Lost in Him Page 5
“And now you’re losing me,” she mumbles.
“Just… thank you.” I grip her upper arm impulsively, then remember we’re not on that level of friendship yet. Note to self: must contain my excitement. “It’s brilliant and reckless and just what I need.”
Her sharp gaze narrows on me. “I might’ve underestimated you, newbie. You’re feisty.”
I clutch a palm to my chest. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Um, wow. I retract my last statement. You’re more of a magical unicorn who poops rainbows.”
“Are you trying to make me melt?” I fan my face with a breathy exhale.
“Greg’s potion is working wonders.” She points at my empty glass. “Another?”
“Sure, we’re celebrating.”
“I’m always down for a good time.” She snatches her fresh drink before Greg can set the glass down. “Cheers to finding whatever you’re searching for.”
A grin slips over my mouth easily. It’s as if she’s reading my mind. “I’ll drink to that. You’ve just given me an advantage in this fight.”
He’ll crack eventually, and now I have the means to get a step or two ahead.
Lydia lets a whistle loose. “Damn, I didn’t realize you’re feuding. Is he your enemy?”
“Only if he insists on it.” But I’ve always been more of an attack with kindness sort of girl.
“Oh, the sex will be explosive.” She mimics her head blowing up. “I’ll be demanding all the dirty details.”
My toes curl in my flip-flops. I can’t picture how that would go, so it’s best not to include it as an option. “That’s not going to happen.”
The guy can’t even look at me for thirty seconds without storming off in an angry rant.
Her laugh is ready to call my bluff. “How else will this end?”
“No clue.” This situation is another unknown for me to cross. I tap my lips, attempting to untangle the snag. “But I’m going to find out.”
I set the next log and prepare to strike. A swift downward arc splits the piece into two. Set, strike, split, repeat. Replenishing the firewood supply takes priority with a guest on site. Penny probably burned through half the stack in her cabin already.
The seamless repetition comes to a screeching halt. I’m supposed to be keeping her far from my mind. A foul curse reinforces my resolve.
By some miracle, we’ve managed to maintain our distance over the past few days. That doesn’t mean my thoughts don’t stray to her at every available moment. Rune’s constant insistence to visit our neighbor only aggravates the situation.
The hellhound in mention is gnawing away at his bone, only pausing to implore me with those mismatched eyes, seeking the truth I’m trying to evade. Or maybe it’s my imagination. Most likely the latter.
These meddling distractions are precisely why I startle from the vibration in my pocket. Email notifications are rare. Even more so after filtering customer order alerts through my website.
I grab the discarded rag and wipe my brow, the axe dropping to the dirt with a soft thump. The debris coating my hands is a lost cause. With a harsh tug, the phone rests in my calloused palm. A single swipe and the message appears—prim and proper.
From: Penny Blaire
To: Timbered Forest
Today at 11:39 AM
Subject: Please advise
Dear Mr. Hudson,
I wanted to bring an urgent matter to your attention.
I’ve spotted a strange man in the woods on several occasions. He won’t acknowledge me or answer simple questions regarding his identity. I’m afraid he’s lost or something.
If I’m being honest, I’m also worried for my safety. It’s already a risk staying way out here in the middle of nowhere alone.
Can you please provide reassurance that this man isn’t going to cause me harm?
Eagerly awaiting your response,
Penny Blaire (Monroe lodge tenant)
I like to consider myself a fairly level-headed guy. At least, under normal circumstances. Whatever that means. But it’s definitely not this.
The words glowing on my screen are tinted with a red hue as my blood sets to a boil. She’s claiming that I’m a potential danger. A threat that requires management to get involved. The sheer audacity shreds what remains of my pride. As if she weren’t causing enough problems already.
My fingers are a furious blur as I type a response.
From: Timbered Forest
To: Penny Blaire
Today at 11:41 AM
Subject: Re: Please advise
Ms. Blaire,
Your concern is noted, but unnecessary.
I’m familiar with the man you saw. He’s not a problem for you to think twice about.
Enjoy your stay in the Monroe lodge.
Nash Hudson
Owner of Timbered Forest Lodges
Her reply is almost instantaneous. As if she was ready and waiting for my response to come through.
From: Penny Blaire
To: Timbered Forest
Today at 11:42 AM
Subject: Re: Re: Please advise
Mr. Hudson,
How do you know it’s the same guy? Also, how can you be certain he’s not a threat?
No offense, but your word—by email—doesn’t put me at ease.
On the edge of my seat,
Penny Blaire (Monroe lodge tenant)
A cramp seizes my lungs as I read her refusal to cooperate. I’m spitting fire while my fingers set to typing a response.
From: Timbered Forest
To: Penny Blaire
Today at 11:44 AM
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Please advise
Ms. Blaire,
If you’re this upset about meeting a person out here in the middle of nowhere on your own, perhaps you should find a vacation resort more suitable to your liking.
I’ll waive the early cancelation fee.
Best of luck at your next stop.
Nash Hudson
Owner of Timbered Forest Lodges
The whoosh that dares me to hit send is like a punch to my solar plexus. This could be a premature end to months of torture and agony. If she accepts the offer to leave, I’ll return to my solitude as desired.
Numbness filters in, familiar and cold.
I don’t want to admit that Penny’s presence has been a welcome reprieve from the vast loneliness. She’ll leave eventually. Might as well be sooner rather than later. It’s for the best, dammit.
But the hollow pang spreads faster across my chest.
Relief is a stark and disturbing beast when the phone vibrates in my palm.
From: Penny Blaire
To: Timbered Forest
Today at 11:47 AM
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Please advise
Are you trying to get rid of me, Mr. Hudson?
From: Timbered Forest
To: Penny Blaire
Today at 11:48 AM
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Please advise
Not at all, Ms. Blaire.
Feel free to do what you believe is best.
Your comfort should come first.
Let me know what you decide.
Nash Hudson
Owner of Timbered Forest Lodges
From: Penny Blaire
To: Timbered Forest
Today at 11:50 AM
Subject: Skip the formalities
If my comfort is important, you won’t mind telling me about the stranger in the woods.
Who is he? Why won’t he talk to me?
I don’t want to be insensitive. Just hoping to understand.
The air whizzes from me in a deflating hiss. Revealing my true identity wasn’t part of the
plan. All I wanted was to stay out of sight and complete the property management duties as required. She’s asking too much, yet barely anything at all.
Genuine compassion bleeds from her curiosity, demanding as she might be. Trust in her arrives
too easily all the same.
A clenching knot attempts to suffocate me as I prepare my confession.
From: Timbered Forest
To: Penny Blaire
Today at 11:53 AM
Subject: Re: Skip the formalities
The man in the woods is me.
I choose to speak when there’s a reason worthy of doing so.
From: Penny Blaire
To: Timbered Forest
Today at 11:55 AM
Subject: Re: Re: Skip the formalities
Should I be offended? Maybe. I’ll let it slide for now.
Thanks for your honesty.
Also, can I have your phone number?
The request gives me pause. I stare at the words, my pulse thrumming a feverish beat. Gut instinct declares I should reject her outright, but this compelling interest in her still holds me hostage.
From: Timbered Forest
To: Penny Blaire
Today at 11:58 AM
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Skip the formalities
Why?
From: Penny Blaire
To: Timbered Forest
Today at 11:59 AM
Subject: This is obnoxious
Exchanging emails is old-fashioned and time-consuming.
Texting is much faster.
Or, if you prefer, we can try Snapchat.
I choke while reading that last option. As if I’d be connected on social media. That defeats the purpose of going off-grid. Not that I expect her to know that.
From: Timbered Forest
To: Penny Blaire
Today at 12:01 PM
Subject: Re: This is obnoxious
Texting isn’t necessary.
Any requests you have can be sent here.
I’ll respond at my earliest convenience.
From: Penny Blaire
To: Timbered Forest
Today at 12:02 PM
Subject: Seriously?
Why can’t I have your phone number?
The relentless prodding against my well-established boundaries sets me into motion. I pace along the gravel path. Leaves and twigs crunch under my agitated stride. It’s been years since I’ve sent a text. There’s no point in forming the habit again.
With a refusal blazing in my veins, I stab at the screen with a curt reply.
From: Timbered Forest
To: Penny Blaire
Today at 12:04 PM
Subject: Re: Seriously?
It’s personal.
From: Penny Blaire
To: Timbered Forest
Today at 12:05 PM
Subject: I repeat, seriously?
More personal than me renting your cabin?
From: Timbered Forest
To: Penny Blaire
Today at 12:06 PM
Subject: Re: I repeat, seriously?
Yes.
From: Penny Blaire
To: Timbered Forest
Today at 12:07 PM
Subject: Be creative.
I don’t get why it’s such a big deal.
From: Timbered Forest
To: Penny Blaire
Today at 12:08 PM
Subject: That’s the problem.
You wouldn’t, so don’t bother trying.
I refresh after a frozen minute. No response appears in my inbox. My gaze is glued to the screen like a fiend in desperate need of a fix. I wait, bated breath locked in my lungs. Only silence finds me.
Maybe I’ve chased her off. I should be relieved, but bitter resentment finds me.
Not directed at her.
No. That’s solely for me.
For a few minutes, I almost felt connected to someone again.
The stillness yawns and stretches, as it should. As it has since I arrived in this isolated location. I’m alone on purpose. This is my choice, how it’s meant to be.
But the longing sneaks in while my guard is lowered.
The soulful yearning for compassion and comfort from another. The very desire I’ve tried to ignore. I was doing just fine until Penny Blaire barged in without warning. She’s left me exposed. Vulnerable to the crater gouged into my chest.
I’m slowly dragged back into the dark caverns where I belong.
Where nobody else dares to enter.
Fuck that.
Mushy sentiments and endless devotion blend into nonsensical jargon as my mind drifts once again. Not even my favorite romance novel can hold my attention. With a huff steeped in frustration, I toss the book aside and search for a different distraction.
I glare at my phone, as if the device is personally responsible for this ache. Nash hurt my feelings. The assumption that I can’t empathize with or comprehend his preference for extreme privacy has left me sore and raw. Following close behind is guilt thick enough to chew on. I rub at the heavy force rooted in my chest.
Maybe I was too pushy. Selfish and stubborn. But dammit, he kept responding. Flinging barbs just as sharp and quick. It felt like an even match. The conversation flowed with our digital sparring. Until he tacked on that nasty retort as a final blow.
The more I think about our exchange, I realize my actions might’ve been inappropriate. Brash and forward while I was aiming for playful and witty. I don’t know this man. He’s a stranger. There’s an explanation for why he’s out here alone, perfectly fine not talking to anyone. One I’m not allowed to pry at. That’s his secret to keep.
My knee bounces to a distressed tempo. I need a change of scenery. The dog shelter isn’t far from here. It could be a quick visit, just to see if I bond with any available pooches up for adoption. I don’t have to bring one home. Yet. That option has appeal enough to lift my butt off the couch.
As I’m searching for my keys, a telltale chime attempts to send me off track. I try to resist. I really do. But the temptation is too strong. Besides, delayed gratification isn’t nearly as satisfying. A haughty laugh trips from me as I scoop my phone off the coffee table. That opinion is coming from the girl with zero sexual experience. Real valuable.
The notification glows on the screen and gets my heart thumping.
From: Timbered Forest
To: Penny Blaire
Today at 1:17 PM
Subject: In case of emergency
612-555-0164
And cue the giddy flutters. I press a hand to my warm cheek. It’s silly to be this excited about a phone number, but I’ve never done this before. Just text a man for the thrill of it.
And that makes me sound like a sheltered loser.
Guilty as charged.
I create a new contact, storing him under Thorn. More zippy glee shoots through me and I grin. Then my fingers are flying with a sugary sweet reply.
Me: You’re forgiven.
My thumbnail is lodged between my teeth while waiting for the three little dots to appear. Nash doesn’t leave me hanging for more than twenty seconds.
Thorn: I wasn’t aware I needed forgiving.
Me: No? Then why did you cave?
Thorn: I didn’t cave.
Me: I’m texting you, aren’t I?
There’s a pause, long enough to get my foot tapping. I’m probably overstepping again. Just as I’m about to pocket my phone, he adds to the thread.
Thorn: So it seems.
Me: And you’re responding. Willingly, I might add.
Thorn: You’re staying in a cabin on my property. That implies your well-being is somewhat my responsibility.
A visual of him caring for me—in multiple forms—springs forward. More belly swoops soon follow. I nibble at the smile curving my lips. His response gives me an idea. Goading him is just too much fun. More so, I want to keep him talking.
Me: Do you employ a tour guide?
Thorn: No.
Me: Can you recommend someone in town?
Thorn: No.
The prickles are extra pointy this afternoon. Too bad for him and his bristly armor. I’m not afraid to get poked.
Me: How about someone not from town?
Thorn: No.
Me: That’s unfortunate. I often find myself lost while hiking and exploring. It would be helpful to walk the paths with someone familiar with the area.
Thorn: Get a map.
A snort spews from me. Chivalry is lost on this one. He might be, quite simply, the greatest challenge I’ve met. Good thing I set off on this adventure to conquer the unknown.
Me: I don’t think a detailed layout of the area exists, unless you made one. This is your land, right?
Thorn: Just stay on the trails. They’re properly marked.
Me: Will I find my way in the dark?
Thorn: If you bring a flashlight.
Me: Why are you being so difficult?
Thorn: Not sure what you mean by that. I’ve answered all your questions.
Me: Without providing a decent solution. Do you want me to get lost? Ambushed? Meander off in the wrong direction until I reach the Canadian border? Attacked by a bear? Any harm that comes my way will rest on your conscience. Are you prepared for that?
A lull hangs in the balance after I send that babbled rant. He’s most likely chewing on a proper response to put me in my place. I’m being a diva on purpose, of course. Traversing in the woods—especially during the day—doesn’t scare me. Not after staring down the barrel of my future shackled to a monster like Nathaniel.
But Nash doesn’t know that. It serves him right for not coming with a warning label. In truth, I’m doing him a favor. Troublesome renters won’t appear like such a hardship once I’ve moved on.
Besides, if Nash didn’t want to deal with me, he wouldn’t have sent his number.
Thorn: What do you expect me to do?