Game Changer by Kelly Jamieson Page 0,49

stop. Made of logs, and with a big fieldstone chimney, the cabin sits nestled among tall pine and aspen trees. On one side, Craftsman-style tapered columns with fieldstone bases support a wide porch. It’s old-world picturesque, like nothing I’ve ever stayed in.

Jax carries our suitcases to the door of the porch and fishes a key out of his pocket. After unlocking the door, he pushes inside with the bags and I follow behind. Through another locked door, we enter a big living room. Here I see the fireplace the chimney is attached to centered on the wall, built of the same fieldstone. A big window on one side and sliding doors on the other side look out onto a deck, and beyond that the lake. The walls, ceiling and floor are all wood, out of date but charming.

“The place is a little old fashioned,” Jax says apologetically.

The furniture is clearly well-used—upholstered sofas and chairs, antique tables and a worn rug on the floor. It’s clean and cared-for, though. The kitchen is open to the living room, with an antique hutch, a round dining table surrounded with pressback chairs, and cabinets that probably date back to the 1950s.

“It’s amazing.”

“My grandparents don’t get up here much anymore, and neither do my mom or her sister, but they don’t want to lose the cottage. These things are passed down for generations here in the park.”

“I can see why.”

“There are three bedrooms, like I promised.” He grins. “You can have the master bedroom.”

“No, no, you take it. You’re family.”

“There’s only one bathroom, unfortunately.”

“We’ll survive.”

He wheels my suitcase into a small bedroom with lots more wood paneling. A pretty quilt covers the bed, and a bookcase holds tons of books. “I love it.”

“The sofas in the living room all make out into beds, so this place can hold a lot of people when needed.”

I run my hand over the white dresser and admire the framed photograph of a sunset over the lake on the wall. “That must be Clear Lake,” I say, nodding.

“Yeah. I took that, years ago.”

“Oh, really?” I look closer. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

Now I notice there are a lot of nature photos which are all probably Jax’s. “I’m sure you want to take a lot of pictures while you’re here.”

“Yeah, I hope so. If you want to wash up and unpack a bit, go ahead. I’ll open things up and meet you out on the deck.”

I use the bathroom and change into a pair of cropped leggings and a loose tank top. I eye the bed longingly. After traveling all day, I’d love to stretch out there. But I’ll go see if Jax needs any help.

When I walk out onto the deck in my flip flops, he hands me a glass of wine.

I smile with delight. “Thank you!”

Then I spy a lounge chair. Jax has already arranged cushions on the all the furniture, bless him. I head straight to it, adjust the back so it’s reclining, and flop down onto it. I let out a gusty sigh. “Okay. I’m in heaven.”

I’m looking out over the lake, through some trees and bushes, although there’s a path leading to the beach. I think I can see a wooden dock, and I’m eager to explore more at some point. Right now I’m content to lie back with my wine and enjoy the view.

Jax takes a seat, a beer in hand. “Yeah, this is pretty nice.”

“Totally different from California. And yet…kind of the same too. Nature and water and peace. It’s beautiful.” I breathe in the air, cool and scented with fir trees.

“I loved spending summers here. Riley and I had friends here, and we’d ride our bikes all over and get in trouble.”

I smile at that. “What kind of trouble?”

“Nothing illegal. We caught minnows. Once I stuffed one down a friend’s shorts.”

I laugh.

“Caught crayfish. We’d build little ponds to keep them in along with the minnows. Raced our bikes, tipped each other out of canoes, bought bags of candy at the store.”

“That sound so…wholesome.”

“Tomorrow I’ll chop some wood for the fireplace. And we’ll need to pick up food.”

“You’re going to chop wood?” I lift my head to stare at him.

“Sure.”

“Eek.”

“What?”

“Don’t cut your foot off. That would end your hockey career.”

He laughs. “I’ll be careful.”

He’s changed too, into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. He crosses one ankle over the other knee in a relaxed pose, gazing out over the lake also. His face is peaceful, his mouth curved into a slight smile.

He’s a beautiful man. Physically,