I exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to my chest. “Jesus, George, you scared me half to death.”
He dropped a stuffed hotdog onto my pillow, then backed up a step, clearly expecting me to engage.
I glanced toward the living room, wondering why I was the morning’s target and not Dean, but the couch was empty. The blankets were neatly folded and stacked on one of the chairs.
Had I really been that out of it? So much that he’d gotten ready and left without my hearing a thing?
Then I looked down, finding my nightshirt twisted to my waist, the sheets kicked to the edge of the bed, and my panties fully exposed for the whole cabin to see.
My head snapped up, eyes darting toward the doorway as if I half-expected Dean to be standing there.
He wasn’t—thank God.
I shifted to the edge of the bed, my bare feet sinking onto the cool floorboards, but the chill came as a sharp contrast to the sudden flush rising up my cheeks.
Had I been like that all night?
This morning when he’d left?
Face down, ass to the world—the way I’d gotten accustomed to sleeping after a decade of living alone.
The thought of him seeing me in such a vulnerable state made my stomach swoop uncomfortably.
I wouldn’t have been the first woman he’d seen in that position—though that thought wasn’t comforting at all. Because it wasn’t the idea of him seeing a woman that bothered me. It was the fact that that woman had beenmethat lit every cell in my body on fire.
What was worse… I didn’t know if the heat growing inside me came entirely from embarrassment.
“Get over yourself, Em,” I muttered. “Even if he did see you, he probably didn’t give you a second glance.”
But then my mind traveled back to the way he’d looked at me last night. To the heat in his expression, the tension so thick between us you could have cut it with a knife.
I shoved the thought aside and reached for my cell from the bedside table—7:55 a.m.
What in the world was he doing up this early?
I shook the thought from my mind because it was none of my business. The less time I spent worrying about Dean Weston, the better.
I swiped open my email, but the wheel only spun and spun, until the “No Service” notification blinked across my Home Screen.
“Shit,” I muttered, pushing myself off the bed. There was a lodge directory on the table, and I hurried toward it, flipping through the few pages, searching for the Wi-Fi password. I got all the way through it and found nothing.
“Strange,” I whispered, even as a sinking feeling settled in my gut.
I picked up the phone from the cradle, placed it to my ear and pressed the button for the front desk.
The phone rang several times before a woman answered. “This is Brittney. How can I help you?”
Relief loosened my shoulders. “Hi Brittney, I’m a guest in one of the cabins, and I can’t seem to locate the Wi-Fi password. Can you help me?”
There was a long pause before she answered. “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t have Wi-Fi available in our cabins.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course they didn’t. “Okay… Well, can you give me directions to the business center? I just need to send an email, it's very important?—”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but there’s actually no internet anywhere on the resort,” she cut me off. “I thought everyone knew that. The family comes here to unplug. To recharge?—”
But I stopped listening because my head was spinning. No Wi-Fi? No cell service? What kind of place was this? Then I remembered Dean and Thomas’ conversation at the party. About the gas station down the road being the only place with cell service.
“It’s okay. Thank you for your time.” I hung up the phone without waiting for her answer.
