Chapter 5
CHARLOTTE
Lovely. Just fucking lovely.
It’s half-past six in the evening. I end the call with my real estate agent and thunk my head against the hallway wall. Wi-Fi and heart won’t fix this situation. Not even an ice queen with three assistants and a full legal team can untangle this mess.
From the kitchen, I hear the clinking of dog food against metal.
At Kez’s command, Ember’s happy crunching noises follow.
I haven’t eaten all day except for half a breakfast burrito almost ten hours ago.
I should take a bite of something halfway nutritious, but the last thing I’m in the mood for is food.
My phone screen lights up with another call.
It’s mom. An exasperated sigh slips from my lips.
I silence it. Hearing my parents call my six-figure photography business a “hobby” for the hundredth time isn’t on today’s agenda.
Certainly not while my business is at the center of a property law nightmare before Christmas.
I push off the wall and step back into the kitchen.
Ember appears to be the happiest in the room, belly full and prancing around with a fuzzy sock in her mouth.
Kez is leaning against the counter, her face vacant.
She’s resting the edge of her phone firmly against her forehead, brows pinched, obviously in deep thought. When she looks up, we lock eyes.
“Yours say the same thing?” I ask and sit on the island stool.
“Yeah.” She nods and exhales through her nose. “Something about mixed up county lines and a clause.”
I fix my gaze out the window to hide the lump in my throat. A beautiful pitch black with stars for miles. So much for my plan to enjoy peaceful evenings by the fire.
I swipe to unlock my phone and reread the email of the contract page my agent forwarded for the thousandth time. This time, I read it aloud.
“Per the clause, neither party may remove the other, change access or vacate the property without forfeiting all occupancy rights. This is ridiculous,” I mutter and think for a second.
Vacate the property. Not move out. Simply crossing the boundary marker?
One step over, and it’s done. All rights forfeited. Lovely.
“It’s simple really,” Kez states and points toward the white property line outside. “Just step over and leave. Go buy a different cabin. Clearly you can afford it. Miss Thirty-thousand Dollar Bid.” She flashes a look that’s half smug, half menacing.
“Of course, you were the other bidder.” I’m not a competitive person, but something about Kezia Langston always brings the fighting spirit out of me. The bedroom was no different. Heat crawls up my neck. “I should’ve added 5k for a little razzle dazzle.” I mock her with spirit fingers.
“Who the hell jumps thirty grand in one go? Or did your daddy Mayor pull some strings?” Kez snaps.
I scoff a laugh. She’s incorrigible. “I’m a woman with a business and a dream and a damn good credit score.”
“Right. Well, this is my cabin. You can leave.” Kez crosses her arms, prompting me to do the same. She pushes off the counter edge and opens the sliding double doors to let Ember outside.
“What are you going to do if I don’t?” I raise a brow. “Arrest me?”
Our eyes lock. Is that a smirk? She closes the distance, fire in her eyes. She leans in, her gaze lands on my lips and back up. “You’d like that too much.”
My heart thumps against my chest. “Love to see you try.”
God. We’re flirting again. I can’t help myself with her.
She lifts a brow and steps back, clicking her tongue. “Do you remember how my family used to leave every Christmas? How my dad’s favorite place was the mountains?”
My stomach drops when she gestures around the room.
“This is the cabin. My dad taught me how to fish in that pond while my mom watched. I bet the third door on the right still sticks. Two years ago, before my dad passed, my family would sit right here and fight over spoons during game nights at this exact spot.” Kez slaps both palms against the kitchen island and squares her shoulders toward me.
“Some of the last memories I have with him were here. So, no,” she growls, chin trembling. “I’m not leaving.”
“I didn’t know,” I say, voice small.
Guilt pierces through my annoyance. This place is her history. Her family. Good times with her dad. But it’s my fresh start. My future. Not just mine, but Rory’s too.
I shove the emotion aside and force a deadpan face. “I guess we’re stuck together.”
“Looks like.” Her exhale is sharp. “I’m sorry, but your little picture book business isn’t as important as my family memories.”
“Excuse me?” My head snaps up. I can’t believe the words that came out of her stupidly attractive mouth. Heat flashes through my veins. I take four steps toward her sitting on the corner stool. I bend to her level, close enough that our faces are inches apart. “Oh. So, now you want to stay?”
The room freezes. Even adorable, clueless Ember stops chewing. About now, I’d like to take the sock from inside the dog toy and shove it down Kez’s throat.
Her gaze drifts to my lips and back up. Our eyes hold. “I never wanted to leave.”
We pause. I never wanted that either. A familiar tingle shudders through my stomach, then moves south. I meet her dark, hungry eyes, pulling me closer. Before I stop myself, I lean in—
My phone rings. I flinch.
I tear my eyes away from Kez and see Rory’s name flash across the screen. Kez’s warm hand on mine catches me off guard, reminding me of her touch I used to crave.
“Charlotte—,” she begins.
“Don’t.” I pull away. “We are not doing this again.”
I march from the room. I feel the weight of Kez’s gaze follow me until I’m out of sight. Down the hall, I shut the bedroom door softly behind me and toss my jacket on the chair next to her duffle bag. I answer the call and skip the pleasantries.
“My ex is here.”
Rory sounds genuinely perplexed. “What do you mean your ex is in our cabin? Why is Eli—”
“No,” I cut her off, lowering my voice and carefully listen for noises outside the room. I hear nothing, so I sit at the foot of the bed and let out the breath I’ve been holding. “The other one. Kezia.”
“Oh.” The line goes quiet. Then louder, “Oh snap.” She’s probably stress rocking on my behalf. “Undoubtedly, she’s the reason you stay single and masturbate. I’m sorry, the reason you’ve chosen ‘intentional celibacy’. This is bad.”
I ignore the last part, instead filling her in on everything that transpired today.
How the tow company refused to provide an ETA.
The county line disaster, the ridiculous clause, and finally the kitchen standoff with Kez.
When I get to the part about this being her family’s yearly holiday rental, she gasps.
“That’s the same cabin she used to talk about when y’all were kids?” Rory mirrors my words back to me.
“I feel terrible. Especially given it was her father’s favorite place.” I twiddle my fingers together. “But I can’t leave, Rory.” My voice gets small. “I won’t.”
“We can fix this, business partner. Just stay put. I’ll be back before you know it,” she yells, voice distant from the phone.
A zipper races in the background. I can picture clothes flung everywhere as she frantically packs the night before her flight, like she always does. Wait. Did she just say business partner?
Despite the chaos, my lips curl upward into a smile. “You’ve made your decision?”
“Is my generational wealth mission a joke to you? I was always going to say yes. I just wanted you to make more cookies.” I can’t help but laugh despite everything.
Her tone turns serious. “Anyway. First, you’re not a terrible person.
You purchased the cabin for our business fair and square.
Sort of. You know what I mean. Second, Kez ghosted you for years.
You don’t owe her a damn thing.” She pauses.
“And also…you’re stuck together with what sounds like a fuck ton of unresolved sexual tension and tragic sapphic history I’ve only dreamed about. Use it to get what you want.”
Is this supposed to be making me feel better? “I will not manipulate—”
Rory shushes me. “Charlotte, I’m not saying that.
You’re a boudoir photographer. You’ve literally built an entire business on helping women harness their power and walk into rooms like they own them.
Don’t forget who you are just because Kez is there.
Show her what she’s been missing and snatch our cabin in the process.
” She’s silent for a moment. “I just Googled her. Damn. That woman is mighty fine in a uniform.”
I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen it but can only imagine. “I have no idea how I’m going to solve this situation without getting hurt. Again.”
Deep down, hurting Kez isn’t what I want either. Regardless of our messy past from a decade ago.
“You’re telling me you can’t handle one very hot flustered K-9 officer?” Rory demands.
I think back to Kez and I’s moment in the kitchen, her lips inches from mine. Butterflies erupt in my belly just thinking about the way she looks at me.
Rory’s voice perks up. “TL;DR: Our business is at stake. Use your powers for good.”
“Rory!” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. No. Actually, I can. This is coming from someone whose ex-wife tried to take the house, her airline miles and even knocked over the 1000-piece puzzle she had nearly finished. I shouldn’t be surprised.
“Also, can I document this on TikTok?”
“Absolutely not. There’s enough queer women drama there already,” I say. I don’t care how good exposure would be for business, it’s not worth the trouble. “I hope you felt that eye roll.”
She makes a contemplative noise. “I’ll ask again later.”
“Go pack.” I scoff a laugh and shake my head. “Safe travels. Don’t forget your passport.”
“Already in my fanny pack. Which is—,” Rory replies, then pauses. There’s a thud. Likely a suitcase hitting the floor. More zipping noises. “Got it. Kisses.”
The line disconnects. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, then fall back until the mattress catches me. Exhaustion etches through every cell of my body. My phone lights up. I lift it from my stomach and glance at a text from Rory.
Rory
Remember. You’re Charlotte Fucking Harrington.
I clamp my eyes shut. Easy for her to say.
I’m the one stuck in a cabin with a kaleidoscope of memories of the woman who got away.
She’s right though. This isn’t just about me and Kez.
It’s about Bed & Boudoir and helping women.
I built this business from nothing. And now I’m ready to start a new chapter with a business partner.
Generational wealth. A legacy. I can’t let nostalgia cloud my judgement.
Perhaps a walk around the property with my camera tomorrow will help me think clearly. I need fresh air and wildlife shots—the kind I took in high school, back when photography was just a hobby.
Tomorrow, I’ll be Charlotte fucking Harrington. Tonight, I’m just Charlotte. Exhausted. Confused. And a little horny. Trapped with Kezia Langston. And definitely not thinking about her lips. Eyelids growing heavier, I roll onto my side and hope sleep claims me before I can lie to myself again.