying to keep her sweet smile off my mind. By the time I walk back into my kitchen, I’ve decided that this woman is off-limits, at least as far as my heart is concerned.
Palmer Lane walks around my cabin like she owns the place. Head high, shoulders squared, those bright green eyes scanning my space like she belongs here. I help her clean up the dishes in the kitchen from her pasta-making, silence lingering between us before I finally utter, “was thinking we could get married at the courthouse, maybe this weekend?”
“That sounds…romantic.”
She drops the dish towel on the counter, pursing her lips like she’s just found herself in a bear den. Which, considering I live here, ain’t far from the truth.
I fold my arms. “Listen, I told you, I don’t need a wife. Just a name on the paperwork.”
She doesn’t flinch. Just lifts a brow, smirking. “And I don’t need a husband. Just a place to stay.”
My teeth grind.
Battle lines drawn in the dirt.
She turns on her heel, leaving the kitchen and climbing the staircase to the loft. I follow her, feeling like a hundred things have been left unsaid between us but not sure what exactly. I watch as she digs through one of her suitcases, pulling out what looks like half the inventory of a high-end boutique. Silk blouses. Delicate lingerie. Shiny heels. Nothing that belongs anywhere near Devil’s Peak.
Christ.
“What the hell are you gonna do with all that up here?” I finally ask.
She doesn’t look up. “Wear it.”
My jaw ticks. This woman is not built for the mountain. She’s soft, delicate. Like one of those expensive glass figurines you find in fancy city stores.
And she’s hiding something.
I can see it in the way her shoulders tense whenever a truck rumbles past the cabin. In the way she keeps checking her phone like she’s waiting for the devil himself to call. I don’t have time for games. This arrangement is simple. She needed a safe place, I needed a name on the deed. That’s it. No strings. No complications. No her getting under my damn skin.
The door swings open downstairs then, and I know before I even turn around that it’s them.
Liam’s slow drawl cuts through the cabin first. “Well, well, well. Didn’t take long for you to get a woman up here, Kane.”
Grady grins, leaning against the doorway like he’s got all the time in the world. “Damn. Didn’t think you’d actually go through with the mail-order bride thing. Thought for sure it was just one of your grumpy rants.”
Fox, silent as ever, just smirks, eyes flicking between me and Palmer like he already knows exactly what’s going on in my head.
I scowl. “She’s not my wife.”
Grady gestures toward Palmer, who’s standing there with her arms crossed, looking all too pleased with my suffering. “She got a ring on her finger?”
I grunt.
Grady lets out a bark of laughter. “Then she’s your wife.”
Palmer sighs dramatically, shaking her head. “I hate to break up this touching bromance, but does anyone want coffee? I need something strong if I’m going to survive living with him. ”
She jerks her thumb toward me.
Liam lets out a low whistle. “Oh yeah. She’s got you pegged already.”
I glare. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
Grady grins. “Nope.”
I hate my friends.
Palmer smirks, making her way toward the kitchen. “I’ll make a fresh pot. Maybe some cookies, too.”
I stare after her, scowling.
Grady nudges my arm. “You’re screwed, man.”
Fox just lifts a brow. “She hiding something?”
I grunt. “She’s got a past she won’t talk about. And I think it has to do with her ex.”
Grady’s grin drops.
Fox and Liam exchange a look.
I keep going. “She’s running from something. Flinches at every loud noise. Keeps ignoring phone calls. But she won’t tell me who. Got a feelin’ she left someone behind that’s missing her.”
Liam leans against the wall, crossing his arms. “And you think she’s still in love with him?”
I grind my molars. “I know so, overheard her on the phone earlier. Said she’s afraid of me.”
Fox shrugs. “Maybe she’s scared of him.”
Grady leans in. “Or maybe she’s just scared of falling for a grumpy bastard like you.”
I glare. “Don’t you have a life to get back to?”
Grady smirks. “Nah. This is more fun.”
Palmer returns, holding a cup of coffee, steam curling around her delicate fingers.
She hands it to me with a sickly sweet smile. “Drink up, husband. ”
I take it, eyeing her. She holds my gaze, not backing down. The air crackles. I know what she’s doing. Testing me. Seeing how far she can push before I push back. I take a slow sip, never breaking eye contact. Then I lower the mug and mutter, “Hope you didn’t poison it.”
Her lips curve. “Not yet.”
Grady lets out a low whistle. “Yeah. He’s done for.”
Fox nods. “Over before it even started.”
Liam smirks. “Bet he’s in love before winter.”
Palmer freezes.
So do I.
The room goes dead silent.
Then, like she’s shaking something off, she lets out a fake laugh. “Not a chance.”
I smirk, slow and sure. “That a challenge?”
Her eyes narrow. “You wish.”
I take another sip of coffee, fighting the grin tugging at my lips. This woman. She’s trouble. And I think I like it. But still, I just can’t shake the sense that whatever is haunting her past isn’t over. What kind of fool would ever let her go? If this woman was mine I’d never let her out of my sight–much less head across the country to shack up with a stranger in the mountains. Whatever life this woman left behind is still dogging her, and I’m determined to get to the bottom of it.