Maybe there was a double booking, and this guy got here first. It’s a mistake that happens from time to time, I’m sure.
The snort he lets out makes me question if that’s the case. “I’ve owned it the last twenty years, the last time I checked.”
My stomach clenches again in response to his voice. Instead of focusing on the low scratch of each syllable, I should be taking in his words.Twenty years.Not only is he telling me that he’s much older than me, and so out of my league, but this place is his. This isn’t the guy I spoke to online, either. Not even close. I don’t even need to remember the profile picture of the guy to realize it.
Thunder growls at my back, and the rain pelts down even heavier. So loud that I’m forced to pick up my voice. Pulling out my phone, I tap nervously at the device as I try to explain my situation. The screen is wet, just like the rest of me. Without a good signal, everything is loading so slowly, too.
Despite his scowl, he’s patiently waiting for me to get my act together. Though he’s still staring hard. Watching so closely, like he’s searching for a lie to be told. He won’t find much, because under his gaze, there’s no way I could muster up anything but the truth.
“Sorry, I swear, I have it.” Tapping my phone, hoping the loading bar will keep trudging along instead of lingering on the same spot, I hear him grunt in response.
I can’t even lift my eyes away from my phone. Not when I get hit with a swarm of emotions. By now, I should be used to things not going my way.
Willowbrook Ridge was supposed to be a breakaway from all of the bad. One last reckless decision so I can enjoy myself for a week before throwing myself to the wolves. This was supposed to be the fresh air I desperately needed.
By the time my email is finally loaded, I realize his scowl has cut even deeper. Not on my phone, but at me. He’s taking in my panicked expression, his dark brows pinched together. Not wanting to imagine what kind of thoughts he’s thinking, I thrust the device toward him.
“Is this not your cabin?”
His fingers brush against mine to grab my phone, far bigger and more calloused. The tingle I get up my arms is a momentary relief to everything else swarming me. As he peers at the screen, I see the moment he truly gets angry. Behind his gaze, heat flares.
My stupid stomach needs to stop clenching. Now, I can’t tell if it’s because of fear or something else entirely.
“Must’ve been someone who snagged a photo of my place. The inside is all wrong.” He hands my phone back and tells me the exact words I’ve been fearing. “You’ve been scammed, sweetheart.”
Not even the way he purrs the nickname is enough to stop the dread from filling my chest. Scammed? I know I was desperate to get away, but I put my last two paychecks toward this getaway vacation.
“What am I going to do now?” The question leaves me without thinking, and I follow it up with a hushed apology. Technically, this guy doesn’t have anything to do with the mess I’ve mixed myself up with. He’ll have to get the advert taken down, sure, but he’s not the one at a loss.
“They’ve got a lodge a little further up, but…” He takes one look at my mud-caked car before taking in the weather. “You’ll be lucky to keep going uphill at this rate.”
Not that it matters. I’ve got enough chump change to get me through the week for snacks and such, not enough to rent another place.
“Can I just… sit for a second and collect myself? This is a lot.”
My chest feels like it’s going to cave in on itself. Throw in the fact that my eyes won’t stop freaking watering from the pure frustration that’s hitting me. I’m not going to cry. I won’t, because at this point, life’s annoyances and the accompanying bad luck have exhausted me to the point that this should hardly affect me. Must be extra effective since I have an audience.
He steps out of his home and nods. Standing over me by at least a foot, those calloused fingers pinch at my elbow and lead me over to the bench. For him, he swallows up more than half of it. There’s just enough room for me to sit, but not without the occasional brushing up against him.
That sandalwood scent that’s clinging to him is soothing in a way. If I close my eyes and keep breathing him in, I can pretend things are a little different than what they really are.
“I’ll report the account once I get better service.” Murmuring the words, I sit back and watch the rain come down. “You think the rain will stop anytime soon? It was awful getting up here. With my luck, if I try to go back down now, I’ll end up sliding off the path.”
Okay, maybe I will cry. Just a little. I won’t know this man after this, so I don’t need to worry about holding back. Worst case, he’ll have a story to tell his other mountain buddies.
He doesn’t answer at first, his brows still furrowed as he drinks in the same scene. Finally, he sighs. “You paid for a week?” When I nod, his mouth purses. “I’ve got a spare bedroom. Just a small thing for my brother to use when he needs to get away, too. It’s not much, but I can give you a bed to sleep in.”
Blinking, I digest his words. It’s hard to believe them. While I didn’t sign up to be roommates with a man likethis, I’m not thinking straight. My inner voice is shoutingyeswithout really thinking about what he’s offering me. If something sounds too good to be true, there’s always a catch.
“I don’t have anything I can give you. Not money, not really. But I can do other things. Whatever you want, really.” Perking up, I go as far as grabbing one of his hands as another wave of emotions hits me. These are lighter, yet still consuming. “This is…”
I can’t even think of a word.
His throat bobs as I squeeze his fingers before he politely plucks himself free. “You can stay, but I’ve got some rules. Follow them, and there won’t be any problems. Maybe not for an entire week… but until this storm passes. How about it, uh…”
“Tatum.” Sputtering my name and feeling silly that I haven’t already told him, he follows up by giving his name. Abel. “Rules? Got it. Lay them down, and I’ll make it work. Thank you, Abel. Seriously. You’re a lifesaver. You’re amazing. This is…” My lungs swell with air, and I get a little dizzy. Just as I feel one of his hands steady me by grabbing my shoulder, my smile stretches from ear to ear. “Thank you.”
He leaves the bench first, drifting to grab my luggage. Lifting it as if it weighs nothing, he pushes open his door and jerks his chin. “Come in before you catch a cold. Can’t enjoy yourself if you get a fever.”
