Chapter 27
Hannah
The lodge is lit up when I pull into the clearing.
Torin swings Gunnar’s truck in beside me, and before I’ve even turned off the engine, the front door opens.
Orson takes the steps in two bounds and is halfway across the clearing by the time I climb out.
He stops abruptly in front of me. “You’re back.”
“I’m back.”
He frowns, looking me over. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
He nods, his shoulders loosening.
Then Torin gets out of Gunnar’s truck.
Orson looks him over too.
“You look like shit.”
Torin glances down at himself. “And there I was thinking you’d be pleased to see me.”
“I am pleased to see you.”
“I’m touched.”
Orson grins.
Alexandria rushes toward me and pulls me into a hug. “Thank God,” she murmurs. She holds on for a long moment before releasing me.
“Hi,” I say.
She laughs. “Hi.”
Gunnar gives me a warm hug too. “Glad you’re back, Hannah.”
“Thanks.”
Then he goes to Torin.
“You all right?” Gunnar asks.
“Yeah.”
Gunnar nods once, then grabs Torin and pulls him into a fierce hug.
Torin thumps him on the back. “Missed me?”
“Not at all.”
“Thought not.”
Behind me, a truck door opens. Orson is staring into the back of Torin’s truck at the suitcases and bags piled in there. “This all yours?”
“Yeah.”
He looks at me. “Are you staying?”
The question makes me glance at Torin.
He’s standing beside Gunnar, waiting for my answer.
“Yeah,” I say. “I am.”
Orson’s face lights up.
“Cool.”
He reaches into the truck and wrestles out the larger suitcase.
“Jesus. What’s in here?”
I laugh. “My stuff.”
“Did you bring all of it?”
“Pretty much.”
Torin comes over. “Give me that.”
“I’ve got it.”
“You can barely lift it.”
“I can lift it.”
“Great. Carry it inside.”
Orson gives him the finger and starts toward the lodge with the suitcase banging against his leg.
Torin watches him go.
“I was going to help him.”
“Of course you were.”
He reaches into the truck for the other suitcase.
I follow Alexandria inside.
The table is covered with food: a huge dish still bubbling around the edges, roasted potatoes with lemon and herbs, salad, warm flatbread, dips, and a plate piled with crisp golden pastries.
“Oh my God. What did you make?”
Alexandria smiles. “Moussaka. Spanakopita. A few other things. I got inspired by our vacation.”
Behind us, Gunnar laughs. “She’s been cooking since lunchtime.”
Alexandria turns her head. “Nobody asked you.”
“I’m just providing context.”
She rolls her eyes. “I like to keep busy when I’m nervous.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
She gives my arm a squeeze. “Just glad you’re back.”
“Can I help?”
She gives me a fierce look. “Definitely not.”
Orson reaches for a spanakopita.
Alexandria points a finger at him. “Don’t even think about it.”
He pulls his hand back.
I bite back a laugh and sit down.
Once everyone is at the table, Alexandria cuts into the moussaka and serves me a thick piece.
“Tell me if it’s terrible. I’ve never made moussaka before.”
I take a bite. The top is creamy and golden, with layers of eggplant, meat and tomato underneath.
“Oh, wow.”
Alexandria watches me. “Really?”
“Really. This is amazing.”
She looks pleased and finally starts serving herself.
For a while, I eat contentedly. Gunnar and Alexandria are talking about something that happened while we were gone.
Orson has finally been permitted his spanakopita and is making short work of it.
Beside me, Torin reaches for the potatoes and puts a couple more on my plate when he sees mine are gone.
A few days ago, I barely knew these people. Now Alexandria has spent half the day cooking because she was worried about me. Orson lit up when I said I was staying. Gunnar hugged me when I arrived.
Beneath the table, Torin puts his hand on my knee.
I cover it with mine.
By the time we finish eating, I’m so full I can barely move.
Alexandria surveys what’s left on the table. “Well, nobody needs to cook tomorrow.”
“Or possibly the rest of the week,” Gunnar says.
She gives him a look. “You’re welcome.”
“I wasn’t complaining.”
Orson pushes his chair back. “Can I have another spano-pie thing?”
Alexandria looks at him. “You’re still hungry?”
“Yeah.”
She shakes her head, smiling as she passes him the platter.
I pick up my plate and reach for Torin’s.
“Leave it,” Alexandria says. “You’ve had a long enough day.”
“And you’ve been cooking since lunchtime.”
I take Torin’s plate anyway and carry them both to the kitchen. Gunnar starts collecting dishes from the other end of the table while Torin carries the leftovers into the kitchen.
It doesn’t take us long to get everything packed away and the dishwasher loaded.
Alexandria yawns as she closes it.
“Bed,” Gunnar says.
“I’m going.”
He puts an arm around her shoulders, and she looks over at me.
“Sleep well, you two.”
“You too.”
Orson disappears after them, leaving Torin and me to finish clearing up the last few things.
And suddenly I can’t look at him.
I concentrate on putting the last couple of glasses away, aware of him moving around behind me.
This is ridiculous. We’ve kissed. I know how badly he wants me, and he knows I want him.
But now we’re alone. There’s no one to interrupt us, nowhere we need to be, nothing else we have to deal with. And tonight I’m staying.
I close the cupboard and turn around, nerves and desire prickling inside me.
“You must be exhausted,” Torin says.
“I am.”
“Want to go to bed?”
My cheeks heat instantly.
He smiles.
“I meant sleep.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
I laugh.
He reaches for my hand, running his thumb over my fingers. “I can take you to your room if you want.”
I wait.
“Or,” he says, “you can come to mine.”
My heart beats a little faster. I know exactly what I want.
“I want to come with you.”
His expression changes, his irises glowing gold. Then he takes my face in his hands and kisses me. It’s light, but so full of yearning that it makes me dizzy.
“You still want to sleep?” I ask.
He gives a low laugh. “Hell, no.”
I take his hand.
“Then show me your room.”