Chapter 1 #6
“Look, Hannah,” he said, taking no notice of the human puddle he’d turned me into, “I’m not going to lie.
I don’t want you to leave. But I really don’t want you to feel stuck here either.
Unfortunately, your car doesn’t give a shit what I want.
But maybe we can try later today.” Leaning over, he picked up his mug and drained the rest of his coffee, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down his throat with each swallow.
When he swiped his own keys from the counter, which made Joey scamper from his chair and sprint toward the door, he said, “For now, I’ll drive you down. Hopefully I won’t get stuck too.”
His old pickup truck was much better in the mud than my rental, and when we pulled up to the Merc and ran through the rain to get inside, my phone lit up with three missed calls and six missed texts.
All from Steph. Nothing from William, because he was off having fun.
Not thinking about me. Just like he should be.
But would one text kill him?
Shoving the thought down, I watched Darryn wander off to inspect the beer fridge, and then I called Steph back.
“You what!?” she shrieked.
Cupping the phone, even though he was probably too far away to hear her, busy pulling out a sixpack of some IPA, I said, “I am so sorry I didn’t get back to you last night. But…that’s why.”
“Oh my god, who the fuck cares. Hannah, you banged a hot stranger in a cabin in the woods. This is, like, the best possible scenario. Was it good? Please tell me it was good.”
I could barely keep the smile from my face—could do nothing at all about the heat flaring into my cheeks. “Good doesn’t even come close. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. I’m heading home as soon as the rain stops, and we can get my car out—”
“What? Why?” she blurted out. “You have two more days.”
Darryn had moved to the bookshelf, the six-pack tucked under one arm as he studiously read the back cover of The Field Guide to Montana Wildflowers.
“Because,” I started, then stalled out when he made a thoughtful huh sound at something he’d read. “I mean, shouldn’t I?”
“Fuck no,” she insisted. “This is a grand slam. Or a slam dunk. It’s some kind of sportsball-related slam. Has he asked you to stay?”
“He…” A shiver worked its way up my neck. “Yeah, he did.”
“So stay with him. Stay with the hot guy who gave you great sex. My god. But send me a picture of his ID first. Just in case. Okay, I gotta go. But I love you. Have fun. Have sooo much fun.”
“Love you too.”
Ending the call, I sent William a quick Love you. Miss you text. Then I joined Darryn at the bookshelf.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Steph wants me to send her a picture of your ID.”
He didn’t say a word, just put the flower book down, pulled his driver’s license out of his wallet, and handed it to me with a smile.
I snapped a pic, sent it to Steph, grabbed a bottle of malbec from the wine display because fuck it, why not? Why not stay with the hot guy who gave me great sex? and met him at the counter.
“You’re still here,” the friendly clerk said. “Oh.” They looked Darryn up and down with wide, unblinking eyes. “Was this who you were double-booked with?”
“Um, yep.” I placed the wine on the counter.
“That is amazing.” Their gaze shifted knowingly between us, their hand rising to cover their heart. “Seriously.”
“It’s not like that,” I said, and when Darryn looked down at me with an oh, really?
expression, I wondered if I was wrong. Maybe it was exactly like that.
And maybe, that was okay. “But,” I continued, biting my lower lip while I handed him his driver’s license, while he took it from me with a brush of his fingertips over mine, “I think I might stick around.”
“I should unpack my car,” I said when we walked back into the cabin. “Steph packed the trunk, and I don’t even know what’s in there.”
After shaking out our umbrella, Darryn rounded the counter, set my bottle of wine down, and pulled a corkscrew out of a drawer.
“Are we starting early?” I asked, halting something like giddiness in the middle of my chest.
“Why not? I checked the weather when we were at the Merc. It’s going to rain all day. We’re locked in. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do.” He twisted the screw, his forearm muscles tensing, then he pulled the cork free with a promising pop. “Come on, Hannah. Let’s be irresponsible.”
I hadn’t realized I’d licked my lips until he stared at them. All the way through filling my glass, he stared at them. I’d never been so acutely aware of my mouth, noticing every molecule of air passing over my lips, every sensory fiber on high alert.
“Here.” He passed me the glass, then picked up my keys. “Relax. Enjoy your wine.” A corner of his mouth hitched. “And I’ll go see what you’ve got in your trunk.”
A few minutes later, he trudged back into the cabin with three gallons of water tucked under his arms, the cooler I’d completely forgotten about packing strapped over one shoulder, a raincoat over the other, and a pair of running shoes dangling from his fingers.
“Your friend got you set,” he said, dropping my shoes by the door.
After placing the cooler on the kitchen counter and lining up my water bottles next to his, he pulled a power bank from one pocket, and then a box of condoms—which he shook with an amused expression—from the other. “She was very thorough.”
I closed my eyes for a long blink. Steph was going to get an earful. “I don’t… I’m not usually—”
“On the prowl for a hookup?” he suggested.
Then his wry smile flattened, his hand running through his curls.
“Me neither.” He gave me a self-deprecating laugh.
“I’ve always wanted to, don’t get me wrong.
But I’ve actually never done anything like…
Like what we did yesterday.” His gaze fell to my lips again, my throat. “Not sure what got into me.”
While he left me to ponder that morsel of info, unpacking my cooler before I even had the chance to do it myself, I tried to wrangle my frazzled heartrate back to normal.
I’d made my decision. I was staying. It didn’t mean that we’d see each other naked again.
It didn’t mean anything except that both of us would have a chance to enjoy some peace and quiet for the next two days.
Which was precisely what I was going to do.
After thanking him for unpacking my car, I took my glass of wine, pulled the cozy mystery I’d brought with me out of my bag, and curled up in one of the comfy armchairs next to my room.
“How old is he?” I asked, smiling at Joey while he panted up at me from his chair in pure, unadulterated bliss.
“Not sure.” Darryn popped open a beer. “Vet thinks around five.”
“Is he a rescue?”
“He is.” Darryn touched the bottle to his lips, took a sip, swallowed it down.
My skin tingled. Evidently, I had a real thing for throats.
“I was lonely after Jeremiah, my son, moved, so on a whim I went to the shelter. And there he was, staring up at me through the bars of his cage, wagging his tail like he was so happy I finally showed up. Like he’d been waiting.
And I thought, that’s him. That’s my guy. ”
I didn’t think I had a cold heart, but it was careful, a little battle-hardened. Had to be in my line of work. All it took was a grown man smiling at his dog like he’d saved his life to turn it into a defenseless pile of feathers. “He’s adorable,” I said.
“He is.” He tossed the dog a hunk of cheese from the snack plate he’d started making. “My best bud.”
My feathery heart scattered at the words, loss blowing through me like a storm.
When Darryn said, “Tell me about your son,” I wondered if he was a mind reader, or maybe it was just that my sadness was noticeable to anyone who took the time to look.
He placed the plate filled with cheese, salami, blueberries, and crackers on the side table, then he took the chair beside me and asked, “What’s he going to school for?”
Rubbing at the William-shaped ache in my chest, I said, “Environmental law. UCLA.”
“Really?” A smile flashed across Darryn’s face. “That’s amazing.”
“He is the coolest kid. My ex and I got divorced when he was ten, so it’s mostly just been us, just me and William.
One thing they don’t tell you about parenting is how wonderful it is to watch this person, this little soul, grow into an adult.
A kind, caring, funny, talented adult with a completely unique way of looking at the world.
And you just sit back and witness this happen in complete and total… ”
“Awe,” he said softly, finding the word I’d been searching for. Like he knew. Like he’d felt it too.
“Yeah.”
His hand slid over my knee for a brief squeeze.
“This, your kid going to college, leaving home, is a big deal. When you look back at the moments that shaped you, that made your life what it was, this will be in the top ten. So it makes sense that it feels huge. Because top ten moments are supposed to feel huge.”
I stared into my glass, feeling the truth of the statement—also still feeling the heat of his palm through my leggings.
“Sometimes,” I said as he rose to his feet to peruse the bookshelf, “I just wish I could zoom out, you know? Just expand my fingers and see the big picture. See his life in five years, ten, and know that he’ll be fine, and I’ll be fine, and that this is just the way things go.
Because being so close to it, it’s hard to see past this moment. This great big goodbye.”
“I like that.” His chin dipped. “Life definitely needs a zoom feature. Instant perspective.” He squatted to look at the puzzles and games on the lowest shelf, his jeans stretching tight over his thick thighs.
“You’re a very insightful person, Hannah.
I bet it helps you in your job. And as someone who has already lived through the great big goodbye, twice, do you want to hear some good news? ”
“There’s good news?” I asked, my shoulders finally starting to distance themselves from my ears.