6. Chapter 5
Marissa
“Want to go inside?” When Marissa heard the odd mix of excitement and nervousness in his tone, she turned her attention away from the cabin and back to him. Uncertainty glimmered in his dark expression. The air was heavy between them as he waited for her response.
“Okay,” she answered, unable to stop the smile that crossed her lips.
The cabin was exactly like the one they’d both dreamed of all those years ago as they lay wrapped in a blanket in the bed of his truck.
Shane had kept his word. He’d built their dream home overlooking the waterfront just as he’d promised he would.
“Wait there.” He flashed a wide-toothed grin before jolting out of the cab. Seconds later, the passenger side door opened, and Shane thrust an outstretched hand toward her in invitation. Reluctantly, Marissa accepted. Her skin burned as his hand closed over hers.
The truck was high off the ground, and she hesitated briefly before sliding down. “You’re okay,” Shane said, using his other hand to grip her waist. “I’m here.”
Marissa’s breath caught in her throat as her breasts skimmed down the length of his hard torso. Her legs threatened to buckle as she struggled to find her footing on the slippery gravel driveway.
“Take your time. I promise you won’t fall. I’ve got you.” The palm of his free hand lingered longer than necessary on the curvature of her spine. It was as if time stood still as she blinked up into his compassionate dark eyes.
“I’m good,” Marissa said, fighting against the urge to kiss him.
A chill sank deep into her bones as he released her.
She desperately wanted to run after him as he neared the front door of the cabin, throw herself into his arms, and let him carry her up to the bedroom to have his way with her.
But she knew better than to let down her guard.
He had too much power over her. One touch and she’d almost lost her sense of reason.
Warmth enveloped her the moment Shane unlocked the front door. The scent of cedar, leather, and a faint trace of wood smoke lingered in the air as he reached inside and felt for the light switch.
“Looks like the power’s out,” he muttered. A lantern had been placed beside the door. He picked it up and quickly flicked it on.
A warm glow welcomed her as she stepped over the threshold.
“It’s breathtaking,” she gasped. She slowly wandered farther inside, her eyes wide as she admired the vaulted ceilings stretched overhead with thick exposed beams crossing above them.
A massive stone fireplace dominated one wall, flanked by built-in bookshelves filled with novels, woodworking books, and framed family photographs.
Shane shrugged out of his soaked jacket. “Every bit of it,” he answered, the pride evident in his tone as he opened the coat closet and held out a hanger. “Let me take your coat.”
“Oh…I’m sorry. I was so busy admiring your workmanship that I didn’t realize that the water from my coat was making a puddle on the floor.” She swiftly removed her coat and slid it onto the hanger. “I hope I didn’t ruin the floor.”
“No worries,” he assured her, taking the hanger from her and placing it on the rack. “That’s what paper towels are for.”
Her eyes darted around the room as she followed him into the kitchen.
Everywhere she looked gleamed with handcrafted perfection.
Wide plank floors. Solid oak cabinets. A dining table made from a single slab of walnut.
Every inch carried the unmistakable mark of the man she’d once loved.
“You built all this?” she whispered. “You really did it.”
“I milled those boards myself,” he said, retrieving a roll of paper towels off the kitchen counter.
“These cabinets…” She touched the artfully painted knobs, each adorned with an elegant shamrock. “This is your artwork, too?”
He nodded.
She turned slowly in a circle. Her fingers brushed approvingly over the smooth wooden surface of each cabinet. “You really did build everything.”
“I had time,” he tossed over his shoulder as he walked back into the living room.
Her chest tightened as she watched him bend down to clean up the small puddle on the floor. Seventeen years ago, on a moonlit beach after graduation, he’d promised her a house. Not a mansion. A home just big enough for the two of them and perhaps a baby or two. He’d kept his promise.
There was even a large picture window overlooking the crashing Atlantic.
Beside it sat an oversized armchair upholstered in soft cream fabric.
Built-in shelves surrounded it from floor to ceiling, overflowing with books.
A brass reading lamp arched overhead. A knitted throw blanket rested neatly across the chair.
Marissa froze. “No...” Her voice barely existed.
Shane followed her gaze as he stood up from the floor. “What?”
She pointed toward the corner. “The reading nook. You remembered.”
His jaw flexed, his voice lowering. “I remember everything. I already told you that.”
She willed herself not to cry, but the tears threatened to spill anyway. “You used to tease me because I’d disappear with a book for hours.”
“You looked happy when you read,” he said, stepping closer. “I told you someday I’d build you one.”
Her hand covered her mouth, a lump forming in her throat. She blinked rapidly, but a tear still escaped down her cheek. He built everything he promised even though she’d never lived here. A loud crack of thunder shook the cabin, causing her to jump.
“You need to get out of those clothes.” She blinked in disbelief, then looked down at the white blouse that clung embarrassingly over every curve.
Shane cleared his throat, interrupting the intensity of the moment. “I mean, I’ll get you something to wear.” He turned on his heel and bounded up the staircase. At the top, he called down. “When the electricity comes back, I’ll put your clothes in the dryer.”