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The curvy brunette at my cabin door looks terrified when she spots the knife in my hands. I was cutting up some fresh meat when she came knocking, disturbing my peace.
“I’m cooking,” I tell her. “What are you doing here?” Hopefully, she’ll grace me with an answer this time.
“I, um, rented a room from you?” She drops her extended hand and pushes it deep into her coat pocket.
“Sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong address.”
She frowns as she opens a crumpled piece of paper. “So you aren’t Sawyer Stone?”
“I am, but I’m expecting a guy called Max.”
A smile lights up her face. “That’s me. Max. Short for Maxine.”
Fuck. This can’t be right. What am I going to do with a stunning girl like her around? “No way. Not going to happen. You’ll have to find another place to crash.”
Her eyes grow wide. “Are you crazy? I already paid you. In full! I’m staying.” She crosses her arms over her chest and takes a step forward.
I offer her an amused smile in return. What is she going to do? Use physical force? I could pick her up with one hand and throw her out if I wanted to.
“Let me in,” she says through gritted teeth.
My mind needs a minute to process this. The guy I thought I rented my room to for the next couple of weeks turns out to be a girl. Having her here will be a distraction I don’t need, but leaving her outside in the dark isn’t cool either. I can already hear the disappointment and disapproval in my sister’s voice when I tell her I turned Max—sorry, Maxine—away.
“Why are you here?”
She harrumphs. “That’s none of your business.”
I cock an eyebrow.
“Fine, I’m here to write a book. I’m an author. So if you’re worried about me getting in your way, don’t. I prefer to be alone.”
“Same. Come on in.”
“You better believe I’m coming in. I’ve paid you.”
“I know.” I open the door for her, and she limps over the threshold.
“What’s wrong with your foot?”
“I sprained my ankle while walking up to your cabin. My Uber driver left me about two miles from here.”
“Why didn’t you tell me straight away? You need to ice that ankle and put it up. Oh, and report that driver.” My blood boils at the thought. What kind of person leaves a woman on the side of the road in a dark forest? A bear could’ve gotten to her before she got to me. Some people don’t use their brains.
She stares me down. “I would’ve told you if you’d given me a warmer welcome.”
Feisty. I like that in a girl. I grunt. Stop thinking about her in that way. I’m not in the market for a relationship or a fling or whatever.
Cooper jumps from the couch to sniff our guest. Maxine rubs his head while he tries to jump on her.
“Cooper, down,” I tell my Bernese Mountain Dog. With his weight, he’ll knock the girl right over.
“Oh, it’s okay. He looks so sweet.” She laughs when he licks her hand. “That tickles, Coop.”
I frown. Coop? She sure feels at home fast.
“Ready for the tour?” I ask, scooping up her sports bag from the floor.
She nods. “Yeah, that would be great. I’ve been in the air and on the road for hours. I’m exhausted.”
I nod. “Before you head off to bed, I’ll get you an ice pack for your ankle.”
“Thanks.”
I spread my arms. “This is the living room, as I’m sure you can tell. To your right is the kitchen. I was just making stew. If you want some, it’ll be ready in a few hours.”
She peeks her head into the kitchen. “Cozy. I like it.”
I know the cabin isn’t big, but it’s enough for a guy like me who lives alone. I don’t need a chef’s kitchen with marble countertops. My stove, oven, and small counter space are more than enough. For me anyway. Maxine probably lives in some chic apartment in the city.
I open the freezer door, take out an icepack and wrap it in a kitchen towel before handing it over. “You’re going to need this.”
“Thanks.”
“Next up is the bathroom,” I announce.
We cross the living room to the bathroom, and I lead her inside, immediately regretting it. The space is so small that we’re standing way too close together.
“Bath-shower combo, sink, toilet. Just your normal bathroom. Clean towels are over there.” I point to the wooden cabinet under the sink.
“Great.”
“Glad you like it. Let’s move on.” I lead her through the small hallway. “Here is my room. Sorry, keeping the door closed.”
She shrugs. “Okay, I get it. You’re a private man. I respect that.”
“Right next to my bedroom is yours.” I swing the door open and drop her sports bag on the bed.
She lets her gaze travel over the double bed with clean sheets, the wooden dresser, and the small wooden desk in the corner.
“Oh, there’s even a sink in here. Neat.”
“Only runs cold water, though.”
She smiles at me. “That’s okay. I’ll use it for freshening up and brushing my teeth.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Take your time unpacking and catching up on some sleep. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
I close the door behind me and let out a big breath of air. Having a woman arrive instead of a man was quite the surprise. I hope it’ll all work out fine. Maxine looks sweet enough, but there’s something about her that I can’t find the words for.
I throw some extra logs on the fire and get back to the kitchen. As I slice through a piece of fresh meat, the word hits me. Innocent. That’s what she is. Or at least, that’s how she comes across, despite her feistiness.
I can’t believe I assumed Max was a guy. I never thought a girl would travel to my cabin to live in isolation for weeks on end. Then again, it does make sense since she’s a writer. Don’t people always say that writers need solitude to get words on the page? I wonder what kind of books she writes. Probably syrupy-sweet love stories. Not that it’s any of my business. If she likes it and it pays her bills, more power to her.
Renting out the spare room wasn’t my first choice either, but I’m neck-deep in debt thanks to the fucked up medical system that racks up bills faster than you can blink. It was either posting the ad about renting a room or risking further debt and selling my cabin. No way am I ever going to let that happen. At least now, I’m confident I’ll get through the next few months until the tourist season starts back up and I can make more money.
I pour some olive oil into a frying pan and add the venison meat. After adding the vegetables, herbs, potatoes, and sauce, I let everything boil for a good amount of time before turning the stove down and letting it simmer. The stew should be ready in an hour or two.
Cooper lazily lifts his head in my direction when I enter the living room. He’s spread out on the blanket in front of the fire, exhausted from a full day of hiking.
I settle myself on the couch with a thriller. There’s not much to do around here besides read and contemplate. I don’t have a TV, and cell phones only have service about ten percent of the time in this part of the mountains.
The story about an ex-SEAL trying to catch a kidnapper doesn’t hold my attention tonight as my thoughts keep drifting to Max. I look at her closed door. Is she sleeping? Staring at the ceiling, wondering why she came here? Writing her book?
I shake my head. Her being here is a pure business transaction. I need the money, and she needs a quiet place to write. Me thinking about what she’s doing in her bedroom can’t be part of that simple agreement.
I force myself to focus on the plot. After a few more distracting thoughts, I finally get lost in the story until my kitchen timer lets me know I need to check on the stew.
The meat is as tender as can be. Even though I have no idea whether Maxine will join me for dinner, I get out two plates and two cutlery sets. The girl must be starving after her long day.
While I’m setting the table, her bedroom door creaks open. Maxine has gathered her hazel-brown curls in a messy bun. She’s wearing soft-looking pajamas with a picture of a llama on the front.
Yeah, I was right. This girl is as innocent as they get. At least that means she won’t cause me any trouble or be in my way.
“Dinner’s ready,” I say.
“Thanks. It smells delicious. I’ll be right there. I just want to warm up for a second.”
She kneels in front of the fire and extends her hands. “Heaven,” she mumbles and lets out a few moans that send a tingling sensation to my dick. “This heat feels amazing.”
I disappear into the kitchen with the excuse of needing to grab the napkins. I lean my hands on the sink and take a deep breath in. Because my cabin is so small, I can still hear her moaning sounds.
A grunt escapes me. I need to make her stop so I can get my body under control. Being attracted to the person renting my spare room wasn’t part of the plan at all, and I don’t like plans changing.
I take a few moments to compose myself. I’ve been living on my own here for years, and I’ve been completely satisfied with that. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let some sexy, innocent writer turn my life upside down, even though I realize it’s an extremely tall order.