I didn’t mean to look, and I quickly turned away, leaving the room unceremoniously. When I closed the door behind me, I breathed deeply, trying to get control of myself. She was hot as hell, but I couldn’t let myself think that way. She was at my mercy here in the mountain, and I was way too damaged to let someone in. I shook my head.
No. I couldn’t let myself do that to her. Or myself.
6
Desiree
It had been a full day since I showed up at Aiden’s cabin, lost, freezing, and terrified. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed difficult to reconcile how close I came to dying. Shuddering at the thought of it, I picked up the book by the bedside table and tried to read again.
Aiden had a bookshelf in his bedroom with a number of books double stacked on it. He offered that I could read anything on it, since I was without my phone or any other source of entertainment. The electricity had finally failed in the middle of the night, and Aiden said he didn’t want to run the generator or the gas power except for the stove to cook in order to conserve electricity. I understood that, though it made things rather dull.
I was trying to see the positives, few though they were. I was alive. I was warm and fed. Aiden had offered his food, and I had every intention of paying him back for it when I left. His hospitality was a gift, even if he was a little gruff and we hadn’t done much talking. One would think in a situation like this, two people would get to know each other, but that wasn’t the case. Aiden kept his distance, and I got the impression he just wasn’t good with people. It wasn’t malice or rudeness. I think he just didn’t particularly want to open up to anyone.
Especially a strange woman who was so dumb she almost got herself killed and wound up on his doorstep.
He didn’t need to take me in the way he did. He could have not answered the door, which, looking back, was probably the smart thing to do. I could have been a murderer or a crazy person. But he did, and I was extremely grateful that I got the chance to prove I wasn’t going to steal a kidney him in his sleep.
Not that he should have much to worry about. He could overpower me in a hurry. He’d mentioned bringing soap back from Iraq, and so I gathered he’d been in the service. He’d clearly kept his body in fighting shape even now.
He was also inordinately attractive. At first, I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me since I was so desperate for help. I thought my brain just screwed up what he really looked like and made him appear like an angel so I would cling to him and the safety he represented. But a good night’s sleep and some frustratingly deep silence made me settle into the knowledge that he was a standoffish loner who fit all the markers of someone who would live in a cabin alone in the woods. All the markers except one, he was stupidly hot.
I put the book down after reading the same line a dozen or so times. It didn’t do any good. I just couldn’t concentrate on anything other than my desire to get back to my new place and at least have my things, even if I didn’t have my people. Granted, I didn’t know if I had electricity at the house, and as far as I knew, there was a wood stove and a fireplace, but I hadn’t even inspected the stack of wood outside in the shed. I just took the landlord’s word for it.
Aiden was cooking something in the kitchen, and it smelled delicious. The telltale aroma of onions and garlic convinced me to get up, so I walked out of the bedroom and to the kitchen. He looked over his shoulder, acknowledging me before turning back to the stove.
“I hope you like tomato sauce,” he said. “I don’t really know how to make too many meals, but I don’t eat a big variety of stuff anyway. Spaghetti sauce, though, I make a decent one of those.”
“That sounds great, actually,” I said. “I’m Italian, so marinara pretty much runs through my veins.”
“Well, it won’t be fancy. Just a simple sauce. I’ve got ground pork for it. I hope you can stomach it.”
“I’m sure I will,” I said, happily enjoying this interaction with Aiden. It was one of the longer conversations we’d had since I showed up at his door.
He went back to cooking and looked out through the tiny window above the sink.
“Looks like the snow stopped,” he said. “It should start melting later today. According to the weather report”—he indicated a crank radio beside the stove— “I should be able to take you back down to your car and help you get it out tomorrow.”