Chapter 2
two
LENA
I wake up to the cold, a chill that’s settled into my bones despite the fire Cade helped me with last night. The cabin is quiet, too quiet, and I’m reminded once again how far I am from the city, from everything I know. I rub my arms, trying to chase away the cold, but it’s not just the temperature that has me feeling off. It’s the emptiness, the loneliness of this place. I came here to escape, to find some kind of peace, but now I’m starting to wonder if I made a mistake.
I step outside, the cold air biting at my skin. The woodpile is still there, the axe leaning against it, and I know I need to start the day, to prove to myself that I can do this. But before I can even pick up the axe, I hear footsteps crunching in the leaves. I turn around, and there’s Cade, striding toward me like he owns the place.
“Morning,” he says, his voice gruff as usual.
“Morning,” I reply, trying to keep my tone neutral. But it’s hard when he’s looking at me like that, like he can see right through me. Like he knows exactly how lost I feel out here.
“So, what brings you out here anyways?” he asks, surprising me. He doesn’t seem the type to make small talk, and the question catches me off guard.
“I—” I hesitate, not sure how much to share. But something about his gaze makes me want to open up, to tell him the truth. “I needed to get away,” I finally say. “From the city, from my job, from everything. My uncle left me this cabin in his will, and I thought... I thought maybe I could find some peace out here.”
Cade nods, like he understands more than he’s letting on. “City life too much for you?”
I shrug, trying to downplay it. “Something like that. It just feel like there should be more to life than working on a laptop in an apartment I can hardly afford ... I thought maybe a change of scenery would help me figure out what I really want.”
“And has it?” he asks, his eyes locking onto mine.
I swallow, feeling the weight of his gaze. “I don’t know yet. It’s... only been one day. It is for sure a lot quieter. But I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.”
He studies me for a moment, his gaze intense. “You’ll get used to it. Or you won’t. Either way, you’ll figure it out.”
There’s something in his tone, something that makes me think he’s talking about more than just being alone in a cabin. “What about you?” I ask, needing to shift the focus off myself. “Why do you live out here?”
Cade’s expression hardens, and for a moment, I think he’s not going to answer. But then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I came out here to get away too,” he admits. “I used to live in the city, had a life there, but it wasn’t for me. Too much noise, too many people. I needed space, quiet. My family wasn’t too happy about it, but I needed to be somewhere I could think. That was six months ago.”
“And you found that here?” I ask, genuinely curious.
He nods. “Yeah. Out here, it’s just me and the land. No distractions, no complications. It’s... peaceful.”
Peaceful. That’s the word I’ve been searching for, the feeling I’ve been hoping to find. But looking at Cade, I realize there’s more to his story, more to why he’s out here, alone. “Do you ever miss it?” I ask softly. “The city, I mean?”
He hesitates, then shakes his head. “Not really. There are things I miss, sure, but not enough to go back. This is where I belong.”
There’s a finality in his words, a certainty that I envy. He knows who he is, what he wants. And I’m still trying to figure that out. “Must be nice,” I murmur, half to myself.
Cade’s eyes soften, just a fraction, and he steps even closer. “It’s not about where you are, Lena. It’s about finding your place, wherever that is.”
His words hit me deep, and I nod, feeling a lump rise in my throat. I don’t know if this is my place, but something about the way Cade is looking at me, the way he’s standing so close, makes me think maybe I could find it here. Maybe I could find it with him.
But before I can say anything else, Cade’s gaze shifts, and his expression hardens again. “Storm’s coming,” he says, his tone all business now. “You’re not gonna make it through the night if you don’t let me help you.”
I blink, the sudden change in tone throwing me off. “I can handle it,” I say, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know they’re not true. I’m not ready for a storm, not out here, not alone.
Cade raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You need more wood, and you need it fast. Let me help.”
There’s no point in arguing, not when he’s right. And despite my stubbornness, I can’t help but feel a tiny flicker of relief. “Fine,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “But I don’t need you to take care of me.”
He smirks, and damn if that doesn’t make my heart skip a beat. “Sure you don’t,” he says, turning to grab the axe. “But I’m gonna do it anyway.”
CADE
She’s here to escape, just like I was. But she doesn’t belong here, not yet at least. She’s got no idea what she’s doing, and it frustrates the hell out of me. But damn if it doesn’t also turn me on.
The way she looked at me when she talked about the city, about being underwhelmed by it all... it’s like she was talking about me too. Like she saw something in me that she understands.
Now, here I am, standing in front of her, my body reacting to her in ways I haven’t ever felt. Her curves, the way her breath catches when I get too close—it’s driving me crazy.
My cock’s been hard since I first saw her, and it’s taking everything I have not to drag her into my arms and show her just how warm I can make her.
But I can’t. I won’t. She’s here to find peace, and I’m not about to complicate that with whatever this is between us. Still, when she talks about being alone, about not knowing if she can handle it... fuck, I want to tell her she doesn’t have to be. That I could be there, that I could help her find what she’s looking for.
But I don’t. Instead, I focus on the task at hand, on the storm that’s coming. I know she’s not ready for it, not on her own. And the thought of her freezing out here, struggling through the night without help, twists something deep inside me. I can’t let that happen, even if it means getting closer to her than I should.
I grab the axe and swing it with ease. The log splits cleanly, and I glance over at her, watching as she stares at me with those wide eyes. She’s trying to be strong, trying to prove she can handle this, but I can see the doubt in her eyes. She’s scared, and I can’t blame her. But I won’t let her fail, not out here.
She tries to argue, tries to tell me she doesn’t need me, but I can hear the uncertainty in her voice. “Sure you don’t,” I say with a smirk, knowing damn well she does. “But I’m gonna do it anyway.”
I split another log, the sound echoing in the cold air. She watches me, and I can feel her eyes on me, feel the heat of her gaze as it travels over my body. My cock twitches, hardening even more, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from reaching out and pulling her against me. She’s too close, too damn tempting.
But I focus on the wood, on getting her what she needs to survive the night. Because that’s all this is—survival. It has to be. Even though every instinct in me is screaming to make it more, to take her inside and show her exactly what I’m capable of.
“Storm’s coming in fast,” I say again, more to remind myself than anything. “You’re gonna need all the help you can get.”
She nods, finally accepting what I’ve been saying all along. But there’s something in her eyes, something that tells me this isn’t over. Not by a long shot. She watches me, and I can feel the heat of her gaze as it travels over my body.
When the last log is split, I load them into a stack by her door, giving her what she’ll need to keep the fire going through the night. But I can’t stop thinking about what else she might need—what else I could give her if I let myself. The thought gnaws at me as I watch her from the corner of my eye, her breath fogging in the cold air, her lips parted as if she’s waiting for me to say something, to make a move.
But I don’t. I can’t. Not yet. Not until I know she’s ready, and maybe not even then.
“There,” I say, stepping back and wiping my hands on my jeans. “That should keep you warm.”
She looks at the stack of wood, then back at me, her expression unreadable. “Thank you,” she says softly, but there’s something more in her voice, something that makes my chest tighten.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. If I do, I might say something I can’t take back, something that will change everything.
“I’ll see you around,” I say, turning to leave before I do something stupid, like pull her into my arms and kiss her until neither of us can breathe.
But as I walk away, I can feel her eyes on me, and it takes everything I have to keep moving, to put distance between us.
Because I know that if I turn around, if I let myself get any closer, I won’t be able to walk away again.
And I’m not sure either of us is ready for what comes next.