He deflated, but there was still a little smile on his face. “You thought it was romantic.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“For a second you did. Just like you think this little tryst is romantic.”
“Is that what this is, a tryst?”
“It’s going to be private, it’s going to be romantic, and we are lovers, so yes, I’d say this is the very definition of a tryst.”
“I’m just glad there won’t be any more brochures.”
“You liked those too. Plus, I was very subtle.”
“You taped them to the bathroom mirror.”
“Yeah.”
“You left them all over the refrigerator.”
“Yeah.”
“You left theminthe refrigerator.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“No.” I took a sip of coffee, then said, “Yes.”
“Good. Now look for our turn off. The owners said they’d stick an orange traffic cone on either side of the road.”
I peered into the falling snow. It was almost dark, and the clouds made it darker. The towering ponderosa and jack pines were smothered in white, their branches drooping heavily from the weight of the snow. There were several vehicles in front of us: three eighteen wheelers trying to get their deliveries through, a truck like the one we were in, and one tiny compact that was tailgating the snowplow.
Oregon was a state of mountains and ranges and hills and canyons. When snow hit, and hit hard, the roads were dangerous enough that the passes were closed a few times a year.
“What if we get snowed in?” I asked.
“Extra vacation days? Think you can handle it?”
Yeah, I thought I could. It might take me a few days to let go of being the go-to problem solver, but I was determined to relax, really relax, even if it killed me.
“There.” I pointed at the turn off, and Ryder tapped the brakes, bringing our already slow progress to a crawl.
He guided the truck into the turn, and we quickly left the narrow four-lane highway behind. The jack and ponderosa pines here were closer to the skinny two-lane road. Snow had piled outward from each shoulder, narrowing the road even further.
“How will we know our place?” I asked.
“It’s a few miles in, after a little bridge.”
A few miles took a lot longer at the speed we were going, but we finally crossed the bridge.
The little cabin was a gorgeous, compact A-frame made of big, beautiful old logs. The porch was tucked out of the weather and had a lovely hand-carved bench beside the door.
“This is it!” Ryder pulled the truck alongside the cabin. “What do you think?”
His eyes were bright with excitement, and his lips were swollen because he’d been worrying at them during the drive.
All I wanted to do was kiss him and get him in bed. Naked. With me.
“What are you thinking about right now, soon-to-be Mrs. Bailey-Reed?” he asked.
