Chapter 13
Brielle
“Wow. This is really… remote,” I say, looking out at the rough, untamed landscape around us. We haven’t seen a car in miles. Snow still clings to the ground, even though it’s completely gone back at home.
He growls low from the back of his throat. The sound of it sends a spark of heat down my spine. “This is what nightmares are made of,” he grumbles.
I grin and look over to Damian. “Are you scared of the great outdoors, Damian Edgerton?”
“No. I just prefer the city. Where there are more people than cows.”
We have passed a lot of cows on the drive up here.
Our GPS lost connection about an hour ago, the unmarked roads all but useless to the navigation system anyway. Luckily, Leon warned us about that and gave Damian the rest of the directions. I read off the next step as we got closer to the lodge.
“It should be right past the gas station on the left,” I tell him, pointing to the broken-down building with one pump from the 1960s out front.
“Thank fuck.”
“How many murders do you think that gas station has seen?” I ask.
I can see him seething, but he refuses to rise to my baiting.
I laugh. I am enjoying this side of Damian far too much.
He’s always so polished and in control, seeing his with a little sweat on his brow is worth the 5:30 a.m. wake-up call.
Ten minutes later, we pull up to a small wooden cabin surrounded by trees. A couple of other cars are already parked outside, so Damian pulls his Mercedes up next to them on the gravel drive. I grab my bag from the trunk, but Damian takes it from me, along with his own.
“You ready for this?” he asks.
I pull in a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. “Absolutely.”
“Relax. You look like you’re going to war,” he grumbles.
He carries both bags in one hand and threads his fingers through mine with the other.
It’s still weird, doing this with my boss. But also, not weird. Which is weird.
The whole thing is weird.
I knock on the door, and within a couple of seconds, Pam is there greeting us. She still looks chic, but with a more down-to-earth vibe. She’s paired wide-leg jeans with a white T-shirt tucked in, and a dark blue flannel over it adds warmth and style.
“Welcome to our little oasis, Mr. Edgerton, Brielle.”
“Please, call me Damian.” He drops my hand to shake hers. Then, to my surprise, she leans in to me for a hug. I didn’t take Pam Vitale for a hugger, but I’m all about it.
Damian leads me into the cabin behind Pam. He doesn’t take my hand again, and I suddenly feel like I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it.
“Damian, you made it,” Leon bellows, his face lined with a wide smile. “And Brielle, I’m so glad you were able to come, too.”
“Thank you, Mr. Vitale. You have a beautiful place,” Damian says.
“It’s small but cozy.” He grins. “This is my daughter, Courtney, her husband, Stephen, and their little girl, Maggie,” he says, gesturing to the family sitting on the couch.
Stephen gets up to shake Damian’s and my hands, but Courtney is busy wrestling Maggie onto her lap, half a pigtail done while she struggles to gather the other half.
“Hi. I’m Maggie, ouch,” she says as Courtney pulls on her hair to get her to sit.
I say hello to Courtney and wave at her daughter. “Hi, Maggie,” I say, a smile pulling at my cheeks.
“Everyone, this is Damian Edgerton and his girlfriend, Brielle,” Leon announces to the room in his usual booming voice.
It’s the first time someone has labeled us that way.
Damian and I have joked about it, mentioned it during our evenings together—but this introduction feels different.
I can tell I’m not the only one who feels that way.
Damian freezes beside me like he’s just now realizing that we’re really doing this whole charade.
Nerves are starting to pick up in my belly. I was fine on the way up here, but now that we’re standing here, in their family room, with their actual family, I feel like a complete fraud.
“Maggie, sit still. Sorry, I’d get up to greet you, but my hands are a little full,” Courtney says.
“Not a problem.”
“Damian, if you want to put the bags down, I’ll show you where you and Brielle are sleeping,” Leon offers.
“That’d be great. Thank you.”
The two of them go off down a corridor, and I take a seat on the couch next to Pam.
“I like your hair,” Maggie says.
“Oh, thank you. I like your hair.” I smile. “You know, I think our hair is almost the same color.”
“Mommy, look, we have the same hair.” Maggie beams at her mom. “Will you do her hair in pigtails, too?”
“I can’t even get your hair in pigtails with all the moving around you’re doing.”
“I’ll sit still, and then you can do her hair. What’s your name again?”
“She doesn’t want her hair in pigtails, baby,” Stephen answers, sending me an apologetic look.
“Brielle,” I say, answering her question. “And I would love pigtails.” I smile at her.
“I can do them. Can I do them? Please?”
“Sure thing,” I agree.
After Courtney finishes Maggie’s hair, she hops down from her mom’s lap and runs to me. I get her settled on the couch and take a seat on the floor in front of her so she has better reach. Her sticky little hands pull at my hair, but I try not to make a face.
“You don’t have to, you know,” Courtney tells me.
“I want to. I love pigtails.”
I look up and meet Damian’s eyes. He and Leon come back into the family room, Leon chatting away, but I have no idea about what. Not when Damian’s eyes are on me like that. He’s wearing an expression I haven’t seen before. I can’t quite place it, but then his lip tugs up in a smirk.
“I wish I could put Damian’s hair in pigtails, too,” I tell Maggie. Damian’s eyes narrow, his smirk slipping right off his face.
“His hair is too short,” she says.
He shakes his head at me, but his eyes are shining.
“How does that sound with everyone?” Leon says. Everyone’s eyes are on either me or Damian.
“Great,” I agree, still no idea what he was talking about.
“Well then, we’ll get ready and then be off.”
Maggie hops down and runs to her mom while I make my way to Damian.
“Do you know what we’re doing?” I whisper to him.
He leans in close, his nose touching the side of my face.
I can feel his breath on my skin when he whispers back to me.
“You’re the one that agreed to it. Were you not listening, Brielle?
Tsk tsk tsk.” His frame is so much bigger than mine, taking up the space around me, making my heart think it wants in on the action, when in reality, it can stay right out of this conversation.
“Just answer the question, Edgerton.”
He pulls back, his face completely neutral with no sign of the playfulness from a moment ago. “You signed us up for a hiking trail. Better make sure your boots are comfortable.”
I look down at my winter boots. They are fine for trekking through the snow, but they’re not built for hiking. Damian eyes me, waiting for a reaction. I don’t bother giving him one. I can do this. They have a five-year-old with them. How hard can this hike be?
“I’m ready when you are.”
Holy hell. I think I’m dying. My lungs can’t expand enough to get any air in. A raspy, wheezing sound rattles my chest, heaving out of my mouth like a dying cat.
“We’re almost there. It’ll all be worth it. Trust me.” Courtney smiles.
She and Damian are waiting for me to catch my breath while the rest of the gang forged on ahead. Even Maggie is bounding up the mountain. I don’t know why I thought a kid would have a hard time. She’s got the energy of twelve Red Bulls flowing through her naturally.
“I thought this trail was for amateurs,” I gripe.
“Dad said that you guys loved hiking,” Courtney chuckles.
I can’t remember if we told him that during our dinner together or if Damian said something to him in the past two weeks. My muddled brain is trying to come up with something that sounds legitimate, but the act of breathing is taking all of my effort.
“We do. It’s been a while, that’s all. Brielle just needs to stay more active during the winter,” Damian answers smugly.
“I’m fine,” I huff through stuttered breathes. “Let’s keep going.”
“Drink the water, Brielle.” Damian is perfectly fine other than some minor sweat making him shine.
Unlike my ragged shell of a human appearance.
My pigtails came out a while ago, my hair now pulled into a single ponytail, soaked in sweat at the base of my neck and around my hairline.
The boots are killing my feet, weighing me down with their heft and offering me no real support.
I suck down the water, handing him back the empty bottle.
Damian shakes it before tipping it upside down. When not even a drop comes out, he pulls his lips into a flat line, placing the bottle back in his bag.
We get going again, Courtney leading the way, me in the middle, and Damian at the end of our train—probably so I don’t get left behind.
The trail turns into rocky ledge just as we crest the top of the mountain.
I take two steps into the opening before my feet are suddenly glued to the ground.
The views around me are spectacular. Snow-covered mountaintops as far as the eye can see.
A road cuts through the side of one, small specks moving past as people go about their lives, probably not even a thought to the majestic beauty around them.
Damian stands beside me. Not touching. No words. Just mutual admiration of the beauty of nature.
And lots of heavy breathing.
“You made it,” Leon laughs.
“Come over here. You can see the valley through the mountains. It’s absolutely stunning,” Pam says, calling over to us.
She’s right. I stand on the rocky ledge for a while, my heart rate coming back down. Every step, every labored breath, every aching muscle was so worth it.