“What the fuck is going on?” I hear the man say in the other room.
“I’m peeing.” I shout my answer so he can hear me through the door. He mumbles something I can’t hear.
“What?” I stand, washing my hands. He doesn’t respond to me. I look into the mirror. Whoa. I look a hot mess. I try and flatten my hair, remembering that a hot lumberjack is outside the door. I close my eyes thinking about the last three minutes of my life. My hair isn’t the only thing that is a hot mess. I also fall into that category. This guy probably thinks that I’m crazy.
I do the best that I can to tidy up my appearance. This is as good as it’s going to get. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. Wait. I reach inside my sweater, flipping on the lights to make it light up. It’s navy blue but has white snowflakes that light up. That makes me feel a little better. It might distract from my hair. I lean down, picking up my gloves, coat and scarf before opening the bathroom door and poking my head out.
My eyes go straight to Smittens, who has made a bed out of the dog. She’s actually lying right on top of him. Mr. Lumberjack towers over them as he stares down at them on his sofa. They look as though they’ve done this exact thing hundreds of times.
“Sorry about that.” I motion toward the bathroom. His head shoots up, his eyes locking with mine. My heartbeat picks up a notch. He really is handsome in a rough kind of way. I lick my lips as I take all of him in. “About all the pee talk.” There I go again. I can’t stop talking about it! What is wrong with me? I need to change the subject.
“Where’s your tree?” I ask, looking around his cabin. It’s rustic but has a modern feel to it. There isn’t one holiday decoration, though.
“Your sweater is lighting up.” His eyebrows furrow together to form what looks a lot like a frown. What kind of person would frown at this adorable sweater?
“Cute, right? I have more. They’re in the car.” I point to my car, looking out the front window. The snow is coming down like crazy now. That grumpy look doesn’t change with the news of my additional sweaters. This guy is a tough nut to crack. “It’s really coming down now,” I hint, hoping that he doesn’t make me go back out there. He doesn’t bite right away as he continues to stare at me. He looks as though he doesn’t know what to do with me.
“You can’t drive that kind of car in this. It’s not even legal.” Oh thank God, I thought he’d never offer for me to stay.
“Guess I’ll stay the night.” I joke but he doesn’t laugh. “It’s not my fault you don’t have numbers on the end of your driveway! It wasn’t until I was at the house did I see it was the wrong place.” I huff because he’s being a big jerk. I mean, I’d gone the extra mile to be friendly and I even turned the damn sweater lights on. The least he can do is try to be a little nice. Would it kill him to smile?
“So you took the chain off and drove up the driveway?” He folds his arms over his chest, making him look bigger than he already is.
“My phone died. It said two more miles and I thought it was about right.”
“Your phone died,” he repeats.
“Well, I brought a car charger but it wasn’t working or something.” I don’t want to admit that I got one for a different kind of phone. I didn’t realize until I went to use it and it was way too late.
He runs a hand down his face. “Where were you trying to go?”
I ramble off the address.
“You’re a town over.” He shakes his head. “You one of King’s women?” His eyes roam over me. His brows furrow together like he doesn’t believe it. I don’t know what one of King’s women looks like but I guess I don’t make the cut according to Mr. Lumberjack, whose name I still don’t know.
“I’m meeting a Mr. King.” At least I was supposed to be. I am renting out a small cabin for the month. I needed to get away. I thought a month of exclusion would be good for me. I left behind my horrible ex and equally horrible stepsister, Trish, who was banging my now ex. Who knows how long that had been going on? No wonder he never tried to get in my pants. Why not just date her to begin with? None of it made sense to me. And they think I’m the odd one.