Chapter 4
Chapter Four
LEXI
The long driveway definitely isn’t made for SUVs, but since it’s dry, I make my way slowly up the graveled, leafy road that leads to the cabin.
I have to admit, it’s pretty out here in the wilderness.
I had a pleasant drive, once we were off the freeway.
Mr. Snuggles traveled without complaint.
He can be a little particular when we’re in the car, but once we're through the worst of the traffic, he settled down in his bed and went to sleep.
I stopped at the one Lake Haven convenience store, aptly named Haven Quick Pick.
It sells overpriced caviar, cheese and chicken salad — in that order — with condiments to die for, fruit so fresh it could run out of there, and organic crusty bread that will set me back a week on the treadmill.
I didn’t care. I loaded up. This weekend is about indulgence of the finer things, and I deserve this. I’ve worked my butt off.
I grabbed a bottle of roséon the way out to have with the fresh fish I bought for dinner, along with a bouquet of butter lettuce that was begging to be bagged.
Mr. Snuggles was absolutely no help with the GPS, so I had to navigate and fend him off from trying to steal my chicken salad while driving.
Eventually, we found the address.
As we trundle up the steep hill, a vision of the lake comes into view.
It’s spectacular. Chills run over my skin when I keep climbing and more of the wilderness appears before me, and it’s a good kind of chill.
I’m a gal who likes to feel the vibes wherever I go.
I can kind of sense when things feel off, and when they’re vibing.
Very good choice, Ali. Gold stars for you.
It’s a pity she got sick, but at least she has her silver fox Tristan making her chicken noodle soup at home.
He’s a sweetheart, and he’ll take good care of her.
And in the meantime, I get to enjoy this place all to myself for the weekend.
When the cabin comes into view, it’s everything I imagined it would be.
Small, quaint, and literally built of wood.
I can’t help but squeal because while I’m a city girl at heart, I’ve always wanted a getaway in the mountains.
Somewhere quiet and secluded. Albeit, in my fantasy that may have included a hot, rugged, mountain man with too much to say for himself.
Better still, he’s the maintenance guy for the cabin who just happens to come by and chop wood for me when I’m all out, and maybe even light the fire.
Inevitably, the power goes out, and we’re stranded for days because there’s a wild storm and we can’t possibly leave.
Nobody can get in or out. Blame my romance books.
It’s not my fault. Ali did say there could be rain this weekend, so I can always pretend.
I pull up in front of the cabin and breathe a sigh of relief as I look up at the quaint wooden structure. I’m glad I stocked up with goods, because I don’t plan on going back into town until tomorrow for the viewing.
The realtor, Melinda Malone, seems chirpy and has sent me all of the information.
Our client is making the trip over tomorrow morning.
I phoned Monica before I left the office to explain I’d be the one meeting her at the house, even though I know for a fact Ali had already texted her to tell her she was sick.
The private viewing will be at eleven. Monica Chase is a very popular soap opera actress, and she just got her first big movie role.
Yes, she’s particular, and she keeps us on our toes, but she’s also spending a lot of money on a second home.
It’s a huge purchase. Monica has always been nice to me, in fact, I like her no nonsense attitude.
So if giving it to people straight between the eyes is considered rude, or bitchy, sign me up.
I grab Mr. Snuggles off the passenger seat, attaching his lead to his collar just in case, I lift him out and he meows gratefully. He needs a good stretch.
“Time for a pee, little guy,” I sing. I’ve only been here for a few minutes, and already I feel like the city grit is well and truly out of my hair.
Normally, I don’t follow my cat around on a lead, but he can be skittish, so considering we’re in a new place, I’m not going to risk letting him off in case he runs into the bush, never to be seen again.
They say cats are carnivores, and can easily fend for themselves in the wild, but whoever said that hasn’t met my cat.
He’s demanding, at best, and while I adore him, he’ll never be shy in telling me his dinner isn’t as fresh as he’d like.
Mr. Snuggles also doesn’t eat anything out of a can.
I’m not kidding. He’ll share my fish for dinner, and hopefully that’ll keep him sated until the morning. Heaven help us.
Lucky for me, he does his business quickly, and I venture toward the locked box on the outside of the patio containing the key. I love Airbnb just for the self-check-in option alone. You don’t even have to see your host if you don’t want to.
The little safe opens, and I pull the key out.
The enclosed porch has a small gate at the side that isn’t locked, but the front door is.
I let myself in with the key, singing a little tune to Mr. Snuggles as he meows in my ear.
Once inside, I’ll let him run free so he can get comfortable with his surroundings; then I’ll trudge back to my SUV and grab all my stuff, as well as his cat bed and scratching post.
Once inside, I’m greeted with a large, open plan kitchen/dining/lounge combo. You know you’re in the sticks when there’s a moose head mounted on the wall, thankfully, it’s one made out of wood.
“Lovely,” I say to myself with a little satisfied smile, and I haven’t even seen the rest of the cabin yet. I let Mr. Snuggles off and he immediately darts away.
Crap. I should’ve made sure the other rooms were closed first, and that he can’t get out the back door. “Here, kitty kitty.”
Of course, my cat has been known to ignore the sound of his own name on more than one occasion.
“Mr. Snuggles?” I call out. The little shit darts across the hall and I miss him by a fraction of an inch. He pushes his way into what appears to be the bathroom and several things happen simultaneously.
I notice the strewn-out sweats just as I step over them, which is odd in itself, and at the same time my hand reaches the open door, Mr. Snuggles dives inside.
Hot steam billows, and the scent of mint, cedar wood and something spicy hits me in the face.
Before I can register there’s someone in the shower, our eyes meet through the glass and I freeze.
It kind of all happens in slow motion, the realization smacking me in the face.
What the hell?
Staring at me, buck naked as one usually is in the shower, one hand on his massive chest, the other trying to haplessly cover his massive dick, is a set of sapphire blue eyes. I stare back, and it’s like we’re both frozen in time.
Joshua Lucas.
I feel a silent scream coming on, but before any words leave my mouth, Mr. Snuggles dives into the open shower and all hell breaks loose.
“Mr. Snuggles!” I yelp.
He’s not a fan of water, but he’s clearly confused, as am I.
What the hell is Joshua Lucas doing in the shower of my cabin? Am I hallucinating?
I know I asked for a fantasy to come true, but this is closer to home than I expected.
I tear my gaze from the monster in his hand just in time to see him shriek when Mr. Snuggles darts around the shower like a lunatic, trying to find his way out.
Josh is halfway through soaping himself up, when he rubs body wash in his eyes.
I watch in horror as Mr. Snuggles gets sprayed with the water and latches onto Joshua’s knee in a frenzy of howling that could wake the dead.
Joshua frantically tries to rub soap out of his eyes while bouncing around the shower like a wild coyote with my cat attached to his body. It’s like a circus in there.
And I just stand there with my hands covering my mouth in disbelief.
Take action, you jerk!
I don’t know what possesses me, but when my brain finally begins to work again, I reach into the open shower in an attempt to pull my cat from Joshua’s leg.
I grab Mr. Snuggles, my hand grazing Joshua’s dick as I pull my cat off him, leaving claw marks in his skin that would make Wolverine proud.
Meanwhile, water pours down on me, drenching my sixty-dollar blow dry, clothes, new shoes and Mr. Snuggles himself.
He screeches like a banshee, jumping out of my arms and flees out of the stall like his ass is on fire.
I’m left standing in the shower, fully clothed, with my crush, Joshua Lucas, howling because my cat just left claw marks on his skin and he’s now bleeding.
He has tattoos. This damn man has ink across his chest and his back. The swirling patterns with a firebreathing dragon, roses and thorns, pops of color drawing my eye that all melt into one huge piece that’s intricate, beautiful and… I’m staring.
“Alexis?” One of his eyes is still closed because of the soap streaming down his face.
“Joshie?” I stammer. He towers over me like the Adonis he is.
“W-what are you doing here?”
“Umm, I… uh… What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
A second passes before either of us say anything, then he cups his dick with both hands now — yes, it takes both hands — and politely says, “Could you pass me a towel?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck!
I just barged unannounced into the shower with an unsuspecting Joshua Lucas, and now I’m just standing here like a moron, my mouth opening and closing, but no sound comes out.
EARTH TO brAIN!!!
“Of course, I’m so sorry!” I leap out of the shower like my life depends on it and grab a towel off the rail.
Turning, I stick my arm back in the shower stall, holding the towel out to him.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down. And I don’t mean to look — really, I don’t — but Joshua has his back to me, washing the soap out of his eyes and I get a bird’s eye view of his ass.
If ever there was a perfect set of buns, fresh from the bakery, then he wins the award, hands down.
I hear a throat clear and my eyes bounce back up.
Dark, sexy blue eyes stare down at me. I can’t be sure, but I think I see him smirk.