I sent him off with a wave. “Bring me home a hamburger.”
He stuck his head back inside the door. “Still no mustard?”
I met his amused gaze in surprise. My heart lurched—my body warmed. How could he have remembered that tiny detail about me? There were many Friday nights where Matt and our group would grab hamburgers, but I hadn’t realized my mustard fetish would be something someone would remember.
Then he winked and said, “bye, Penny.”
The door closed before I could say anything else, leaving me feeling funny, flattered, warm, like I didn’t want him to leave, and just a tiny bit confused by that wink.
Chapter 7
Blast it.
That dang wink completely ruined the productive afternoon I had planned. Instead of typing furiously for my book, I found myself re-playing the wink and the mustard comment a thousand times. Each time the daydreams got a bit more farfetched. The last ended with a kiss, and that’s when I jumped up from the couch to do a few laps around the cramped cabin and grab a glass of water. Mercy. It couldn’t have been that long since a man had shown me attention. It was literally the tiniest amount of attention ever, and I was playing it in my mind like I had just been given the crown jewels.
I brought my thoughts around to my last boyfriend, Conner. It had ended about three months ago—mostly on the basis of my roommate Connie, who told us we had the chemistry and excitement of a rock. Conner, who was a Geology professor at our local community college, had been flattered. I broke up with him the very next day. Honestly, other than my grocery budget lasting longer, and the fact that my evenings were spent watching TV by myself, I hadn’t noticed much difference in my life without him.
It occurred to me that none of the breakups in my life had been devastating. At least not for me. Certainly no man I went out with had ever thought to wink at me. I didn’t even know winking was still a thing. Was it?
Had every guy I dated been so vanilla? This idea was hitting me hard enough that I had to sit down. Conner, Trevor, Greg… all of them were nice, quiet, smart, safe—boring. Mostly great qualities, probably why I was drawn to them. All of them were very active in their careers—each in some sort of scientific type profession that I could never speak to them about, because I understood nothing they would tell me. We would have nice evenings out every once in a while, chuckle over our days together, and probably would have led a pleasant existence if something had ever worked out.
But what I couldn’t understand was why I had dated virtually the same type of man since high school. I had always been confused and would roll my eyes at the over-dramatic way roommates and friends would break up, or get broken up with. So much angst, crying, and emotional drama. I had no experience with that. Every breakup of mine seemed more like parting ways from a business deal than having any sort of emotional effect.
Had I been attracted to any of them? Yes. No? Maybe? They were each handsome enough in their own right. I was never embarrassed to be seen with them. Each of them adequate, if a bit reserved in the social department, but I never felt their presence in a room. I knew they were there, but I neverfeltthem there.
The last few days living with Chase had been super charged withhim. I knew where he was at all times. Not in a creepy way, but in a way that kept me on edge. I was both nervous and excited to see Chase whenever he appeared, even though I played it cool. When we sat near each other on the couch, I was aware of every movement. Anytime our skin made contact, the touch had charged through my body.
Was that what being attracted to someone felt like?
Goodness, it was exhausting to not be able to concentrate all day long. Even when he wasn’t there, I was still obsessing over the tiniest bit of nothing. Granted, it was hard not tofeelhim there. One of his long-sleeved shirts lay flung over the couch. The fishing gear he hadn’t needed sat haphazardly on the table and partially on one of the kitchen chairs.
Throughout all my productive writing time, I had imagined Hallmark movie scenarios in my head, where we’d be doing dishes together, our fingertips brushing in the water. Or playing another round of poker, but onlynotthe version where we were puttingonclothes. Alright, I’m kidding. I only got as far as him taking off hisshirt. I forced my daydreams to stop there, but I couldn’t help taking one tiny second more to dwell on those abs. Or even him just looking over at me with his teasing eyes and a smart-alec grin. That one stopped me in my tracks. The teasing eyes were my favorite part of Chase, I realized. None of my other boyfriends had teasing eyes. Kind eyes, which were also important, but not teasing.
I hated the teasing. Didn’t I? I sure thought I did in high school but, deep down, wasn’t Chase the reason I re-adjusted my makeup before every Friday night hang out? The few nights he wasn’t there, I usually went to bed early.
The clock on the wall read 4pm. No wonder I was feeling hungry. Restless. I reached into the fridge, about to steal just one egg, when I whirled around and looked again at the clock. 4pm. Chase had left at noon. He mentioned he’d be back in two hours. He was two hours late. How could I have missed that? I raced to the small kitchen window, looking out toward the lake, hidden by a cluster of trees next to the cabin. The sun had already set past the mountains, and darkness would soon be settling in. Only one set of tracks were visible, leading toward the lake.
I looked again at the clock, willing it to turn itself back to the appropriate time. Should I go look for him? What if something happened? What if he slipped through the ice? My heart was pounding as I rushed over to the coat rack and flung my arms through the sleeves. I was just reaching for my boots when I stopped. What if Chase was completely fine? He probably just lost track of time. The man came out all this way to fish, he obviously knew what he was doing. If I came rushing out there to find him, I wouldneverhear the end of it. The thought of his teasing alone was enough to redden my cheeks and caused me to shrug out of my coat. He was probably fine. I would give it another few minutes and then re-evaluate.
I marched back to the couch and sat down. My feet tapped against the floor. The tick of the clock sounded through the cabin like a drum. My fingers itched for something to do. I glanced around and picked up the Louis LaMour book Chase had been reading the day before. Great. I would read a book, relax for a bit while I waited for Chase to come back. Not that I was waiting for him, I was just… taking a break. He was only a couple hours late. Not a big deal on the mountain. Time didn’t matter much up here. I opened the book to the first page and did my finest attempt at reading. It would be dark soon, so he would definitely be heading back any minute. I didn’t need to worry. I re-read the first line of the book.
It would be dark soon.
Which meant if Chase was in trouble I had only a small window of daylight left to find him. I turned around to stare at the back door, begging it to open. When it didn’t, I stood up. My heart began to pound so loud I could hear it in my eardrum. Teasing or no, there was no kidding myself any longer. I had to find Chase. I stuffed my feet in my snow boots and grabbed a beanie, slipping it over my hair before yanking open the door and stepping outside.
The snow came down in big flakes as I attempted to step into Chase’s partially covered boot tracks in the snow. My eyes scanned through the trees for any sign of him. I made my feet walk when I wanted to run. I couldn’t afford to slip and break an ankle. When I made it past the trees and into the clearing before the lake, I called out Chase’s name. When I didn’t hear anything, I looked down and found his tracks on the south side and followed them around the base of the lake, calling his name as I went.
Inwardly, I was panicking, but I was trying to talk my mind out of a full hysteria. He just lost track of time. He was probably just kidding about the two-hour thing. I’m sure he was used to staying out all day, and I was going to look like a crazy person when I found him.
My foot caught on a root sprawled across the length of the pathway, hidden by the fresh snow, and I went sprawling, landing on my hands and knees with a hard thud. I hadn’t taken the time to find gloves before leaving the cabin, and now my hands were red with scratches from my fall. I stood on shaky legs, brushing off the snow, my eyes constantly in motion, when I saw something. Through the trees, Chase stood, minding a pole about two hundred yards away. Relief flooded out of my body in the form of a sigh. Once my breath was spent, anger and annoyance quickly replaced it. Why wasn’t he responding? Didn’t he hear me calling?
From where I stood, the trail seemed to diverge, with a small split leading toward Chase onto the ice. Although it was difficult to tell with the snow piling up so quickly, there were definite footprints along the new path. They had to be Chase’s. Calling to him again with still no answer, I gritted my teeth and began to make my way toward him. Stepping out of the clearing, I took a few hesitant steps onto the ice and snow-covered lake. Chase’s back was still turned away from me. Slowly, I made my way toward him, testing each step before adding my full weight. Halfway toward Chase, I stopped when the ice below my feet began popping. I held myself still, afraid to take another step.
I yelled his name once more. This time, Chase turned toward me, startling when he saw me. He yanked out his ear buds, dropping them to the ground.
“Blister, what are you doing out here?”
My body stood, paralyzed from fear. I began speaking too loud and too fast, all at once. “It’s after four. You left at noon. You told me to come find you after two hours. The ice is popping right here—should it be doing that?”