EMILY
One of my favorite things about going to college in Conception Ridge is the proximity to my family’s cabin in Virgin Peak.
When I need a break, all I have to do is check the online calendar, and if it isn’t rented out, I can make the hour and a half drive in my trusty little hatchback. Which is exactly what I do Friday afternoon when the annoying guy in my lab gets on my final nerve. We both live on campus, and the thought of bumping into him in the cafeteria over the weekend is not appealing. I’m taking an accelerated program with extra credits, and the end is almost in sight. A bit of rest and relaxation is exactly what I need to allow me to throw myself back into my all-consuming studies for the summer term.
Lucky for me, the cabin is available this weekend. My dad and his siblings all own the cabin together, after inheriting it from my grandparents, but none of them live close by. My parents are in Seattle, my aunt is in Los Angeles, and my uncle is in Houston. They use a rental agency to manage the property, but I don’t need to go through them. I just text my dad to let him know I’ll be at the cabin, and I hit the road.
Two hours later, after a quick stop for groceries, I arrive. It’s not quite dusk yet, but in the dense forest on the narrow mountain roads, it’s pretty dark.
I can’t wait to get a fire going in the woodstove.
I unlock the cabin using the combination code—technology is great—then immediately go through to the back deck and peep at the hot tub. It’s on, and it looks like the caretakers who check in on the cabin did a chemical treatment within the last day or two. My lucky night. I check the pH, set it to my preferred temperature, and skip back inside to put away my groceries.
Dinner tonight will be a frozen pizza, so I stick that in the oven, then crawl under a warm blanket to read while my food heats up.
I’m lost in a delicious story about a Navy SEAL when there’s a knock at the door, then the unmistakable whirring sound of the lock being opened.
“Hello?” a deep voice calls out.
I shriek—not my smartest move—and scramble off the couch, clutching the blanket around me.
The blanket will protect me, right? From the intruders who are politely calling out a greeting?
“Excuse me, is someone here?”
“Me!” My voice catches. “I’m here. Hello?”
Two big men step into view. They’re both wearing jeans and work boots. The younger one is wearing a hoodie, the older one a plaid shirt over a T-shirt. They’re handsome and muscular in a “we work outside” kind of way, and if they wanted to, they could snap me like a twig.
I hold my breath as they crowd into the space in front of me. A confusing energy charges the air around us as they look me up and down.
At the same time, they frown.
“It’s you,” the younger one says. He turns to the other man, a surprised—but not unhappy?—look on his face. “Heath, it’s—”
The man called Heath nudges him. “Shut up, Wyatt.”
Well, now I know their names. My eyes dart back and forth between them. They’re both older than me. Wyatt might be in his late twenties, and Heath looks like he’s my dad’s age. But like, in a hot way. A very hot way.
Don’t crush on the potential murderers.
I pull the blanket all the way up to my chin, nerves rioting through me. “Do I know you?”
“Probably not.” The one named Heath frowns again, his eyebrows pulling together and the corners of his mouth turning down. Is that frown familiar to me? “Did you rent this cabin for the weekend?”
Oh shit. “No. Wait, did you rent it?” I peel the blanket off my body and frantically fold it. “I have a pizza in the oven, but you can have that. Consider it a welcome gift from the, uh, owners, and I’ll just be on my way.”
“No, wait—”
“It’s fine.” I drop my book. So klutzy. Laughing nervously, I lean over and pick it up. Goose bumps skitter over my skin, and I’m rambling now, I know it, but I can’t stop. “This is very unprofessional of me. Please don’t rate the cabin less than five stars on my account. I thought it would be empty this weekend because nobody had rented it earlier today.”
“You just hoped this cabin would be empty?” Wyatt looks genuinely confused. “You’re a squatter?”
Wyatt might not be the smartest tool in the shed, so maybe I’ll get out of this alive. Dumb, handsome potential murderer. “Actually, this is my family’s cabin. We rent it out through a service, but when it’s not booked, I sometimes come up for the weekend. And well…oops.” Okay, I think I have all my stuff now. I spin in a slow circle. “Do you want my groceries?”
“Emily, wait.” That’s Heath again. He’s bossy. And unlike Wyatt, he doesn’t give off sweet, sexy himbo vibes.
I skid to a stop.
He’s effectively bossy. Sexy, dominant vibes. But…
Now it’s my turn to frown. “How do you know my name?”
“You go to Ridge College,” Wyatt says helpfully. Then he grins, full of boyish charm. “I painted the hall outside your dorm room.”
All spring, we had renovations at school. I think my floor was painted like three times. I try to picture this guy, but his face doesn’t ring a bell. Although now that I think about it, there’s something about that grin… But I would remember a guy this hot being outside my room a lot, right? Have I had my nose buried that far in the books?
My eyes go wide. “You know where my dorm room is?”