Chapter 7 - Stacy
Why is it so damn cold?
Bleary-eyed, I poke my head out of the warmth of the covers and watch my breath form in the air around my head.
The barest of morning light filters in through the icy windows that rattle with the driving gale.
Shit. I think the power went out.
Maybe it will come back on?
I burrow back into the covers and hope that this is just temporary. My electricity has been out before in Ohio, but never for very long.
Well, I remember my mom talking about once when I was a kid it was out for a week after a big ice storm.
Surely this won’t be like that?
I’ll just text the owner to let them know.
Great, the internet isn’t working either. And this is too far in the middle of nowhere to have cell coverage.
So entirely not helpful.
Trying to go back to sleep doesn’t help as the chill starts to seep in.
Curling into a ball beneath the layers, I finally resign myself to the fact that I need to start a fire.
This sucks.
I’m shivering before I climb out of bed to rapidly tug on extra clothes.
Taking another look outside past the frosty edges, I swear there’s at least six fresh inches of snow out there.
But it’s blowing so hard I can’t tell. On one side of my car it’s nearly up to the roof, where the hood is still bare.
I’m not driving out of here today.
Okay. Heat, baby.
Staring at the cold fireplace, I have no idea where to start. There’s a small pile of wood rounds. I should be able to just light them?
I take three and make a pretty pyramid in the hearth, then manage to get the lighter to spark a tiny flame.
It burns my thumb long before the bark catches.
There has to be a trick to this.
If I had Google, I’d try to see how to make one. I’m sure there’s some sort of Boy Scout tutorial channel, right?
Gosh I could go for a hot cup of coffee.
Wait. The neighbors have smoke coming from their chimney.
Would it be strange if I asked them for help? Better than slowly freezing to death.
Screw it, they seem nice. They’ve kept to themselves. The hottie with the beard didn’t even act upset when he caught me watching him chop wood.
I just need a little guidance on getting this started, then I can do the rest myself.
Bundling up with an extra sweatshirt under my coat makes me feel like a beluga whale as I waddle out onto the porch.
Holy cow is that wind biting!
My gloves muffle the thump of my knuckles on their door.
It feels like forever as I stand out here turning into an icicle.
I bet they didn’t hear me.
Raising my arm again, I try to knock on air as the wood swings open away from me.
“Oh, hi.” The man with the beard answers with a dazzling smile that reaches his caramel colored eyes.
It sends a sizzle of heat through me.
“Hi. I’m sorry, I hate to bother you. My power is out, and I’m having a hard time getting my fire going in my place.” I gesture across the street towards my cold cabin.
Like he doesn’t know where I came from.
I’m an idiot.
“Yea, come on in while I get my stuff on.” He steps back with a broad sweep of his muscular arm.
“Thank you so much,” I blurt out, following him over the threshold. “I was hoping the electricity would come back on by now.”
“It’s not a problem, I was a Boy Scout.” His grin is infectious, drifting over me with his scent of pine and leather.
A snort comes from the living room. “Don’t let Reece bullshit you. He just liked to party in the woods a lot in high school.”
Reece, huh?
“Ah, how rude of me.” Reece casts a scowl towards the other man. “That cynical grump is Dean. I’m Reece.” He stuffs his hand through the sleeve of his Carhartt coat, then sticks out his palm.
It’s so warm. And big. But gentle.
“I’m Stacy.” An involuntary shiver runs through me.
But I don’t think it’s from the cold.
Reece’s forehead furrows as he watches me. “Do you want to thaw out a few minutes before we go over? It’ll take a while for your cabin to warm up even after we get the fire going.”
Clenching my jaw keeps my teeth from chattering. “Actually, that would be really nice.”
Reece quickly sheds his jacket and returns it to the hook. “Here, let me.” He holds open his hands, indicating my own coat.
My fingers are numb as I tug off my mittens and fumble with the buttons, but thankfully let him peel it from my shoulders.
“Come in, have a seat. Coffee? Tea?” He’s a perfect host, leading me to a hefty leather chair near the huge stone fireplace that encompasses an entire wall.
This place is huge in comparison to mine. Yet it feels cozy. The sheepskin rug really completes the whole picture.
“Coffee, please.” I’m afraid to put my feet up on the cushion. This is much more high end than I’m used to.
“Don’t be shy,” Dean grunts at me, then stands with a thick fleece throw blanket. “Go ahead and wrap up, get comfortable. I promise we won’t bite.” There’s a shadow of a smile over his sharp jaw that carries to his dark eyes as he unfolds the wrap to drape over my knees.
I wish they would. Both of these men are gorgeous in their own rights.
Reece with his wild, curly, sunkissed hair that feathers over his ears, versus Dean and his close-cut slicked style of nearly obsidian that makes him look like Carey Grant from the old movies.
Reece brings a french press to the fire and pours from a steaming teapot into it. “Had to improvise.”
And then he winks at me.
It does something funny to my insides.
I hope Dean doesn’t catch me watching Reece’s ass as he walks away.
Being around them both is certainly heating me up from the inside out.
When Reece hands me a steaming cup, I nearly melt from the aroma.
Taking a tentative sip, the piping hot coffee sears its way into my belly, but in the best way.
“This is so delicious, thank you.” I give them both a bright smile.
Dean’s eyes crinkle slightly, but Reece breaks into a wide grin.
They’re adorable.
“So, Stacy? Where are you from?” Dean picks up his own mug and takes a long swallow as he crosses one of his lean legs over his knee.
“Akron, Ohio. Like, hmm, six hours or so from here? How about you two?” God, this coffee is so good.
“We’re from New York City.” Reece jaunts his hip to lean against the counter.
Dean’s wrist lifts to flick his fingers towards Reece. “Originally from a tiny town in Indiana. Which is why we opted for this place away from the hustle of the city for the holidays.”
“How about you, Stacy? What brings you to the middle of nowhere for Christmas?” Reece pops a grape into his mouth.
My nose wrinkles at the sour feeling that comes with that.
“It’s kind of…complicated.” Tugging the warm fleece closer to my chin, I toe off my boots and pull up my legs so I’m in a ball on the chair.
Glancing between the two men I don’t know, I guess it doesn’t matter if they think I’m pathetic. I’ll never see them again after this.
“I got dumped two weeks ago and already had the cabin booked.” I shrug against the leather armchair cushion. “I didn’t want to go through the hassle of a refund, so decided to just come up here anyway.”
It’s not as sharp of a pain as it was in the beginning.
Dean snorts. “Well, he was a fool.”
His jaw tics as he raises his cup back to his lips.
But those eyes, black as midnight, watch me with a reverence that feels as if he’s looking into me.
He might act aloof, but I get what Reece sees in him.
“I agree,” Reece echoes Dean, then steps between us to drop onto the couch opposite of me. His thick legs drape along the length of it like tree trunks.
Yes, they both have very admirable traits.
The image of the two of them, entwined in lust, filters through my mind.
Heat rushes into my limbs. I’m so glad they can’t hear my thoughts.
“I appreciate it. I had some work to get caught up on, so it’s made for a nice getaway. Except now the internet is out.” My eyes roll towards the ceiling, but it’s not nearly as pleasant to look at as the two Greek gods sitting in front of me.
“What do you do?” Dean’s gaze pierces me, despite his quiet words.
It makes me squirm slightly with how intense it is.
I always hate the million questions when I tell people I’m an artist. It always feels like I have to defend myself.
“I’m a freelance consultant, nothing exciting.” My thumb traces the ceramic handle.
That wasn’t exactly a lie. More like I blurred the edges a bit.
Reece’s muscular arm tucks behind his head, showcasing his bulging bicep. “That must be nice, working for yourself?”
“There’s ups and downs.” Taking the last swallow from my cup, I’m a little sad to find it empty. “What about you two?” They both look comfortable in this lavish cabin.
Dean’s shoes are likely designer, although I don’t know the brand.
Reece smiles. “Oh, we’re—”
“Writers,” Dean finishes. “Working on a new book.”
“I love that!” I wiggle in my seat, leaning forward. “There are just not enough creatives in this world,” I say with a sigh.
The corner of his lip twitches. “You’re absolutely right. Humans thrive on beauty and art.” His tone is laced with thinly veiled passion. “It’s a travesty that so many choose to just exist without it.”
Ugh, I think I love this broody man.
“What do you think, Stacy?” Reece raises his brows and sits up. “Warm enough to try to burn stuff? We can get your fire going, then come back for some lunch while your place heats up?”
He pats Dean on the arm. “Otherwise, the professor here will begin a college worthy lecture on classical paintings and light angles.”
“Yes, please.” I let my fingers slide into his offered palm.
They’re callused, but he lifts me gently.
The insides of my shoes are still cool when I stuff my feet back into them. Nothing like before, though.
“I’ll take that.” Dean gestures for my empty cup and rises from his chair.
Oh. He’s taller than I expected.
I feel like I’m standing in a forest surrounded by redwoods, dwarfed by the two handsomest men I’ve seen in ages.
“It was very good, thank you.” It no sooner leaves my palm than Reece is holding my coat for me to thread my arms into.
A girl could get used to this.
“You’re spoiling me.” I can feel the burn in my cheeks. I’m not used to such attention.
“A lady deserves it,” Dean mutters from the kitchen as Reece opens the door.
I can’t entirely tell if it was meant for me to hear.
But it makes my heart race.