4. Chapter 4
Onyx
W ith the bedroom door closed behind me, I put my hands on my hips and surveyed the neatly made bed. While I appreciated the clean sheets and the added blanket, I found myself missing the lived-in look it had before. It wasn’t unkempt, but it wasn’t smoothed out as it was now. I'd spent enough time in hotels and an RV on tour that nothing felt homier than a rumpled bed.
This wasn't my home, though I already liked it enough, and I really wished it would be for the next month. I couldn't believe how foolish I'd been when I booked it. Why didn't I look into it more? It seemed legit, or maybe I had been so taken by the photos and the views shown on the cabin's page that I ignored any red flags. A scam ! I couldn't believe this happened.
It was bad enough I was out the money I paid for a month's rental. Shit, even a year ago, it would have taken me months to save up enough for even a weekend stay. Now it was almost nothing to spend that kind of money and not blink twice about it. The money I could live without, but if everything was as booked up as Theo suggested, it meant I would have a really hard time trying to find somewhere else local to stay for the rest of my planned break. Already, the fresh, brisk air and lack of city sounds were refreshing. And the cabin... sigh .
The cabin was a dream. Ten times better than the old pictures showed. Modernized, but not high tech or chic. It was cozy and made me feel like I could call it home for a while. The queen-sized bed had a rustic log frame that was right out of a cottage-core fantasy. If Theodore really made all the furniture, he was talented as hell. Perhaps a bit strange, though.
This whole thing had been strange. I tried to make polite conversation, but he seemed a little freaked out by me, or maybe just having someone in his home. With the way he seemed surprised every time I spoke or he noticed me, I got the impression he didn't host much. Not that he owed me conversation or information, I was just grateful he didn't kick me out, and that he didn't seem like an axe murderer.
I did feel badly about him sleeping on the couch in his own house, but he seemed set on the idea and I didn’t want to offend his hospitality. Setting my cardigan on the raised handle of my suitcase, I climbed into the bed, appreciating the weight of multiple blankets, but as comforting as it was, I couldn’t help but replay my mistake.
No one knew what happened. My brother and my manager had the address for the cabin, so I supposed I would have to update them when I found another place. I had a good relationship with my manager after the countless hours working together, but there was still a professional line between us, one I hated to break with this big SNAFU. My brother, on the other hand, well... I didn’t want the lecture.
Jude was my twin. We were tight, always had been. He took on the role of big brother, even if it was only minutes that separated us. He always stood by my side or protected me, especially when it became apparent I didn’t fit the role I was assigned at birth. Jude was there as I came into myself, quick to shut down any naysayers who thought I dressed too femme. He had been on the football team and his teammates learned fast that he wasn’t going to put up with any homophobic or transphobic bullshit. Jude was the best ally sibling a nonbinary person like me could hope for.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t hear an ‘I-told-you-so’ or that he wouldn’t offer to drive out here in the middle of the night to rescue me. I didn’t want to be rescued. Not by him. And I’d been proud of myself for arranging this whole thing all on my own. I needed to do something for myself after being at the whim of my manager and the tour for the last few months. If only I hadn’t royally fucked it all up. Sigh .
I wouldn’t mind being rescued by Theodore, though. Absurd thought, considering I knew nothing about him, except he made beautiful furniture and was nice enough not to kick me out. It didn’t hurt that his arms looked strong enough to lift me easily, which wasn’t always the case, given my height. Nothing like a good consensual manhandling. I didn’t hate the way I’d caught him watching me, either. It didn’t feel predatory, or investigative, more... surprised appreciation perhaps.
With a million thoughts in my head and no city sounds to absorb them, it was a long night. I tossed and turned until the sun’s light peaked through the windows. I grumbled as I tossed the blankets aside, giving up on trying to rest. One early morning wouldn’t kill me. I was meant to have a month off, so I could catch up on sleep later, but I couldn’t stay in bed, pretending to sleep any longer.
Surprisingly, the scent of coffee hit my nose, and I wondered if it was later than I thought. Did the sun rise later in the mountains? I had no idea. But the aroma beckoned to me. I stuffed my feet into my fuzzy slippers and grabbed my cardigan, shivering when the cool air hit me. In front of the mirror, I took the hair band out of my hair and brushed through my chaotic mess. I was half-tempted to put on a light layer of makeup before seeing Theodore, to go for the whole ‘ I-woke-up-this-way’ vibe, but I was so tired, I doubted I would be able to do a clean line of black above my eyes without an infusion of caffeine first.
Welp... this was temporary. I didn’t have to impress the cabin’s owner, even if I really wanted to. I drew in a deep breath to bolster myself and opened the bedroom door. The couch was empty except for a blanket thrown over the back of it. The man wasn’t in the kitchen, but a coffee mug sat on the counter near the coffeemaker. Beside it was a note telling me to help myself to the milk and sugar if I needed it. I did. Coffee was a life source, but it needed to be sweet and creamy to be able to enjoy it.
The note made me smile. It was a glimpse of the thoughtful nature of the man whose home I’d crashed. He’d been quiet, and perhaps a little distant, since our first interaction, like when he offered to make me something to eat. I came out to find the sandwich on the table, but he was gone. I’d peeked outside to see if I could find him, but the only thing I saw was the barn. I ate by myself, wondering what he was up to. Thoughtful... but aloof. Of course, his aloofness only made me more curious. Who was this man? Did he really live alone? Did he live here all year long?
Alas, no mysteries of the universe would be solved before coffee. I added milk and sugar until it was a lovely tan color and took the first sip. A sigh of relief slipped out of me as the sweet warmth hit the back of my throat.
I leaned against the counter, holding my mug close to my face, breathing in the aroma. It was then I noticed movement outside. There was a sliding door from the kitchen that led to a porch. It had been in the photos online, one of the major selling points that caught my eye. Two Adirondack chairs sat with a stunning view over the mountain. One of those chairs was currently occupied by the very mystery man I was eager to know more about. He was fiddling with something in his hands. With another sip of coffee, I walked toward the door and slid it open.
Theodore wore a beanie and a flannel jacket, while still wearing his pajama pants. Why was that combination so sexy? His eyes flicked up to look at me. There was a strange sort of pleased surprise as he took in my sleepy appearance. I didn’t know if he forgot I was here, or what I looked like, or maybe was taken aback at being interrupted.
He didn’t say anything, simply watched me. So I took the initiative. “Good morning. Do you mind if I join you? If you’d prefer to be alone, I completely understand and won’t be offended at all.”
Theodore shook his head. “Good morning. No, you can join me.”
All right. Well, that was something, at least. I closed the glass door behind me and crossed in front of him to take the chair at his side. The cold morning air hit me, and I shuddered, clutching my thin sweater around me.
The man at my side got up immediately and went into the house. I let out a heavy sigh. Welp, I guess he didn’t want my company, and now I felt bad for making him uncomfortable. Another involuntary shiver rolled through me, making me wish I had simply stayed inside and left him to it. But then he came back, holding a blanket.
“Here,” he offered. I took the blanket gratefully, wrapping it around my shoulders to keep my hands free for my coffee. He sat beside me again without saying anything. Okay . Thoughtful again, but quiet.
I took a sip of coffee and whispered, “Thank you,” not wanting to disturb the serenity. He gave a short nod, focusing on something in his hands. I looked out over the view. Trees as far as you could see. The hill sloped down from his back porch, so we could see the tops of the trees below us. It really felt like we were in our own world. There was a twitter of birds in the distance, and somewhere nearby, I thought I could hear the trickling of a creek or some sort of water. It was picturesque, like being in a painting.
“Wow. This view is really breathtaking.”
Theodore hummed in his throat. “It was the reason I purchased this cabin.”
“I can see why. It was what caught my attention on the rental site, too, but the photos can’t compare. I was... traveling recently, and we were going through Arizona, so we decided to stop at the Meteor Crater. And in a picture, it’s just like... yup, that’s a hole, but seeing it in person and the enormity of it, it’s impossible to wrap your head around. And out there, it’s not just trees, it’s... wow, I can’t even describe it.” Shut up, Onyx ! Way to word vomit all over a peaceful morning.
He looked over at me with a crooked smile and a look of awe in his eyes. I didn’t know what I expected him to say, if he was wishing I would shut up as much as I was, but he simply responded, “Yup.”
I took the answer to mean he didn’t mind my company, but wasn’t interested in conversation. Drinking my coffee, I sat in an almost contented quiet. It could have been a perfectly relaxing morning, enjoying the view, if it weren’t for the man at my side. I noticed his hands moving again, and this time I looked more intently to see what he was doing. He had a small knife in one hand and a chunk of something in the other. It seemed he was cutting bits off from the chunk. And apparently, I had both enough coffee and not enough sleep to keep my mouth closed.
“What are you doing?”
“Whittling.”
Whittling? Did people really do that? I thought that was just something shown in old-timey movies. “Really? What are you making?”
He handed the block to me. It clearly had a long, skinny neck, and the beginnings of a body shape. “Oh my God! Is it a giraffe?”
Theodore nodded. “It is.”
“That’s amazing! Is that something you do often... whittle?”
“I do.” He went back to it, nicking out small bits of wood with the knife without hesitation. The movements seemed automatic. It was fascinating to watch. I should have left him alone to continue working on it, but my mouth had other ideas.
“Is it like a hobby? Do you make other things besides giraffes?” I chastised myself again, but I was curious. It was more than that, though. He'd been more talkative when I first showed up, but something switched after I moved my luggage into his room. Was my presence bothering him more than he was letting on? If it was, my pestering probably wouldn't help.
Theodore shifted in his seat to face me, likely resolved to the fact that I was still here. “It started out that way. And I make a wide range of things.”
He had the sexiest bit of gray sprinkled through his short beard, and his eyes were a warm brown. There was a hint of a shadow behind them, but they were eyes you could get lost in. “If it started out as a hobby, what is it now?”
His lips pursed in thought as if he were trying to figure out what kind of answer to give. I jumped in before he could say anything. “Never mind. Just ignore me. You were out here enjoying a perfectly quiet morning before I crashed in and interrupted.”
“You're not interrupting. I'm just, uh, not used to making conversation, especially here.”
“So, I should just shut my mouth and appreciate the wonder.” It was what I'd been telling myself, anyway.
Theodore sucked on his teeth. “That's not what I meant.”
I mimed zipping my lips and tossing the key into the woods.
A soft chuckle sounded from him, and he leaned back, carving the giraffe. We sat in silence for a few minutes, and it was nice, truly. I wanted somewhere to relax and get away from the hustle and bustle, and this was as far removed from the city as it could get. I drank my coffee and observed nature while he transformed the chunk of wood in his hands. It was the kind of companionable quiet I could get used to, so it surprised me when he broke the silence.
“I sell them.”
Tucking one leg beneath me, I twisted in the wooden chair to face him. It was so out of the blue it took me a second to catch on, but he held the giraffe up to clue me in. “You do? That's fascinating. Where? Do you have a shop? We passed by the cutest stretch of stores on our way up here. I was thinking I might like to go into town at some point and check them out.”
“Not a shop. Not really.”
Okaaay . Cryptic. Would he offer more information freely, or would I have to pursue it? Theodore folded the knife closed and grabbed another tool off the small table beside him. It had a thick wooden handle, but the knife part had a much thinner blade with a fine point. I watched as he began to notch out more precise details.
“What does a ‘ not a shop’ look like for you?”
“Uh... I go to a farmer's market down the hill.”
My lips tugged up at the idea of him at a farmer's market. I wouldn't have thought him the type upon first impression. I imagined him more like a lumberjack, ripping logs apart with his bare hands. Instead, here he was, creating a dainty little figurine. “How quaint.”
“It's not only for farmers, though. I don’t grow, I carve.” A hint of red spread behind his facial hair, making him look both sexy and unintentionally charming. I didn't want to draw attention to it, glad to have him talking more than he had since I first arrived. He had this deep, raspy voice that made me want to curl up in his lap and feel it roll over me.
Just a man, living alone in the mountains, carving wooden animals. It sounded simple and yet... nice. “So you whittle and take your animals to the market? That's so cute, I love that.”
Theodore met my gaze and shared a soft smile briefly. He was ruggedly handsome, and I really didn’t hate the way he looked at me. I wondered if he was even aware of the way his eyes drifted to my lips, even though they were no longer painted red. Sadly, the connection didn't last long. He looked back down at the wood in his hands. It was surprising to see how much progress he’d made on it in such a short time. The giraffe was really taking shape.
The quiet returned, as though the mountain man had used up all his energy for words, and maybe he had. He did say he wasn’t used to conversation. That was okay. I found myself enjoying the company even without hearing that lovely voice of his. As I stared out over the world, my fingers started itching to write. It was why I had come in the first place, hoping nature would bring me inspiration. It usually did, but something about Theodore was giving me inspo, too. With a voice like his, I wondered if he ever sang. I bet he would sound amazing; a rich, complex sound, maybe even a little sad and soulful.
My hand began tapping out a beat on my leg as notes began to form in my mind. I didn’t bring a notebook outside with me to write it down, and I needed to before I lost it. Not wanting to leave the serene surroundings, but needing to chase the music, I stood and handed him the blanket. “Thank you for the coffee, Theodore, and the chat. If you'll excuse me, I need to work on something.”
He nodded and almost looked relieved not to have to carry a conversation any longer. I walked into the cabin with a grin stretched across my face, thinking of his brief answers and the effort it seemed to be for him. That he had made the effort when he didn't have to was endearing as hell.
The grin might also have been because of the rush of creativity I was feeling. Lately, it had been a huge struggle to try to get in the right headspace for writing. The tour had taken a lot out of me and the well was dry. But now, one awkward yet relaxed morning with Theodore, surrounded by pine trees and accompanied by birds, I felt the well begin to fill.
My notebooks were still packed away, so I rushed to the bedroom and moved things around until I found my backpack. It contained my laptop, a couple of notebooks, enough pens to get me through a cataclysmic pen -demic, and a supply of suckers and snacks. It was my version of a go-bag with everything I needed for when I hunkered down to write somewhere. Leaving the laptop, I grabbed a glittery notebook and two pens.
I hopped on the bed, putting the pillow up against the headboard, and leaned back. My legs were bent at the knee, so I could brace my notebook on them while I wrote.
“Dah, dah, do-doot-do-do-do.” I made quick notes with the melody in my head on one page to get them out while they were so clear. It wasn’t a full song, but it was a solid riff that I could incorporate as the music came together.
With my eyes shut, I envisioned Theodore’s hands working over the wood, and words began to come. They didn’t always come out in order, and I often had to play with them to make them follow the pattern I wanted, to make them rhyme, or to match the beat, but getting them out was the first step.
I felt the high I’d been missing as my hand flew across the page, filling it, and continuing onto the next one. I didn’t know how long it had been, but at one point I looked up to find Theodore leaning in the door frame, watching me in that quiet awe he seemed to have. He straightened when he noticed he’d been caught.
“I knocked, but you didn’t answer. I wasn’t expecting to see you there.” His eyes darted away.
I waved it off. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was in my own little world over here. But you can come in.”
He smacked his lips and pushed away from the door frame. “Sorry, I just need to change.”
A smile stretched my lips. “You are totally fine. This is your room, anyway. You have nothing to be sorry about. And I can go sit somewhere else if you need the space. I just got caught up.”
Theodore shook his head. “No. Stay. I’ll only be a minute.”
“Thanks.” I looked around at the mess I’d made in the room. Suitcases moved around, clothes laid out, my hairbrush on his dresser. I had a tendency to explode out of my luggage every time I went somewhere. “Um... about the mess... I can clean it up.”
“It’s fine.” He wove around my suitcases, his eyes catching on my hairbrush when he got to his dresser, making me feel like I should repack everything. He was angled away from me, but from the side, I thought I saw his lip pull up at the corner, though it was possible I imagined it.
Within minutes he was in and out of the bathroom, having changed into jeans and another plain tee, making me shiver from both the chill and the sight of him. The man wore a T-shirt like a dream, and those jeans— fuck me —hugged all the right places. Theodore made for a great distraction, one I would happily lose focus for, so it was probably a good thing when he waved awkwardly and left me behind.
I allowed myself two minutes to dwell on the image of him. Two minutes to replay every sumptuous inch of him, especially those arms that stretched the limits of the shirt sleeves. Damn, he fine ! Okay, two minutes over. Time to get back to work.