It looks small, but sturdy and full of light, the windows catching the last of the sun. From this distance, you’d never guess the electric company has it on a list. That the county’s eye is on its parcel number. That its owner is one missed paycheck away from losing it.
“Whatever angel watches over me, hold it together please,” I whisper under my breath as the cabin disappears behind a stand of trees. “Just a little longer.”
The road down the mountain is familiar and winding, one tight curve after another. I drive it slowly, tapping the brakes only as needed before each turn, my headlights washing over bare branches.
Halfway down, my phone chimes with another weather alert.
Frost Advisory: Temperatures tonight may dip below predicted lows in higher elevations.
I snort. “Of course they will,” I say to the open air in my car, because if there’s anything life has taught me lately, it’s that nothing ever goes exactly the way you plan.
I glance at the duffel in the rearview mirror, at the thin blue blanket peeking out of the zipper.
Upper thirties, the forecast had said.
Mild winter temps.
No snow expected.
Boom, now it’s a winter advisory, really? This is the story of my life, one unplanned problem after the next.
What will come next? The guest cancels… please no. I need this payout more than I need heat on this freezing winter night.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and keep driving toward the park, toward the dark lot and the backseat waiting to be my home for the night, and tell myself I’ll be fine.
I have to be.
Five
Stud
The dawn creeps weakly through my bedroom blinds, pale and cold, the early winter light stretching across the hardwood floor like it’s tired before it even gets started. I blink awake to the quiet tick of my bedside clock and the soft, rhythmic breathing of the woman lying half sprawled across my chest.
Jerri, Gina, Jeanie, what was her damn name?
No—Gina. Right. Gina.
Maybe.
Pretty little thing, twenty-something, dark hair spilling everywhere, her leg thrown over my thigh like she owns real estate there.
She doesn’t.
She never will.
I clear my throat once, low. “Time to get up.”
“Mmmph,” she mumbles, burrowing her nose into my shoulder. Her hand slides up my stomach, nails grazing skin. “You’re warm.”
“So is the sun,” I mutter, giving her hip a gentle tap. “Rise and shine.”
She groans and flops onto her back dramatically. The sheet pulls down just enough to make me look away out of sheer habit—not because I’m shy, but because I’m already mentally halfway out the door. Her tits were great for last night, today, I have shit to do that doesn’t involve fucking her again.
A man can enjoy a night without promising tomorrow. I’ve been clear about that.
She stretches like a cat, arms above her head, then rolls onto her stomach and smiles up at me, eyes glittering with mischief.
“Mornin’, handsome.”
