But life didn’t work like that. The most I could expect was a one-night stand followed by an awkward morning after. Although he’d make for somegreatvacation memories.
Even though I didn’t normally do one-night stands, with this man I might be open to it. He wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met before, and I was slightly intoxicated by his presence.
A crack of thunder split the air outside, so loud and sudden that I jumped and grabbed his arm without thinking.
The storm had been building for a while, but now it seemed to unleash all at once, rain hammering against the cabin roof.
“Hey,” Jameson’s voice was calm and steady. “Hey, look at me.”
I forced my eyes up to meet his, my heart pounding in my chest. Another boom of thunder rolled through the mountains, and I flinched.
“It’s just a little sound, like fireworks on the Fourth of July,” he said, pressing my hands between both of his. His fingers were calloused, and something about the solid pressure of his grip made my racing pulse start to slow. “The cabin’s been here for over a hundred years. It’s weathered worse than this. It won’t come down because of a tiny little rainstorm. You’re safe here.”
“I know,” I let out a shaky laugh. “I’m being ridiculous.”
“You’re not,” his thumbs rubbed gently against the backs of my hands. “Storms are intense out here. Nothing like what you get in the city.”
I nodded, focusing on the steady rhythm of his touch. Warmth radiated from his bare skin, and my hands felt warmer in an instant.
Thunder rumbled again, but it seemed more distant now, less threatening.
“Better?” he asked.
“Better.”
He released my hands, and I immediately missed his warmth, a tiny shiver rolling through me.
Jameson grabbed one of the wool blankets from the bed and wrapped it around my shoulders before I could protest. Then hecrossed to the wall and lifted down one of the massive bear pelts, spreading it out on the floor in front of the fireplace.
“Come sit while we eat,” he said, settling onto the fur. “It’ll be warmer down here, closer to the fire.”
I lowered myself onto the pelt beside him, hyper-aware of how close we were.
He handed me a tin cup of soup, and our fingers brushed as I took it from him.
“So what brought you all the way out here from Boston?” he asked, stretching his long legs out toward the fire. “There must be closer places to vacation.”
I took a sip of the soup. It was salty and hot. Exactly what I needed.
“This is a funny reason to book a vacation, but I saw a comment on a travel forum,” I shrugged. “A woman named Nicole said they found the love of their life at the Whispering Ridge Cabins here on Red Oak Mountain. She wrote quite a tale about it. I thought…” I shook my head, laughing at myself. “I don’t know what I thought. That the magic would rub off on me, maybe.”
Nicole had married a man named Graham, who’d been doing handyman work on her rental unit the night she came to town. She said she’d almost accidentally killed him with a bottle of wine when they first met. I wanted to hear her whole story.
“Did the magic work?” he asked, firelight dancing across his features.
He had what looked like genuine curiosity in his eyes, and something in my chest cracked open. “I don’t think so. I haven’t run into any handymen yet,” I joked. “Although the cabin rental is lovely. And Red Oak Mountain is beautiful, too.”
“Too bad. I guess you can’t believe everything people write online.”
“It was still worth coming. I didn’treallythink I’d meet a man on vacation. I just needed a break. I’m burnt out,” I said between sips of soup. “My job is slowly killing me, and I just got out of a two-year relationship that I thought was heading somewhere. But come to find out, I’m pretty sure I was just a convenient Friday night hookup for that man.”
“Ouch. That’s tough.”
Sighing, I admitted, “I’m thirty-four years old and I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. Honestly, I’m on the verge of quitting my job and joining a nunnery.”
Jameson snorted. “You don’t strike me as the nunnery type.”
“No?” I raised an eyebrow. “What type do I strike you as?”
