Page 6 of Ignited By My Mate

“Do you usually rescue stranded tourists?” I ask lightly, trying to ease the weight in the air.

He smiles, slow and crooked. “No. This is a first.”

“Lucky me.”

“You have no idea,” he murmurs.

I glance down at my coke, pretending not to hear the way his voice drops or how my stomach flutters in response. I came here to relax. To reset. Not to fall into some small-town fairy tale with a man who looks like he belongs on a calendar.

But I can’t deny the pull—the gravity of him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask before I can stop myself.

His expression shifts slightly, something softer passing over his face. “Because I want to be.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No,” he agrees. “But it’s the truth.”

I should be wary. I should be planning my exit strategy, checking motel reviews, and calling my assistant to reroute me to a hotel in Asheville. But instead, I’m sitting in a booth across from a stranger who feels like anything but.

“Okay,” I say slowly. “Let’s go see this cabin.”

His smile is quiet but pleased. “Yeah?”

I nod. “Lead the way, fireman.”

He tosses some bills on the table for our food, and we step back out into the sunlight. The heat is thick and golden, the kind that makes your clothes stick to your skin.

I pause beside my car. “I’ll follow you?”

He tilts his head. “You don’t want to ride with me?”

“I’ve seen enough horror movies to know how that ends. Besides, I’ll need my car.”

His smile deepens, and he gives me a mock salute. “Fair enough. I’ll drive slow.”

I climb into my car, watching him walk to his truck in my rearview mirror. My heart is thudding again, and I don’t know if it’s nerves, excitement, or sheer insanity.

But for some reason, I follow him.

And for the first time since I got here, it doesn’t feel like a mistake.

The drive isn’t long. We wind up a quiet road lined with pine trees until the forest opens to a small clearing. A tidy A-frame cabin sits at the center, shaded by tall trees. There’s a porch swing, fresh-cut wood stacked beside the steps, and flower boxes under the windows. It looks like something out of a vacation brochure.

I park and step out, turning in a slow circle.

“This is… stunning.”

Harris smiles as he walks over. “Randy owns the land. He rents it out occasionally, but it’s empty this week.”

“Why hasn’t anyone snatched this place up?”

“It’s off the beaten path. No cell signal. No cable.”

I raise a brow. “Sounds perfect.”

He hands me the key. “It’s yours for the week.”

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