“Yeah, well, if you can’t beat them, sleep with them,” I said.
“You’re most welcome to do just that,” Damon said. “We have four nights and no other entertainment.”
It was a detox trip of sorts. We had our phones with us and an alright connection, but the idea was to be available for emergencies only, and to surrender to the wilderness of the area and the warmth of the fire.
It was another thirty minutes before we checked in to our cabin, and Damon left the car in a garage on the edge of the ranch. There were yards and yards of space, trees, bushes, and mounds of snow between each cabin. Ours was built out of dark logs, making me think of some Nordic winter fantasy. It only had one floor, and amber warmth poured out of its windows as we neared it on foot, snowflakes falling and melting on our faces.
Damon had picked up the keys at the long log house where the reception was. There, we had noticed a large dining area and were told about the breakfast times.
Now, as Damon unlocked our cabin, happiness flooded me so swiftly and fully that I wanted to cry. I was being deeply irrational today, and I had to remind myself of that. It was just a trip, and its purpose was to have good sex and nice company away from sneaking around. No more and no less.
The door opened, and warmth embraced me, pulling me inside until I felt like I was standing in heaven. Every detail was cozy, from the large, soft sofa with a chaise lounge to the built-in fireplace, where fire already crackled, with a stack of firewood nearly beneath it. There was a small kitchen on the side, and a dining table with two chairs was positioned near the large windows overlooking the winter scene. A bathroom was at the back, and a hallway led to a small deck behind the cabin with a hot tub. Up in the loft, there was the bed.
“You like it?” Damon asked, pushing the door behind us.
As it clicked shut, silence settled around us, and I turned to him, stepping close enough to put my arms around his body. “I love it. I absolutely love it.”
Damon lifted one corner of his mouth, smiling devilishly, and looked into my eyes. “I knew you would.”
“When did we stop casting curses on one another and start being sweet?” I asked.
“You never know. I might lock you outside when we get out of the tub,” he said. “Gonna make myself a Seth popsicle.”
“That…sounds dirty,” I said, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.
“Andthatis why it’s you here with me and not anyone else,” he said, laughing to himself as he carried our things to a corner and plopped down into the sofa. “God, I love a nice fireplace. Why don’t we always live like this?”
“I could live like this,” I said, coming over and sitting next to him. I casually scooted closer and into the fold of his arm where it rested along the back of the sofa. “It’s always ‘you up?’ and never ‘let’s build a log cabin and make preserves and collect firewood all year long.’”
“Romance is truly dead,” Damon agreed.
My gaze traveled from his warm eyes to the fire in the fireplace. String lights stretched along the walls, lamps hid in various corners, candles burned in brass holders in many places, and the entire cabin smelled like orange peel and cinnamon. The daylight was already draining from the sky as I leaned against Damon, head resting on his shoulder.
A faint reflection of us played in the window. We looked…
We looked like boyfriends.
We looked like we were home, together, only missing a playful cat running around, raising hell. And my heart beat a little faster as the image burned itself into my mind.
Damon leaned in and kissed the top of my head. He did that a lot. At first, I’d thought it was a way to tease me about my height, but then he kept doing it when we were in bed or sitting near each other, and I got used to it.
My hand rested on his chest, moving lower bit by bit until it was on his stomach, and tears burned in my eyes.
He wasn’t breathing either. Poor guy. He had no idea what to do with an irrational hookup, and neither did I. So I got up, mumbled something about washing my hands, and shut myself in the bathroom. My eyes were red-rimmed already, and my breath was shallow as I held back a sob. What the hell was happening to me?
I exhaled slowly, water running in the sink, and splashed my face a few times before I trusted myself to hold on to my senses.
I stepped out of the bathroom and found Damon standing by the window, sniffing like he’d caught a cold. For one moment only, I thought it would be so romantic if he had. We wouldn’t get to do all the fun things we’d planned, but I would take care of him for a few days, make him soup and tea and cut fruit for him and spoon him if he had a fever.
He turned around with a big smile on his face, barely containing the relief that I wasn’t crying or something. We bluffed our way through unpacking our things and putting together a very light cocktail with a splash of white rum and crushed herbs.
Damon turned on the lights on the back porch, although they were low and warm, strung wide above the hot tub, and raisedan eyebrow at me invitingly. “I’m dying to know what it’s like,” he said.
“We can’t have you die,” I said. “I can’t drive.”
“Right, it’s so on-brand to want me to stay alive so you can hitch a ride back, Kane,” he said. “So, you better take off your pants because we’re going out for a dip.”
For no other reason than to maintain some artificial mystery, I went into the bathroom to change into a pair of shorts, feeling like I’d gone mad now that I was stepping out of a warm cabin and into the snow while wearing a little more than nothing.