Page 57 of Say I'm Yours, Firecracker

“Okay, so I definitely slobbered then.” She found wet wipes from God knew where, and scrubbed at her face until I pulled the truck into the steep driveway of the cabin we would be calling home for the next couple of days.

It was a classic log cabin, stained a warm hickory brown, with three floors. The upper two had balconies, and glass forming the wall. The bottom level was clad with a few windows and a wooden door painted a forest green.

I parked the truck and rounded the hood to help Ronnie out. Any chance I got to touch her, and her growing belly, I took full advantage. I rubbed circles on her stomach and back as she stretched, just waiting for her to get settled before heading into the house.

Finn unlocked the door, the tumble and click of the lock echoed into the forest. When I turned all I could see was the dirt road we had driven up, and trees. So. Many. Trees. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen this many trees at a time.

I felt like a forest fairy, my hair was longer than it had been in a long time, and I was in a dress that floated around my body like the air itself made it just for me.

“Firecracker,” Finn’s deep voice boomed through the quiet, “come check the place out with me.”

He extended his hand, and I blushed. How long had he stood there staring at me while I played out some fae fantasy in my head?

I took his calloused hand and he guided me inside. The floors were hardwood, the kind that were cut and labored over by hands, not machines. They were stained a rich dark brown with hints of red in the sunlight.

The stairs were covered in light gray carpet, leading to the first floor. It opened up into a brightly lit kitchen and living room. The couch was massive, at least ten or twelve people could lounge on it comfortably, and even though there was no television to be found, it was a trait I found…peaceful. No one came to the mountains to sit and watch TV.

Finn whistled low, “Damn.”

“Yeah.” I agreed.

The whole place felt a little sterile, since there had been no decor set up yet. It was plain, but I could see the potential. Another staircase led up to where I assumed the bedrooms were, and a loft that would house a pool table, or something of the sort.

Finn opened and closed the deep green cabinets looking for the instructions to turn on the well. Giselle had said her friend left them in a cabinet, but not the specific one.

He pulled a booklet out from one of the bottom cabinets. “Got it!” He said, as if he wasn’t sure he would find it.

“I’m gonna go find the breakers, and get the well pumping.” He pulled me into his body and kissed my forehead. I smiled into his chest and held his hand until my arms couldn’t reach anymore.

“And don’t even think about getting the bags!” He hollered from somewhere below. I bit my finger and smiled before venturing up the stairs. Three bedrooms were on this level, all with unmade beds, and no decor.

Not that Finn and I would be up here, the owners suite was behind the kitchen, equipped with its own bathroom and even a full sized closet. I guessed for more storage, if needed.

Carefully heading down the stairs I plopped down in the corner of the couch.

Oh!

Oh, I could get used to this. The couch was snuggly, absolutely perfect as it molded to my sore body, and the view! Holy shit.

The sky was a blue I couldn't even begin to describe. Like freshly spun cotton candy, with perfect white clouds, all overlooking the beautiful green foliage. The trees all seemed to be uniform in some ways.

Like someone had taken giant scissors and cut dips and valleys into the scenery. It was breathtaking, and I understood why this was one of the prime spots of reality everyone wanted a piece of.

I could hear Finn’s gruff voice as the door down stairs slammed. “No, Trevor. It isn’t fucking working.”

I couldn’t hear the other, Trevor, end of the conversation. But I could tell it wouldn't be a fun time for whoever he was.

“I followed the exact instructions.” Finn hissed, “Well, someone lied to you.”

After a few more terse comments Finn hung up and slapped his phone on his leg. “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, eyeing him over the couch.

He looked up, his face flushed red. “The well pump isn’t turning on.”

“Okay?”

He laughed, but it didn’t feel like a humorous one. “That means we don’t have water.”

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