The dry logs soon caught fire, heating the cabin.
“Thank you,” I said.
He tipped his chin up at me and went back outside.
When it was time to get the bread out, the inside of the cabin was once again warm.
I placed the loaf on the counter and reluctantly turned the oven off, already mourning the loss of the additional heat source. After putting the jacket on that Gunner had packed into his emergency bag before he spirited us away to the woods, I went outside.
The smoke coming from the charcoals was hard to miss, and I wandered over to where Gunner was standing in front of the barbeque.
“Hey,” I said, standing off to the side.
He looked up from turning the meat over. “Hey.”
And that was the entirety of our conversation for the ten minutes I stood outside, watching the meat cook.
* * *
“This tastes delicious,” I said, finishing the last bite of my meat.
I’d gone all out for dinner and even added a candle to the table, deciding to save electricity. The low glow of the fire combined with a full belly lulled me into a happy state. It helped that I didn’t ask what the meat was and couldn’t see what I was eating too clearly.
After moving a few of the tins around, I even found an almost full bottle of whiskey, which meant we had a drink to go with our food.
We didn’t talk much, but what little we said was pleasant. I wondered if he’d had too much to drink to mellow him out this much. We hadn’t had a single disagreement in at least two hours.
After finishing our three-course meal, consisting of a bread appetizer, an entrée of meat, and the whiskey for dessert, we moved to the couch.
I was mesmerized by the flames; the crackling and the smell were oddly soothing. The whiskey was flowing through my veins, making me feel like I was floating on a cloud, encouraging me to lift my head.
“I’m sorry for what happened last time I saw you,” I blurted.
Damn you, whiskey. Why did you go and make me say that?
His dark eyes within a handsome square face locked on mine. They shone with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. And here I thought I was well versed in Gunner-speak. After all, I’d watched him for long enough.
I took another fortifying drink of my whiskey. It was going down smoother with each sip.Oh, screw that, what am I even saying? It still tastes like rat piss even after we’ve finished most of the bottle.
There came a point in a girl’s life when it was time to admit that some alcoholic beverages were better left poured down the sink.
“I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you,” Gunner said, surprising me.
His words encouraged me to forge on. “I was a brat back then, and I’m sorry for locking you in the bathroom. And, you know… for what came after.”
He stood up and took a deep breath, then set his empty glass on the floor. I watched him, mesmerized by the fluidity of his movements. He made everything look like a choreographed dance.
Even his fingers were attractive, tapered and strong. And his movements were sure. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him do anything without absolute confidence. I wondered what that was like. Because I questioned every move I made ten times and then doubted the decision I finally made at least another twenty.
I guess if I was going to apologize, I should do it right. “I put you in a shitty position, and for what it’s worth, I’ve regretted doing it from the moment I set foot in the party.”
He didn’t respond, and the silence stretched on. Why did I have to keep talking? I said what I wanted to say in the hopes of making our time together less tense, but it seemed all I’d accomplished was the opposite.
Great job, Freya. You really made the rest of your stay at Casa del Forest so much more enjoyable.He’d probably forgotten all about the incident. After all, I was just another client to him. And he was a busy guy; he’d have hundreds of clients each year. I was merely a blip on his radar. There and gone.
I got up, ready to hide in the bathroom.
I thought an apology would erase the tension that constantly seemed to be around whenever we were in the same room.
