Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
CAROLINE
I crack my window. The mountain breeze rushes inside. The air smells different up here. Cleaner and cooler. Like pine needles and damp earth after rain. I close my eyes for just a second. It feels like freedom.
Sebastian notices. "You cold?"
I open my eyes. "No."
"You'll tell me if you are?"
I smile. "Yes."
He nods once. The truck rounds one final bend. Then I see it.
"Oh..."
Nestled among towering evergreens sits the most beautiful cabin I've ever seen.
It's built almost entirely from thick cedar logs that glow amber beneath the porch lights.
A wide wooden porch wraps around the front, complete with two rocking chairs facing the mountains.
Flower boxes overflow beneath every window despite the lateness of the season.
It doesn't look like a house. It looks like somewhere people fall in love.
Somewhere people grow old together. Somewhere children race across the porch while dogs sleep in the sunshine. It looks… like home.
Sebastian parks the truck. Neither of us moves immediately.
"You hate it," he says.
I laugh softly. "I was literally about to tell you it's the prettiest place I've ever seen."
He looks almost embarrassed. "It's just a cabin."
I turn toward him. I shake my head slowly. “No, it's beautiful.”
His expression changes. Just for a second. Like my words landed somewhere deep inside him.
Then he looks away. "Come on."
He climbs out first. I gather my dress—which somehow looks even more ridiculous after spending the evening in a bar—and carefully follow him.
The porch creaks beneath my feet. Not loudly. The sound is oddly comforting as if the cabin is greeting us.
Sebastian unlocks the front door. "After you."
I step inside. The cabin somehow manages to be even more beautiful inside.
The walls are all warm honey-colored wood.
Massive exposed beams stretch across the ceiling.
A huge stone fireplace dominates one wall.
An oversized leather sofa faces the fireplace, draped with thick plaid blankets that practically beg someone to curl up beneath them.
Built-in bookshelves cover an entire wall.
Hundreds of books. There are handmade quilts folded neatly over chairs.
A braided rug lies beneath a heavy wooden coffee table that looks like it was built by hand.
The kitchen sits just beyond the living room, filled with butcher-block counters and open wooden shelves.
Copper pots hang above an old farmhouse island.
Everything matches yet nothing feels staged. It simply feels... lived in.
I slowly turn in a circle.
Sebastian is looking at me. "What?"
“Nothing…” I whisper.
I've only been here thirty seconds. I've never seen this cabin before tonight. Yet standing here, I feel safer than I ever have in the house I grew up in. Safer than the apartment I shared with Nathan. Safer than anywhere.
I laugh quietly to myself. I look around the cabin one more time. Something inside me aches. Because I already know tomorrow morning is going to hurt. I'll have to leave.
Go back to reality and deal with Nathan. Deal with my mother. Deal with the fallout of today. But standing here... I don't want tomorrow. I want this. The quiet. The mountains. This cabin. Him. Especially him. I glance toward Sebastian.
He's taking off his boots near the door, completely unaware that I'm staring. Or maybe he is aware. It's impossible to tell with him.
Everything about him is perfect. The broad width of his shoulders.
The roughness of his hands. Everything about him feels solid.
Steady. Like the mountains outside. The strange part isn't that I'm attracted to him.
That much is obvious. The strange part is how familiar he feels.
It's ridiculous. I've known him for hours. Hours.
Yet sitting across from him in the bar and laughing together… Then driving through the mountains up to his cabin… it doesn’t feel like I’m with someone new. It feels like I’m finding someone I’ve known for years.
He catches me looking. "What?"
I smile before I can stop myself. "Nothing."
His eyes narrow. "That was suspicious."
I laugh. "I'm beginning to think that's your favorite word."
"It is when you're involved."
I shake my head. "I'm not suspicious."
"No?"
"No."
He folds his arms.
"You're smiling at me."
"So?"
"So either you're planning something..." A slow smile finally spreads across his face. "...or you've decided I'm not a serial killer."
I grin. "I've narrowed it down to about a twenty percent chance."
He places a hand over his heart. "I'm honored."
"So am I." The words slip out before I think.
His smile softens. Mine does too.
Sebastian clears his throat. "You probably want to get out of that dress."
I glance down. The once-perfect white gown is wrinkled, dusty around the hem, and missing one shoe. I sigh. "It has seen better days."
"So have you." The words are quiet. Gentle.
There isn't a hint of pity in his voice.
I smile softly. "I probably smell like a combination of wedding cake and whiskey.”
His mouth twitches. "I wasn't going to say it."
"You're thinking it."
"I was mostly thinking about the whiskey.”
I laugh. "Come on."
He gestures toward the hallway. "I'll show you the guest room."
I follow him. The hallway is just as cozy as the rest of the cabin. Framed landscape photographs line the walls. A woven runner stretches across the hardwood floor. Warm pools of light spill from antique-looking sconces. Everything feels intentionally simple. Nothing flashy. It suits him perfectly.
Sebastian stops at the last door on the right. "This one's?—"
At the exact same moment, I step forward. So does he. We collide. Not hard.
Just enough that my shoulder brushes his chest. "Oh!"
"Sorry."
We both instinctively step sideways. Unfortunately... We choose the same direction. We bump into each other again.
I laugh. "So much for graceful."
"Apparently doorways are our greatest enemy."
"I thought bears held that title."
"They've been replaced."
"I feel honored."
"So does the doorway."
I try to step around him one more time. He does exactly the same thing. Again. This time we're so close that I lose my balance. A small gasp escapes me.
Before I can stumble, Sebastian reaches out. His hand settles gently around my waist. Steady and warm.
Everything inside me goes completely still. The hallway suddenly feels much smaller. His other hand braces lightly against the doorframe beside my head. Not trapping me. Just keeping himself balanced. Our laughter fades. Neither of us says anything.
I slowly lift my eyes. He's already looking at me. His face is only inches away now. Close enough that I notice tiny flecks of amber hidden inside his dark eyes. Close enough that I catch the clean scent of cedar soap and fresh mountain air.
Close enough that my pulse begins hammering against my ribs. His hand remains at my waist. Gentle. Respectful. I become painfully aware of every place we're almost touching. The warmth of his body. The rise and fall of his breathing.
My gaze drops. Just for a second. To his mouth.
His lips are so close. One tiny movement.
That's all it would take. A single inch—Maybe less.
I don't even realize I've stopped breathing until my lungs start protesting.
The thought slips into my mind before I can stop it.
Please kiss me. The realization shocks me.
What is wrong with me? I met this man today. This morning I was supposed to marry someone else. Yet standing here... Looking into Sebastian's eyes... Nothing has ever felt more natural.
He isn't staring at my lips. He's staring into my eyes.
Like he's searching for something. Like he's having the exact same argument with himself that I'm having.
Time seems to stretch. Neither of us moves.
I don't want to. I don't think he does either.
For one impossible heartbeat, it feels as though the whole world is waiting.
Then something changes. I see it happen. A wall slides back into place behind his eyes. His expression tightens almost imperceptibly. He drops his gaze. His hand slips carefully away from my waist. He takes one deliberate step backward. Creating space between us. Too much space.
"I'm..." He clears his throat. "The guest room is right here."
His voice is quieter now. Almost awkward. Like he's suddenly remembering all the reasons this is a terrible idea. He reaches for the doorknob instead of looking at me.
"This bathroom has fresh towels," he says. "Take as long as you want."
He opens the door and steps aside. Still avoiding my eyes.
The ache that settles in my chest catches me completely by surprise.
It's sharp and immediate. As though something precious has been taken away before I ever had the chance to hold it.
I don't understand it. I shouldn't feel disappointed.
I definitely shouldn't feel rejected. He didn't reject me.
Nothing happened. Almost happened isn't the same thing. And yet...
I can't stop wondering what would have happened if neither of us had moved. If he'd stayed exactly where he was. If I'd been brave enough to close that impossible little distance between us. Instead, we're standing several feet apart again.
He finally looks at me. His smile is small and gentle.
“I’ll be in the living room, Caroline."
I force myself to smile back. “Okay. Thanks.”