Page 51 of Try Me

Iverson’s Cottage

Declan

Mahoe turnedoff the main road onto a gravel drive that wound up into the mountains. Tall koa trees blocked the sky where a full moon had just begun to shine. The air smelled of wet mud and earth blended with a hint of salt from the nearby ocean. The road cut a swatch through thick bushes and overgrown vines that reminded Declan of a Hawaiian fairy-tale book his nanny had read him as a child. He half expected a Hawaiian warrior dressed in full regalia to burst through the dense forest at any moment.

They bumped over tree roots, the roof of the truck scraping under low branches until an iron gate blocked their path.

The truck groaned to a stop, and Mahoe told Declan to open the gate so he could drive through.

“It’s open,” he said. “Just give it a push, yeah?”

Declan got out of the truck and pushed the gate open. Beyond the gate, the land had been cleared on both sides in an attempt to tame the forest. At one time the land had been bush-whacked, but now it needed a trim as badly as Declan had needed a drink on day ten at the rehabilitation center. Desperately.

Dense patches of ferns reached almost to Declan’s thighs. Vines snaked across the gravel road, and shrubs spread their flowers on every surface, refusing to be tamed.

A few feet beyond the front bumper of Mahoe’s truck, the road bent and disappeared into the jungle. Thick clouds of humidity permeated the air, promising a rainstorm.

Declan jogged over to the truck and looked in the window at Pearl. She leaned out, craning her neck to look around at the jungle.

“This gonna be okay with you?” he asked. This was truly the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t another person for miles. The closest town was an hour’s walk. “Maybe we should see if there’s something in town.”

“I didn’t see a Holiday Inn, did you?” She ducked back into the truck and slid over so Declan could get in. “Besides, you’re no Boston Strangler. I trust you.”

It was nice to know that Pearl trusted him, but could he trust himself? It would be a long night in the middle of nowhere with Declan reminding himself every few minutes that Pearl was off-limits. As the truck rattled over the broken road, Pearl swayed into him with every bump. The press of her body against his sent shivers of anticipation down his spine. It was impossible to ignore the undercurrent of attraction that buzzed between them.

The jungle on either side of the road thinned as they climbed steeper into the mountains. The overgrown bushes gave way to ornamental trees and shrubbery. Behind a grove of palm trees, a large white house came into view.

They had built it in the classical Colonial style of wood and stone. Five windows marched across the top story and four more spread over the bottom level surrounding a tall front door. A wide front porch with columns supporting an upper porch welcomed visitors.

“That’s the Iverson place,” Mahoe said as they drove past the mansion. “They only come in summer, yeah?”

Pearl leaned over Declan to stare out the window. “That’s where we’re staying?” she asked.

“Nah,” Mahoe said, driving past the house. “You stay at the caretaker’s house. He’s gone until May, but he keeps it cleaned regular.”

They turned onto a single-lane road that climbed deeper into the forest. The trees grew taller, blocking out the sky, and the only sound was the faraway rush of a river. The road ended in front of a small wooden cabin that looked like it had been plucked straight from a fairytale.

Straight from Declan’s fantasies.

He could easily picture himself living in a remote place just like this, waking up every day to go down to the river to fish, or walk to the beach to surf. He could build a little shed in the back where he would carve surfboards and people would seek him out from miles away to place orders for his handmade creations.

In his fantasy, he wasn’t alone. He had a woman to share it with. She would need to love surfing and Hawaii. Declan focused his attention on Pearl. She fit the bill for the woman of his dreams more than anyone he’d ever met. He could imagine spending more than one night with her in the isolated cabin. His eyes dropped to her full lips. He could picture waking her up with a kiss. They could travel the world together surfing in contests and exploring. He would help her with her fear of flying just like he had on the helicopter.

Pearl tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and Declan’s heart rate skyrocketed. The temperature in the small cab of the truck rose another few degrees as she leaned toward him.

“You getting out or what?” she asked.

Declan realized the truck had stopped. How long had he been sitting there lost in fantasy land?

Pearl stared up at him, probably rethinking her decision. One dark eyebrow raised in question, she cocked her head to the side gazing intently at him, as if she wanted to feel his forehead for fever.

It was unbearably hot in the cab of the truck. The thick humidity of the forest pressed down on them. Pearl’s thigh against his made his blood heat like sand under a scorching mid-day sun.

Declan reached for the handle and pushed open the door. He hopped out of the truck and turned around to give Pearl a hand.

“Careful,” he said. The ground was soft as a sponge and slippery with damp leaves and clinging vines.

A smile tugged at Pearl’s mouth. “I got it,” she said. “Are you okay? I didn’t bring an emergency medical kit.”

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