The guy was an incredible chef, and most nights when he was here at the resort, he cooked. When he cooked, it wasn’t basic stuff, but five-star, gourmet meals.
Was it any wonder he was feeling spoiled?
Although, that was going to be coming to an end—sort of—soon. Next month, Connor was going to be moving his daughter here with him to Harbortown, and they were probably going to be renting a house in town. If they found a place that Connor deemed livable. That was something Axel was planning on doing down the road, but for now, as long as no one minded him living in one of the cabins, he’d love to save some money for a little longer.
And the cabin wasn’t bad.
Not really.
It was a one-bedroom, one-bathroom space with a small living room/kitchen combo. He did all the renovations on it himself and was very pleased with the outcome.
Was it ideal long-term? No. But for now, he was fine with it.
One of the best parts about living at the resort? There was always someone around. Granted, most days almost everyone was gone by five, but then one of the guys was always staying on the property. It was rare for him to be the only one here, and it looked like that was the way it was going to be this weekend.
He told himself it was fine; after all, he was used to being alone. He’d grown up in foster care, and even though he lucked out with the family he lived with, he still spent a lot of time on his own. Solitude was the norm.
But it was something he would love to change.
Someday, he thought with a sigh.
For now, he wasn’t going to think about it. He was going to run into town and grab some groceries and a few other necessities before settling in for a stormy weekend in his cabin.
After grabbing a handful of chocolate chip cookies, Axel checked the weather app on his phone. If the rain was still a few hours out, he would take his motorcycle into town. He loved driving on the winding mountain roads. But if the storms were close, he’d play it safe and take his pickup.
And…
“Pickup it is,” he murmured, feeling disappointed. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry, right?
Locking up the lodge, he jogged down to the parking lot and paused to take a look around. It never ceased to amaze him how proud he was of the place and the transformation it was going through. He’d loved the resort as a kid—and he adored Walker’s grandparents—but they had really let the place get into a state of disrepair that was almost too much to overcome. But they had been putting in long hours for months now, and he was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.
“Finally.”
Climbing into the truck, he briefly second-guessed himself. Should he stay a little longer and wait for the designer or should he say screw it and do what he needed to do?
“Screw it.” Like Connor said, she was over an hour late, so clearly that meant she didn’t want the job, so why should he keep waiting around?
And with that, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed into town.
It was rare to see other cars out this way. The Lakeview Harbor Resort was pretty much the last thing on this particular road, and anyone driving down this far was typically going to the resort. But about a mile away, he spotted an old pickup truck—older than his—on the side of the road. He slowed down but didn’t see anyone in it and figured that whoever got stuck must have gotten a ride into town for help.
Either that or he’d see them walking there.
But by the time he hit the small downtown area, he didn’t see anyone walking and decided that it wasn’t any of his business. He had shopping to do.
At the grocery store, he saw a few familiar faces—Swati from the real estate office, Pat from the day spa, and Mr. Reed, who owned the bookstore. They all smiled and waved, but it looked like everyone was trying to get their groceries before the storm hit. He bought himself a couple of steaks and knew he’d gladly trudge back and forth from his cabin to the lodge because the kitchen in the lodge was superior to the small one in his cabin. There was a frozen version of a sweet potato casserole, and he grabbed it, and the small bakery department had an apple pie, so he picked one and then happily strolled back over to the frozen food aisle to grab some vanilla ice cream.
Maybe his solitude wouldn’t be so bad after all.
The rest of his shopping cart looked like a ten-year-old was buying groceries—lots of snacks, frozen pizzas, and sodas. There wasn’t a vegetable in sight.
At the checkout, he even grabbed several candy bars and grinned when old Mrs. Bentley—and yes, that’s what it said on her name tag—shook her finger at him.
“You are a grown man, Axel,” she gently chided. “This is no way for a grown man to eat! You need to find a nice girl and settle down or learn to cook!”
He didn’t take offense.
“Aww now, Mrs. Bentley, you know you’d be brokenhearted if I settled down,” he teased.
