Standing near my kitchen counter like he belonged there. Not Denise's boyfriend. A stranger.
For half a second, my brain couldn't make sense of the picture. Like I'd walked into the wrong room, the wrong life.
Then my body reacted.
I screamed.
It was not a cute scream. It was not a polite startled noise. It was a full-body, animal panic sound that tore out of me like my lungs had decided we were dying.
The man flinched hard, hands lifting instantly, palms out.
"Sorry, sorry," he blurted, his accent thick and unmistakably Scottish. "I'm—Christ, I'm sorry, miss?—"
"Get out!" I shouted, clutching the towel tighter against my body like it was armor. "Get the hell out of my cabin!"
He looked horrified. "Aye, yes, I will. I thought..."
"You thought what?" My voice shook, but it didn't sound weak. It sounded furious, which was better, that meant I could move. It meant I wasn't frozen.
"I thought this was—" He glanced around like the cabin itself had betrayed him. "Guest quarters. I… I'm sorry. The door was… it was unlocked."
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it hurt.
Unlocked?
It wasn't unlocked.
It couldn't be.
I'd watched it lock.
My brain spun.
"You're lying," I snapped.
"I'm not," he said quickly. "I swear I'm not. I came early and Hank said… someone said..."
"How do you know Hank?" I demanded, stepping forward like I was going to fight him with my towel, which was objectively insane.
His eyes flicked over me and then away so fast it was almost respectful. Like he was trying not to make it worse.
"I don't know Hank," he said. "Not… properly. I met him at the entrance. He told me to wait in the main house down this way. I thought this cabin was… I was trying to find where to wait."
"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice sharp.
He hesitated, like he was trying to choose the safest truth.
"Graham," he said. "My name is Graham. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
I moved toward the front door, keeping my eyes on him.
"Get out," I said again, slower. "Now."
He nodded rapidly. "Yes. Aye. I'm going."
He took a careful step toward the door, like he was afraid a sudden movement would set me off again.
As he passed, I caught a glimpse of him up close. Tall, broad, the kind of build that came from actual labor and not a gym membership. Dark hair falling over eyes that were an unsettling shade of green.
