40. amelia
40
AMELIA
A few weeks later, the world looked completely different. When I looked out the window, no longer did the battlefield from that fateful night greet me, but rather the promising view of the future.
The trees that had stood between the individual cabins had all been felled. The damage had been too severe, and it had been deemed safer to remove them rather than preserve something that no longer served a meaningful purpose.
The debris had been cleared in a matter of days, and the minimal damage to the two intact houses had been repaired. They had been thoroughly cleaned so that now, the helpers who traveled from afar could stay there.
Before more construction work could take place, the foundations of the burned-down cabins had been inspected. Then Gray had consulted an architect because, this time, the cabins would not be constructed over the course of years but instead, through communal work in a matter of weeks. The work on the foundations had finally begun yesterday morning. Gray had personally supervised it.
And although the fire had proved how quickly everything could be destroyed, he had once again opted to primarily use wood and glass. Admittedly, it was also the hallmark of thebed-and-breakfast as the cabins blended so perfectly into nature.
With the help of some assistants from town, I had already started weeks ago to replant the beds around the paths and the gardens. I might not have had the greenest thumb, but seeing everything slowly regreening and blooming made the frustrating work definitely worth it. I had spent countless hours researching plants to choose those that not only promoted biodiversity but also served a purpose without planting anything non-native.
It was certain that things were in motion. Thebed-and-breakfastwas being rebuilt and would reopen in a few months, just in time for the late fall season. In the meantime, to keep us from being forgotten, I had set up a social media account to report on the progress.
Of course, there were some things I couldn't report about. For instance, the details about the fire or the legal proceedings George now faced. The hospital had worked diligently for weeks on his recovery, but the journey seemed to have been a rocky one. Still, I couldn't muster any sympathy for him as Sergeant Williams had interrogated him multiple times, and the only reason he wasn't in pre-trial custody was that his injuries couldn't be adequately treated in prison.
At first, he had refused to admit anything. Then they had found more evidence—in his car and in the motel room he had rented in the next town over.
Apparently, his aim had been not just to destroy theWildwood Hideaway. He had wanted to cause so much damage that Gray would never recover, ultimately framing him for arson and insurance fraud. He had no regard for the lives at stake. And in my case, he had even hoped for an injury so that he could nurse me back to health in the hospital… after I had turned away from Gray.
Sergeant Williams had repeatedly emphasized to me that he seemed like a madman, at times acting as if he had lost every bit of his senses since I had silently left him. According to the appointed psychologist, the decisive reason was that I had chosen Gray instead of taking back his cheating self.
Despite the psychologist's report, it had been determined that George had acted fully aware of what he was doing. In court, therefore, he could expect no mercy once the trials started.
On one hand, I felt relieved. On the other, I actually felt some pity for him. He had gotten off on the wrong track and made a series of poor decisions. Who could have predicted that one would have to face the consequences of their actions?
For my part, I didn't regret a single moment of the past few months. Not the evening at the restaurant. Not my quiet disappearance. And certainly not the time spent with Gray. Speaking of which… it was time for lunch.
On my way down to the kitchen, I sent Manon a quick message. After the fire, she had stayed a few more days, then returned to Toronto, announcing she'd be back for the reopening ofWildwood Hideaway. Until then, we'd resumed our daily phone calls, only now, Gray occasionally chimed in, somehow never able to avoid overhearing our conversations.
I took the prepared lunchbox from the fridge and set off. As soon as the wooden structures came into view, I paused for a moment. The scent of wood was in the air. Sounds of vigorous work filled the surroundings—sawing and hammering, with workers climbing around on the future roof frame, ensuring the construction met the required standards.
I knew Gray was working in the cabin from where he had rescued Declan. It was a bit out of the way, allowing me to sneak past the others without having to greet everyone.
It was nice that they all were helping us, but all the pleasantries and conversations were gradually getting on my nerves. Cookie jumped at me even before I was anywhere near the cabin. Barking, he danced around and up at me, his tongue hanging out as he finally sat down in front of me, tail wagging. I reached into the tiny pocket of my skirt and threw him the treat I had packed earlier. Then I bent down, scratched him behind the ears, and straightened up again.
Cookie had become a source of moral support for everyone working here. The cuddle breaks did wonders when the work seemed overwhelming and everything felt a bit bleak.
I reached the construction site, and, as there were no stairs yet leading up to the foundation, I climbed up and leaned between the beams that would later frame a door. Gray was facing away from me. He had tucked his shirt into his back pocket, giving me a perfect view of his muscular back. His skin glistened in the sun, firing up my thoughts immediately. I crossed my arms behind my back, unsure of how to catch his attention.
"Has anyone ever told you that your backside is just as enticing as your front?"
His head whipped around, his eyes locking on me and slowly narrowing. He let them glide over my body, an eyebrow raised as his gaze lingered on my short skirt. Slowly, he pushed his glasses up into his hair.
"Is that my lunch?"
I grinned. "No, this is," I retorted with a bit too much sass, producing the lunchbox from behind my back.
"My shirt and that damn skirt, sin. Before I even think about that food, you're going to have to help me with a little problem."
"Problem?" Heat rushed through my body all the way to my core.
Gray didn't take his eyes off me as he walked up, snatched the lunchbox from my fingers, and carelessly threw it into the nearest corner.
Instinctively, I took a step back, but his hand on my neck prevented me from putting more distance between us.
With a jerk, he pulled me against his body, then his hands were on the back of my thighs, sliding upward under the skirt, clenching firmly around my butt.
I gasped for air.
"You shouldn't have worn that short skirt if you didn't want to be my snack break today," he whispered in my ear, sending a chill through my entire body.
In recent weeks, we'd taken things slow due to all the work we needed to handle. Stealing bits of time here and there, content just to fall asleep in the same bed.
His reaction took me by surprise. And even more so that he would follow through at a place where anyone could show up at any minute.
"Someone's definitely going to hear you moan, and for some reason, that's completely fine by me," he continued next to my ear.
The fingers of one hand had already moved between my legs. With one finger, he pushed my panties aside, then dragged it from my entrance to my clit and across my core, spreading my wetness.
A pleased sound escaped him as I lifted a leg and wrapped it around his waist, granting him even more access.
With the tip of his finger, he entered me, withdrew it, and busied himself with my sensitive bundle of nerves for a few seconds before plunging his finger back inside me.
One hand stayed on my ass while he removed the other from my pussy, only to spread the wetness from his finger onto my lips before he bent down and kissed me hard and full of desire.
Suddenly, my knees felt much too weak. And not only were my knees affected by his unexpected assault on my body but my mind was too.
"I'm not sure if I want you on the floor, or…" he murmured against my lips, prompting me to bite into his. That seemed to make the decision for him as his hand gripped my hair and took control of my head.
Whatever he was about to do, I was more than ready to be his snack break, and I let him know with my grin.