Chapter Seven
Kara
Iwoke feeling energized for my fresh start. Uncle Walt had been gone for a month, and the sheets on his bed had collected a fine layer of dust. I’d need to clean the room and change the bedding, but first, a shower. The one thing I hadn’t done last night that I definitely should have.
I scooted across the hall to the bathroom and cranked the water as warm as I could stand it.
The cabin didn’t have a huge hot water tank, so I couldn’t stay in as long as I wanted to, but I pulled out my familiar vanilla-and-citrus shampoo and worked it through my hair.
I thought I heard the front door slam as I was rinsing my conditioner; Grant must be an early riser too.
I was just luxuriating under the spray when the water started going cold.
I took my time blow-drying my hair smooth, then moisturized, dressed, and got ready for the day. Not to look my best for Grant, obviously. Just to feel like myself, despite the turn of events over the last twenty-four hours.
When I left the bathroom and wandered into the kitchen, I found half a pot of coffee waiting in the machine. Grant didn’t seem to be around, so I helped myself. I took my coffee outside and took in the view.
I’d forgotten how much I loved it up here.
As a kid, I’d visited often. There had been trails all over the forest, including a favorite one behind the cabin.
When other kids had been around, we had wandered these trails for hours.
I’d had a favorite. One that led to a big rock with a flat top.
I had sat out there reading or playing. Curiosity got the best of me, and I stepped off the porch and wandered to the back of the cabin.
It took me a minute to find the path I was looking for.
It was mostly overgrown now, but I followed it anyway.
My coffee slopped over my hand when my shoe got caught on a root, but after a few minutes I found the rock.
Not that I expected a giant boulder to disappear, more that my memory might not be up to remembering it.
I scrambled up the side of it and sat down, the cold seeping through my leggings, the surface uncomfortable under my ass.
The place may not be exactly what I remembered it to be, but not everything had changed. It was still my place.
I sat there for longer than I should have, just getting reacquainted with the place. But reality always interfered. I realized I hadn’t checked my email since I had arrived.
I was a freelance graphic designer, technically working for myself, but if I didn’t work, I didn’t get paid.
With that in mind, I headed back inside.
And immediately froze.
Grant stood in the kitchen in nothing but a towel.
Again.
When the hell had he turned up?
“Why are you always naked in the kitchen?” I demanded, slamming my cup down on the counter.
He scowled. “I would’ve been naked in the bathroom, but I seem to be out of hot water.”
I bit my lip. “Oh. Sorry about that. Still doesn’t explain why you’re not dressed.”
He turned in my direction, eyes sweeping over me. It was chilly in the mornings, so I’d put on black leggings and a fitted long-sleeved shirt. Under his gaze, I felt about as naked as he was.
“You seem to fixate on the fact that I’m naked,” he said.
My hand twitched. I leaned against the counter and gripped the edge to keep myself still. “I just think it’s weird to be in the kitchen with nothing between your ass and the mountain air but a flimsy towel.”
“You worried about my ass now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“What? No, I just…I don’t want you to get cold, that’s all.”
He stalked closer, the front of his towel gaping just enough to draw my eyes downward. I took a small step back until the counter pressed into my spine.
He was close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his chest. I could smell the woodsy scent of his soap. I could see every individual strand of stubble on his jaw.
And why the hell was I staring at his mouth?
He planted a hand on the counter beside my hip and leaned in. “If you were worried about me being cold, you shouldn’t have used all the goddamn hot water.” He glanced at the counter. “Or drank the rest of my coffee, for that matter.”
He held my gaze for a moment longer, just long enough for me to register that my panties were damp, before he pushed off the counter and stalked toward the hallway.
I watched his ass as he went. Déjà vu from yesterday, but it was more than that.
I just wasn’t sure how much more.