I tell myself not to look back again, but I do anyway.
Her eyes are fixed on the ground, brow furrowed in concentration. She’s out of place here, there’s no question about that.
But she’s trying. I’ll give her that.
The little guest cabin comes into view behind a row of pine trees that had been planted when we were children.
“Here we are,” I say, climbing the steps first. “Watch the porch. The wood gets slick when it’s wet.”
She slips again halfway up. I catch her elbow on instinct. Her gloved hand lands against my chest, and I feel that same jolt all over again.
Kali looks up at me with a small smile. “You weren’t kidding.”
“I usually don’t,” I say. “Not where safety’s concerned.” I hold her steady until her boots are flat on the boards. “The ranch can be a dangerous place.”
She looks like she wants to say something, but presses her lips together instead.
The air hums between us a beat too long before I step back and open the door. “You should be comfortable enough in here. There’s electric heat if you don’t want to fuss with the stove.” I wave my arm toward the fireplace. “Of course, if there’s a power outage, you’re going to want it.”
She steps into the newly painted and cleaned-up space before turning back to look at me in surprise. “A power outage?”
“Yeah.” I try and fail to hide my smile. “You know, it’s where the power goes out.”
“That happens?”
I can’t help it, I laugh out loud. “You’ve not been out of the city much, have you?”
She shakes her head a little. “It’s not usually something we have to worry about in Vancouver.”
“Right.” I swallow down the rest of my laughter. “Well, if it does happen, don’t worry. I’ll come and light your fire for you.”
I realize a moment too late how my words sound, but if she notices, she doesn’t say anything.
“It’s cute,” she says instead, turning in a slow circle, taking in her surroundings.
There’s a little kitchen area in one corner, with a small fridge, sink, and coffee maker. A bathroom in the other back corner, a queen-sized bed against the back wall, a desk under the window, and a small couch in front of the fireplace.
Anna did a great job with the finishing details after Wyatt, and I cleaned out the junk.
“If you need anything, the main house is right there. The door is never locked.”
She raises her eyebrows at that, no doubt another thing she’s not used to.
“Wyatt and I will pull your rental out of the snow bank as soon as we can so you can get going.”
“Going?”
“Back to the city,” I say, rougher than I mean to.
Her eyes spark with my unspoken challenge. “I’m not leaving, Cash,” she says. “Not until I get this story. Wyatt said?—”
“I’m not Wyatt.”
“No,” she says slowly. “You’re not. And you really don’t want to do this interview, do you?”
“Sure don’t.”
“Any particular reason?”
