"It's beautiful. I've never seen anything like this before."
"The storms out here get really heavy. I was once trapped here for a month. The roads were washed away, and I had to make my food stores last much longer than I'd planned," I say, remembering how alone it felt to be out here. I don't tell her that it was just after I ran away from my brother's decisions. It was now, recently.
"It must have been pretty lonely?" she asks, turning to look at me with her eyes bright and the soft glimmer of whisky shining in them. I glance at her glass and see she's practically finished the second one, and I top it up higher than the first. It was more than a double shot of whisky. I thought she would nurse it slowly.
I guess her nerves were more frayed than I thought. Well, at least this will help.
I take a long sip of my drink, draining it.
"Can I fill that up for you?" I ask, holding my hand out to take her glass again.
"Sure," she says, smiling. She wiggles up on the sofa, kneeling with her elbows resting on the back of it as she watches me. "What made you buy a cabin in the woods? Was it because of your hobby?" she asks with mischief in her voice.
"My hobby?" I say, confused.
"Yep, the one where you kidnap girls and make them stay with you," she grins.
"I don't… this isn't a hobby. I don't do this regularly," I scoff, laughing and shaking my head.
Nikita shrugs, turning as I head back to the sofa. She flops back onto it and takes the glass from me.
"Do you know what I like doing?" she asks, as though I might.
"I have no idea. Are you going to tell me?"
"I like surfing. Yep. I know. I don't look like a surfer. I got told I was too skinny. Not enough muscle, but I have quite a bit of core strength, you know. People just underestimate me."
She's suddenly chatty and giggling, and I realize the whisky has relaxed her a lot more than I expected it to.
"My brothers aren't surfers. I don't understand why. I mean, we live in Miami for crying out loud. It's the best place to be a surfer. The ocean is right here on our doorstep."
I don't particularly want to talk about her brothers. But I should. I should let her talk as much as she likes about her family because, with her mind softened like it is, she might slip up and give me some of their secrets. Something that will help me in the future.
"If your brothers don't surf, what do they do?" I ask, getting comfortable again.
Nikita rolls her eyes and laughs happily. "They work. It's all they ever do. Actually, Diomid is more fun since he met Angel. Thank goodness. She managed to get him to focus on other things besides work. Work. Work. Are you one of those guys?"
"One of what guys?" I ask, turning to face her more.
She sighs, pulling her mouth to one side and looking wistfully around.
"The ones who don't live life. Who only work. Like it's all that matters."
I'm about to answer her when she giggles, and her cheeks turn rosy red.
"Never mind." She scrunches her nose.
"You don't want to know the answer?" I ask.
"No, I already worked it out," she says dramatically, her words slurring at the edges as she sips at her third whiskey.
"And what is it that you worked out, little rabbit?" I muse.
She gestures around the cabin, a little off balance. Then grins at me.
"This place. Chopping wood all sexy and stuff. And being out here in the woods… "
I clear my throat, realizing she's a lot more affected by the alcohol than I thought she was. She's a serious lightweight. And maybe her adrenaline after the bear encounter has made it even worse.Sexy wood chopping?I chuckle to myself.
