Page 22 of When I Fall In Love

“Hunter,” she huffs. “Stop being thick. The cottage—your cottage.”

It’s Bob’s. When Bob arrived in Ashleigh Lake, us Logan kids had been at Brodie Farm only a few months. He hiked in one day, mute. We were newbies at the same time and maybe for that reason forged a deeper connection. He’s been in Ashleigh Lake so long, he’s part of the landscape now. Although he’s taken to speaking again, nobody has ever lured his past out of him. For some, he’s a nutcase, but he is harmless and the whole town has taken it upon themselves to care for him. As soon as the weather turns, the old man moves in and stays until spring. That’s been our arrangement for years and I can’t keep Bob out on the streets when temperatures dip to zero, which they could at any time soon.

“It’s only up for rental in the summer—”

“We’ll look after Bob, I promise. Surely you can make an exception this one time?”

And have Beth on my doorstep for seven days? I drop my gaze, having a hard time digesting the possibility of seeing Beth again, next door, within a stone’s throw from my own deck. I’ve been having sleepless nights and half of them aren’t related to my business crises at all. Nope. I’ve been waking up each morning with a raging hard-on. That’s no good. It shouldn’t be on. I mean—for fuck’s sake. And that because of one innocent hug. More than a week ago now. But this is the problem with Beth. She crawled under my skin ages ago and now it’s clear she never left. I knew this, but I never knew it like this.

“Hunter, I’ve been listening to rumors for years about what happened to her family. I was just a kid then, but Beth coming here… It must mean something. What if she changes her mind and doesn’t sell—”

I break out into a deep, skeptical chuckle. “I saw her a week ago, there’s no chance in hell she’s changing her mind. Ever.” But having her as a neighbor for a week? I can’t even begin to imagine—

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Hunter,” Britt breaks through my ill-timed flash fantasy.

I shrug and mentally punch myself back into the moment. I don’t know what Britt hopes to gain by setting the grapevine on fire with this, because I’d bet a few million—if I had it—that I’m not the first one to be let into state secrets. “We haven’t spoken about this, okay? And I mean it, Britt.”

She bites her lip. “Okay.”

“Tell Jessie she can make my cottage available, but it’s not coming from me and I don’t want to know what happens next. Not when she arrives, not if she arrives, not if she chooses to stay somewhere else. She can’t know that I own the cottage. Got it?”

“Got it, boss. I won’t say a peep.”

Yep. About that. “Let Bob know that my house is open in case we have a serious cold spell over the next few weeks.”

“Consider it done.”

Britt gets up and walks out of my office, barely managing to hide a little skip in her step. I bet she’s congratulating herself on a job well done.

I have no clue what she hopes will happen and only time will tell.

Time I don’t have anymore. With two offers on the table and Beth on her way here to sign on the dotted line, there’s literally two grains of sand left in my hourglass.

Fuck.

10

BETH

The road winds and the GPS tells me to turn right. Sixteen years is a long time to remember turn-offs and landmarks, and it being almost midnight doesn’t help. The lights tunnel through an embrace of branches, leaves igniting in color on the rim of solid black. I can’t wait to wake up and see the splendor first thing in the morning, but for now I just want to get there.

A last-minute cancellation opened up for a cottage which Jessie claimed to be the sweetest spot for me to spend the week. A cottage that’s situated in a small settlement where there are only five other houses a solid distance outside of Ashleigh Lake. Privacy is guaranteed as the other houses aren’t rented out and most of them are vacation homes. Perfect peace and quiet.

Up ahead the road splits in two and the GPS indicates I should stick to the left. About a hundred yards further I spot a glimpse of a house—no, a mansion with that level of driveway—through the trees, but a small sign guides me to the left. My headlights throw beams onto my place. The cutest cottage grabs my heart and squeezes it tight, because with its white cladding and red door shining in the lamplight, it’s like coming home. I pull up and switch off the car and for a moment I just take it all in.

The front door light shines a glow over a decorative collection of pumpkins, welcoming me home. God, Jessie. Just from her voice I can sense she’s had a hand in this. Maybe whoever owns this place likes decorating and traditions and has twenty boxes of seasonal decor in her basement for Christmas alone.

Seasonal decor is far off my radar nowadays, as I live in an apartment with about as much character as the letter L. All slick and modern and magazine-ready for that Max Your Tiny Space with These Helpful Hacks photoshoot. Nobody who spends all hours at work has time or the energy to decorate for fall, Halloween… even for Christmas. That was Mom’s thing and all her beautiful handmade and collected decorations are currently gathering dust in my apartment’s storage locker in the basement.

I open the car door and climb out into the chilly October air, heave out my suitcase, grab my jacket and carry the lot to the door, where I park them while I search my phone for Jessie’s email and the code to get into the cottage.

As I punch in the door code my phone rings. Jana. Yep, already checking in on me, as if she’s scared I’ll ditch my own vacation.

“Hey,” I answer as I clamp my phone between my ear and shoulder.

“How is it? You got there in one piece?”

“Yep, I just arrived. I’m in the mudroom right now,” I say on a chuckle. The next door opens to the perfectly quaint and cute cottage. “Oh my goodness.”

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