“But the cabins…”
“Are either impossible to get to or in the last stages of remodeling. You will have to stay at my place.”
Chapter Four
Nico
“Are you absolutely sure, Nico?” My name on his lips lit up my body like I was standing in front of the biggest fire burning in the hearth. Instead, I was holding a plate of leftovers and gawking.
“I’m sure.” I scoffed, trying to play it cool and failing miserably. “You can’t go back out there, and I have a warm cabin with food and a place to ride out the storm.” Goddess, I shouldn’t have used the word ride in any form around this man, but words and water were impossible to recover.
“Let me grab a few things from the car, and I’ll be back.”
I nodded and, as soon as he was back outside, let out a huge sigh of relief. I could do this. I could be normal and care for Paxton in this way without any expectations of what would happen next. Then again, was this Fate giving me a second chance?
A little could hope.
Once he was back, I led him to my cabin and thanked myself for stoking the fire before I left. Now that Paxton was here, I would put on some real dinner. It’s what I would do for any guest. Anyone who came to me for help.
“This is where you live now?” he asked, setting his bags down near the door. He took off his coat, hanging it on the hook beside mine. It looked like it belonged there all along. His boots were shucked next, and again he placed them near mine. All this time, and my body responded to every tiny detail as though we were back in our houses, living right next door to each other. Best of friends. Lovers, in my mind.
“Yes. I bought this place a few months ago and decided to restore it to the resort it once was. This cabin belonged to the owners, an older couple.”
Paxton took in the place while I made a mental inventory of what I could make quickly to warm him up. “It’s really cozy in here. Like something out of a movie.”
I nodded, trying not to ogle him too much. Time had been good to him. He had gained a bit of weight but in all the right places. His hair was longer now, less of a severe cut. “I thought so too. There’s a restroom down the hallway to the right if you need to clean up, or make yourself at home by the fire. I’m going to put on some dinner and some hot cocoa for later.”
The man of my dreams walked over to the fire and warmed his hands, rubbing them together. He made a low sound of approval and sat on the chair usually reserved for me. He extended his legs and wiggled his toes inside of overly adorable patchwork-print socks. I turned to my kitchen and focused on making some soup. It was chicken noodle from a package, but if I added a few veggies and some leftover chicken, it would be almost as good as homemade. Tomorrow, I would make him something better.
It was wrong of me, but I hoped the storm kept him here for a while.
I made him a bowl of soup and heated up some sweet potato cornbread I had planned to have for breakfast. I placed it at the table and realized that Paxton had fallen asleep in front of the fire. His cheeks were rosy now, even the tips of his ears. He was completely still with his arms crossed lazily across his chest.
I had been in love with this man since the first time I met him. Nothing had changed about my feelings. My heart still beat three times harder in his presence. He calmed parts of me that I’d thought permanently on vibrate. I felt rooted in safety when he was around.
I made the decision before reaching out to wake him up. While he was here, in my home, I was going to be 100 percentmyself. I would be vulnerable and let him see all of me, including the parts I was afraid he would shun.
Including telling him that I was in love with him.
“Pax,” I said. The nickname flowed from my mouth easily. “I made you some soup.”
“Whoa,” he said, rubbing his eyes while smiling. “I can’t believe I passed out like that.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad you were warm. Your food is on the table.”
Paxton dug into the soup, eating with gusto. He ate the cornbread and asked if I had more. I used to make it for him all the time. I offered him more, slathered with butter, along with a steaming cup of my special hot cocoa. He’d had that before too.
“This is better than I remembered,” he moaned after taking a sip of the sweet drink.
“What is?” I asked.
“Your food. Being around you. I’ve really missed you, Nico.”
I cleared my throat, desperate to stop the tears before they came. “I missed you too. Maybe Fate wanted us to be friends again.”
He chuckled, and I swore there was a twinkle of something more in his gaze. “Maybe so.”
We laughed and talked about old times. I told him about getting burned out and seeing this place. How it saved me.
