Page 5 of Curvy Cabin Fever
“Handmade by the bakery down the road,” she says proudly. “My cousin owns it. We’ve sold out of the apricot ones, but you have to try those next time. So, where are you staying?”
I sip my latte and groan with delight. “Ridgehaven?” I look up at her and don’t miss the frown that ghosts her brows.
“Ridgehaven? Huh. I thought the guys were there this week.” She shrugs, and I stare at her.
“The guys?” I echo as she shakes her head.
“The owner and his friends,” she explains as the bell above the door jingles, announcing another customer. “Maybe they were just stopping by. Excuse me.”
She flashes me a bright smile and heads to greet the customer who gushes over the infamous croissants, and I add them to my mental shopping list. Maybe I can check out the bakery before I leave. I’dloveto try those for breakfast.
I sip my latte and gaze out the window, eyeing my Jeep. It’s bright orange, not my first choice, but hey, it’s a rental. There aren’t many other cars in the lot, but people are milling around.
Quite the contrast to Denver, anyway. What did Trish say about the owner? That she thought they were around?
I sure hope not. I don’t want to see another soul while I’m here. I need to get my creative juices flowing and get writing again.I stare wistfully out the window as my fingers wrap around my latte, the heavy feeling in my heart returning.
“It’s not working out.”
“We’re not right for each other.”
My ex-boyfriend’s words ricocheted around my fraught mind before the memory of him railing a thin blonde in our bedroom hits me. I swallow, tears stinging the back of my eyes before I squeeze them shut, willing myself to get through it.
Trevor. My Ex.
I can’t even think of his name without feeling nauseous, the prick. Cheating on me was bad enough but with that skinny bitch from work?
That was even worse.
I wince and stare down at the flakes left over from my two croissants. I can’t complain about her being skinny when all I do is eat. I’ve always been this way, though—I eat my emotions. It’s why I’m the size I am and why Trevor went for someone so…different from me.
“Would you like another? One for the road, maybe?” Trish’s voice interrupts my thoughts, and I realize I’ve drained my latte.
See?I eat and drink my emotions. Speaking of which, I’ll need a bottle of wine and some chocolate.
“I’m good, thank you. I’ll get the bill if that’s okay?”
I settle the check and pull my jacket back around me, stepping outside. The temperature has dropped, and my ears sting with the chill.
Jeez, I wasn’t that long in the coffee shop, was I?
I hurry to the little convenience store next door, stocking up on supplies before searching for the bakery.
It’s closed. Dammit.
“I guess I’ll be back tomorrow for some of those croissants,” I say to myself before throwing the bags in the back of the Jeep. I check my map, estimating I have around thirty minutes or so to drive.
I pause, making sure I have everything I need before setting off again. Snow flies at my windscreen, my wipers doing their best to keep my view clear. As I drive away, I can’t help but notice how dark it is. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I notice the little town lights fade away as I follow the winding road into the mountains.
There are no lights on the road, so I flick my headlamps to full beam and drive slowly. The snow is falling heavily now, and I try not to panic as my wipers move at the fastest setting.
“It’s fine, Aria. You’ve got this,” I tell myself, chewing on my lip as the car climbs higher and higher into the darkness. I’m gripping the wheel, my knuckles white, when the headlights finally catch a wooden sign—Welcome to Ridgehaven. The knot in my chest unravels all at once. My shoulders sag, breath loosening like I’ve been holding it for miles. Relief floods through me so fast it’s dizzying.
I’m glad I stopped off in the town now because the snow seems to be getting worse. I intend to spend two weeks alone in a mountain cabin fit for a queen, and I don’t plan to leave once I’m there.It looks like the weather agrees with me.
But maybe I can make an exception for some croissants…
My headlamps guide me down a twisted, narrow road, and I squint into the distance, letting out a breath of relief when the outline of a large mountain cabin comes into view. It’s made of weathered timber and stone and has the beautiful rustic charm that attracted me to it in the first place. I stop the car beside it, glad I don’t need to drive any further. I zip my jacket and grabmy bags, glancing back at my suitcase.I’ll have to do two trips, I guess.
