“Permanently?I can’t imagine anything more dreadful. Think how disappointed your father will be. Haven’t you embarrassed him enough?”
There was only so much I could take. “Sorry, Mom, but you’re cutting out. The reception’s terrible up here.”
A total lie. I’d never had a problem getting cell service when I visited Grandma. She even had a decent Internet connection—a necessity, given her love of YouTube videos about knitting and baking. But Mom didn’t have to know that.
As my car made its ascent up the twisty mountain road, I rolled down my window, eager for a dose of fresh air. Fifteen minutes later, I reached Grandma’s property and parked on a gravel stretch next to her overgrown vegetable garden. I got out of the car and let the fragrant scent of pine wash over me. Then I surveyed the place with a critical eye.
While the cabin was in a perfect location, surrounded by majestic fir and pine trees, it needed a lot of work. The boards on the front porch were loose, half the window frames were broken, and the northwest corner of the roof needed new shingles. The inside wasn’t much better. The last time I visited, I’d suggested taking down the fading wallpaper and painting the walls a vibrant color. Grandma had put me off, saying we’d have more fun baking muffins.
Now it was up to me to deal with it.
You’ve got this, Maggie. One step at a time.
Before I started on the repairs, I needed to give the place a thorough cleaning. I’d come prepared, clad in a pair of cutoffs and an old Bon Jovi T-shirt, my dark curls tucked under a bandanna. I’d brought an arsenal of cleaning supplies and a heavy-duty vacuum.
I opened the passenger side door to let Farley out, and he bounded past me. Before I could stop him, he loped over to the creek that ran in front of the cabin and jumped into it. Great. Now I’d have a wet dog to deal with. But I could understand his eagerness. Ever since that phone call with Brayden, I’d been thinking about the cabin nonstop.
A loud banging sent my pulse racing. It was coming frominsidethe cabin.
Shit.Was it a bear? It didn’t sound like a bear.
Maybe some rando had noticed the cabin was empty and decided to squat there. I hadn’t visited since Grandma had died four months ago. Back when she’d been in hospice, she’d told me not to worry about her place because a neighbor was checking in on it. The memory of her last few days made my eyes well up with tears, but I wiped them away. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past. Not when I was dealing with a potential intruder.
Another bang rang out, followed by the sound of someone yelling. Amalesomeone.
I swallowed, unsure of what to do. I didn’t know self-defense, and Farley wasn’t exactly guard dog material.
Then again, this wasmyplace, damn it. I couldn’t let a stranger trash it.
I picked up a broom from my stash of cleaning supplies and called out to Farley. “C’mere, boy!”
Water droplets flew as he shook himself off and trotted over to me. Gesturing for him to follow, I crept across the porch, turned the key in the lock, and kicked the door open. “All right, you fucker, it’s go time!” I yelled, brandishing the broom like a weapon.
In retrospect, a stupid move. What if the stranger had been carrying a gun?
The door opened onto a wide front room. On one side, a plaid couch and a rocking chair faced a brick fireplace; the other side contained a rustic kitchen with a woodstove. But my intruder was nowhere to be seen. I inched forward with Farley until I came to the back half of the cabin, which housed a tiny, cluttered office, a bathroom, and a spacious master bedroom. The door to the bedroom was open, so I moved in closer.
And stopped short.
Standing at the far window, clutching a hammer in one hand, was a shirtless dude who was easily six feet tall. The guy was seriously ripped—broad shoulders, thick biceps, thighs like tree trunks—and clad in nothing but a faded pair of jeans and scuffed hiking boots. Thick auburn hair fell to his shoulders. The sight of small white earbuds explained why he hadn’t heard my dramatic entrance.
He turned suddenly like a lion scenting his prey. I screamed and dropped the broom, sending it clattering to the floor.
Farley ran up to him, wagging his tail as if he’d found his new best friend.
The guy just stared at me. Really stared, like he was taking in every inch of my body. Which would have been hot if he hadn’t been a giant, hammer-wielding stranger. As scared as I was, I couldn’t pull my eyes away from him. He had a thick beard in that same shade of auburn, soulful brown eyes, and a broad chest covered with reddish-brown hair. One shoulder bore a large tattoo of a pine tree.
He popped out the earbuds and put them in his pocket. “Hey. Are you okay?”
His voice was low. Gruff. If a bear could speak, he’d sound like this guy. Definitely kind of hot. Not that my brain should have been going there. It was the fault of those bear shifter romances I’d been reading.
“I… um…” I fumbled for words, but my mouth was dry as a desert.
The guy patted Farley’s head. “Hey, buddy. Can you convince your owner I’m not about to eat her?”
Eat me? Those werebearwords. Or… bedroom words, depending on your train of thought.
Nope.Not going there.
