Chapter 5
Cade
This book was good.Great even. So great I’d read so much, my head’s been pounding for the last hour and the letters have started to blur. And my opinion of her work wasn’t because I now knew the author, or the fact the hero in it worked in Search and Rescue, just like me. Her prose and syntax were right on the money, and I got a kick out of the edgy and sarcastic, sometimes comedic byplay between the characters—they were very much like her.
Then again, my praise would probably hold no weight, seeing as the woman in question had yet to come in for lunch after our earlier squabble.
After we’d eaten breakfast—albeit in uncomfortable silence—Aspen had disappeared to her room, then emerged a few minutes later with a pair of leggings and a loose T-shirt that fell off her shoulder, claiming she was heading outside to exercise the dogs and do a bit of yard work.
Throughout the morning, I heard barking, then silence. Eventually there was the telltale sound of an axe meeting wood. The clucking is what got me out of my seat and heading to one of her small windows to see what the hell was going on.
Surrounded by nothing but forest, and a small, pebbled drive of sorts, I caught sight of Aspen heading toward the side of her home, her hair in total disarray and a light sheen of sweat over her brow. The woman grew more appealing in that instant—unafraid of hard, honest work—it was sexy.
Knowingly aware of her avoidance, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
Thank God the cottage wasn’t a large one. I managed to jar my brain some by limping to the kitchen, in search of something to put together to eat. My head was killing me, but I needed food in me before I could take another painkiller. I’d noticed Aspen had left me some on her night table. Maybe I’d have a nap again, but that damn book was hard to put down, hence why I was giving my eyes and head a break—somewhat.
A search through her fridge brought a bowl of eggs, dated for what I guess were the days they’d been gathered. It explained the clucking outside too. Bread, mayo, mustard, fresh-cut lettuce, some leftover roasted chicken were located next. I had the makings of a couple of hefty sandwiches.
It took me a while to get settled on one of her barstools and make two sandwiches; and it took me even longer to hobble to the front door without throwing the food all over the place. The toothpicks on the side counter helped keep everything together, thankfully; and so did the plastic cling wrap over each plate.
Setting Aspen’s lunch and the bottle of water I’d tucked under my arm on the small table that matched her two Adirondack chairs, I managed to hobble toward the side of the porch where I’d last seen the rather enigmatic woman disappear earlier.
“Lunch is ready!” I called.
Out from behind what I discovered was a small chicken coop, popped Aspen’s head.
Her brows scrunched up in apparent confusion. “Did you say lunch?”
I nodded, then shrugged. “I figured I owed you one. Now clean up and come eat before the birds get it.”
With that, I turned and hopped my way back inside to enjoy my meal on the couch with a good book. If I wasn’t mistaken, I was about to see a bit inside Ms. Sexton’s kinky mind in the next few chapters, and I couldn’t wait.
Aspen
He’d made me lunch.
He was hurt and now healing, and while I should have been the good nursemaid, he was the one taking care of me because I’d been such a wuss at confrontation.
I really should go apologize to him and explain why I am the way I am.After all, he hadn’t meant to come off like a judgmental jerk before. He’d said so himself, and then he’d tried to boost my confidence about my writing which he’d earlier called shit.
So that was it. I was going to go eat my lunch—and then talk to Cade.
“Holy shit!” was blurted as soon as I stepped foot inside the door, followed by Cade dropping one of my couch’s throw pillows over his crotch, the book—my book—he was reading, thrown haphazardly on the couch next to him.
“Good shit, huh?” I sassed, then walked by him, smirking as I gave him a moment to collect himself, and headed to put my plate in the kitchen sink to wash later with the breakfast dishes I hadn’t tackled. Lo and behold I had a surprise there too. Turning, I faced my visitor. “You washed the dishes?”
Not turning around to face me over the back of the couch, he nodded slightly, massaging at his temples. I knew his head was hurting, but he wasn’t showing any sign of sleeping things off.
“You should be resting,” I chided lightly, appreciative of his efforts, and a little amused that this larger-than-life man had a real interest in my work.
“Least I could do,” he mumbled.
“Thanks.” I bit my lip. “And thanks for the sandwich and water.”
Another nod.
“Listen,” I said, as I came back around the couch, then sat on the chair off to its side. It was my writing chair whenever it was a chilly night and I wanted to curl up and stay warm by the fire.
“I need to get out of your space, yeah, I know.” He looked at me with sincerity strewn across his face. “I need to get to my truck, but with my head the way it is, I can’t drive just yet. I didn’t think of this before, but can I borrow your phone?”
I shook my head, no.
His eyes narrowed on me. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shook my head again. “No, I’m not. Our cells aren’t within range here on most days.”
“What do you do in case of emergency?”
“I handle it myself.”
“And what if you can’t?”
I squared my shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “I guess this poor wilting flower is just doomed to die out here all by her lonesome.” When he didn’t say anything further, I decided to humor him. “If I need anything, I have a sporadic internet connection that gets me what I want. If I’m in dire need of something, I have my Jeep to get me to the nearest town. I can rotate my tires, change my own oil, cut some lumber, and whatever else you might think women shouldn’t know anything about. Contrary to what this place looks like, and what you might have assumed by looking around, I do make it out to civilization, Albert Caden Summers.”
He chuckled. “You remind me of your heroine, Sasha.” He grabbed the book he’d chucked to the side and waved it, then sighed. “So what’s next?”
My brows knitted together in thought.
What was next?
My head reeled with confusing thoughts and emotions.
Shit if I knew!
Cade
I knew I should care more about what was going on with Rex, his skip, and the rest of the gang at Nightshade. Hell, I should be concerned about the dead dude who had been pushed off the cliff before I’d gone plummeting down it myself. With that said, there was no doubt in my mind Rex had gotten word back to the men about what had happened, or his rendition rather. And I knew Aspen had put in a message with the authorities about what she’d come across, or so she’d mentioned as much last night.
But I didn’t care enough to force the situation and get out of her hair at the moment. I probably could have made my way back to town, but the dizzy spells that came and went over the course of the afternoon told me it had been a good call for me to stay put.
By dinnertime, my appetite was lost, my head was back to pounding to the point I could barely keep my eyes open, and I was freezing.
“You need to eat,” she said, as she saw me picking at my plate, only shuffling each ridiculously tasty-looking morsel around.
“I’m not…” I took a deep breath at the sudden wave of nausea that settled in my gut.
“Son of a biscuit!” I heard, then before I knew it, Aspen was at my side, preventing me from toppling off the side of the chair, then helping me up to my feet. “We need to get you into bed.”
“Couch,” I mumbled, not sure how much longer it would be before the contents of my stomach would come back to greet us, or if I’d end up passed out on the floor first.
“No,” she argued. “The bed’s closer, and you don’t need another knock to the head to make things worse.”
She won.
Teeth chattering, throbbing in my brain, my nausea finally settled with my lying facing the wall. The medicine did nothing this time around for my head or the fever I suspected I fell prey to. I had three large blankets over me, and I was still shaking.
“Cade,” a gentle voice broke me away from all thoughts of my misery. “You need to strip, Caden.”
“Not the time, sweetheart,” I croaked, my throat having gone raw and dry.
A muffled laugh.
“I’m glad my pain is amusing,” I mumbled, pulling the blankets over my head.
“No, Cade,” she started, “I need you to take your clothes off so I can wash and dry them. You’ve soaked through them with your sweating.”
“I’m not sweating,” I argued. “I’m fucking freezing.”
“Albert Caden Summers,” she growled in that don’t-mess-with-me kind of way women often excelled at—my mother especially.
“Fine,” I grumbled, then sat myself up.
“Do you think you can get out of bed?” she asked. “I’ll change the sheets while I’m at it.”
Not giving her any more acknowledgement, I practically dragged myself to the bathroom, my arms wrapped around myself to calm the shaking whenever I wasn’t holding on for dear life for fear of falling on my face, thanks to my body’s weakness and spinning head.
“Feel better?” Aspen asked, as soon as I’d stepped foot into the bedroom a half hour or so later.
“Much,” I said. I wasn’t going to let her know I’d spent the latter part of the last fifteen minutes sitting on the bottom of her tub, in case I lost my balance.
When I’d entered the bathroom earlier, the shower was begging my attention, so I’d indulged, not even caring to ask for permission. It gave Aspen enough time to do her thing anyway. By the time I got out, my clothes were missing and all that was left was a sheet for me to cover up with on the bathroom counter. It never occurred to me that she could have gotten an eyeful considering her shower curtains were clear.
“I left some medicine and water for you on the bedside table,” she said from her chair, her eyes aimed at that laptop of hers.
The sudden realization I was feeling parched hit me, so I made my way to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress, and grabbed the glass. I managed a, “Thank you,” after I’d finished gulping down the drink.
Settling back down in the freshly made bed, I scooted sideways so as to make enough room for Aspen, then patted the mattress at my side. She couldn’t even meet my eyes, the flush on her cheeks one of embarrassment, or was it shyness? “I could go and sleep on the couch,” I offered. “I do feel better now.” I was, but not by much. Truthfully, she looked absolutely exhausted, and I felt awful she’d barely slept a wink last night because she’d taken care of me.
“No,” she croaked, then cleared her throat. “No, that’s okay. You keep the bed and I’ll take the couch.”
“Aspen,” I warned.
Our respective dogs watched the interchange from the carpet at the foot of the bed, snuggled closely together. I actually found myself envious of Renegade for once. The lucky bastard had someone to snuggle with and for once I’d found myself wanting what he had. Yes, that’s me, jealous of a damn dog.
“Oh, fine!” she huffed, then got up from her nemesis chair from the night before and stomped toward the bed. That’s when I noticed she’d changed.
But why cover the top with that ratty sweatshirt?
“I promise I’ll keep the sheet wrapped around me. It seems a nymph made away with my clothes while I was showering.” I smirked.
She scooted to the edge of the bed, grabbed the decorative pillows that were on the floor beside it, then shoved them between us, pummelling them each into the mattress to ensure they’d stay put throughout the night.
“Turn around,” she demanded. “This is not what I thought sharing a bed with a man for the first time in this place would be like.”
“I’m the one who’s naked,” I stated, and I’m not touching that last comment.
“Just turn around, will you?”
“Spoilsport,” I mumbled, doing as she’d requested, then burying my face into the pillow because it had that lavender smell I’d sniffed yesterday in my delirious state.
“Be careful with that sarcasm or you might find yourself sleeping with the chickens,” she muttered.
Within minutes, the room grew quiet and I couldn’t help thinking about what was going through Aspen’s head at that very moment.
Flipping myself around with my sore muscles groaning in protest, I turned to face her, finding her mummied in her blankets, her arms stiff on either side of her.
“Relax, sweetheart,” I whispered, staying on my side of our fluffy divider.
“I’m trying.” She let out a loud breath, and I swear I could see her slowly melting into the mattress.
“That’s it,” I cooed, then yawned. How could I be sleepy at a time like this? Oh yeah, I’m gimped out and that fever I’d spiked took just about all I had out of me.
“Tell me something more about you,” she said. “I know about your family, but what do you do?”
So it was going to be more about me, huh? All right. Fine. If it made her feel more at ease, then why not. Maybe we’d get to talk more about why she thought she was frigid and why the fuck I was the first man in her bed later.