Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother #4) - Lisa Helen Gray Page 0,64

mum,” he announces, winking in Mum’s direction.

I groan, smacking my forehead. “Jesus Christ, Dad. Stop trying to put me off sex for life.”

He laughs, pulling me into his arms. “Love you, baby girl.”

“Love you too,” I grumble, lightly pushing him away.

He forms a V with his fingers to convey he’s watching Clayton. “Don’t fuck up.”

Clayton gives him a sharp nod, watching him leave before turning to me and holding up a set of keys.

“Please tell me we have a hot tub,” I plead.

“Yes, and a view of the lake.”

I clap my hands, squealing with excitement, causing him to grin. “Let’s go say goodbye and find out when we’re all meeting up.”

“Lead the way,” he offers, grabbing my case.

We head over to the others, where a few are sulking. “What’s going on?”

“A few singles have to share a cabin with couples,” Hope explains.

“Ahh,” I breathe, understanding. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to share. There’s nothing worse than hearing a relative having sex. “Who is Lily bunking with?”

“Faith and Beau. Maddox is pissed off because he wanted to spend some time with Lily.”

“Is that why he’s glaring at Jaxon?”

Hope laughs. “No, he’s glaring because Jaxon volunteered him to bunk with Liam and share with Aiden and Bailey.”

“Oh God, they’re going to get us kicked off site.”

“I’m going to pretend we aren’t with them.”

“Is it really that bad?” Clayton asks, his breath brushing across my ear.

“Not really,” Hope answers, then looks thoughtful. “Unless you count the time they got us kicked out of the hotel and there weren’t any rooms anywhere else, so we had to sleep on the beach for the night.”

“Bloody hell.”

He’s got that right. I didn’t forgive Liam for a week after that one. Sand is not your friend.

“Where and when are we meeting up in the morning?” I call out, wanting to get out of the cold and to the cabin so I can check out the hot tub.

“Nine. There’s a building near the entrance that serves breakfast,” Faith announces.

“Are you not coming for a drink?” Charlotte asks, glancing up from her phone.

“No, I’m heading back. I’ll catch you all later.”

We leave after saying goodbye, following the map that was given to Clayton at reception.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Due to the dim lighting, I’ve not been able to take in much of the area, yet I can still see the beauty in what I have viewed. Whoever takes care of the presentation of the cabins, does it with love. They’ve put dedication into detail, into making each one look loved and cared for.

I feel terrible over how they’ve let us stay. Something is bound to get broken. I don’t want their work to be ruined.

From the introduction Clayton gave me after we left the others, Cabin Lakes is family run and some of the cabins are long-term rentals.

I can see why. Not only is the scenery—from what I’ve managed to glimpse—stunning, but each cabin is warm and inviting.

Each end of the cabin has hanging baskets, ready for when the flowers bloom. Under the window is a flower bed, a wooden bench underneath. On each side of the door are two lanterns, the electrical candles flickering to replicate a real flame.

There’s even a small wooden locker next to the door to place muddy boots and umbrellas.

“How did you find this place?” I ask as we continue along the path.

“My granddad was friends with theirs. We would come during the winter most years. When the lake is frozen or snow is on the ground here, it’s spectacular.”

“I can believe it. This place is incredible,” I gush.

“It really is. That cabin,” he continues, pointing to a two-storey brightly-lit home, “is Lola and Dean’s home. They used the plot of land to build on when her parents’ cabin was destroyed during Storm Ellen. He used parts of it in the house to give her some of it back. It was one of the last things she had left of them.”

That’s beautiful.

“As much as I love this place so far, I don’t think I could live here.”

Clayton doesn’t seem convinced. “Really? Why? This is one of the most beautiful places in England.”

“Exactly,” I affirm. “Living here, unless it held sentimental value, would become ordinary. You wouldn’t see the beauty like someone who was visiting for the first time.”

“Huh?”

I sigh, stopping outside our cabin, and turn to him. “Why do you go on holiday?”

“To get away, relax, explore.”

I nod, agreeing. “And for a change of scenery. People who live near the beach won’t pay to