have internet, and she wasn’t able to watch any movies or shows. She also didn’t have any of her knitting with her, which was inconvenient.
But she hadn’t wanted to go home. She hadn’t wanted to face Rose, who probably would have been able to tell that something was wrong, and then would have questioned her on it.
She didn’t want to have that discussion. She wanted to pretend that nothing at all had happened. Wanted to pretend that things were exactly as they had been.
That she was working with a man who was a little bit grumpy, and that was the end of the story. That she certainly hadn’t put her hand on his shoulder, then pressed her mouth to his. That she hadn’t taken a risk only to be rejected.
But thankfully, she had an endeavor to keep her busy anyway, so she had a reasonable excuse if anybody noticed that she was scarce. She wondered how they were feeding themselves. But it wasn’t her problem. She had a life all her own, and so did they.
Her life might suck, currently, but she did have it.
“This is the problem. You weren’t supposed to be doing this, but then you did, and now you’ve gone and made it difficult. When it shouldn’t have been.”
She growled internally at herself. There was something else going on with him, and she knew it. She just didn’t know what. But when he pulled away from her, it hadn’t just been disinterest.
She’d been over it a hundred times. And he’d said as much. He’d said that he wanted her. He’d said he hadn’t been with anyone in a long time.
Was that why he was isolating himself on the mountain? Had something happened? Had his heart been broken?
She wasn’t going to find the answers inside of herself.
She could only ever get the answers from him. It was just sadly obvious that he didn’t want to give them.
The next day, she was still upset about it, and the sky had broken open, what might have been a brief summer thunderstorm turning into a muggy, overcast day with a constant drizzle that occasionally changed to a downpour.
And, it was her day to bring food up to the cabin. He hadn’t told her not to.
And if she didn’t come, then he would know it was because she had been defeated by that kiss. That she had let it affect their arrangement. Which was what he said he was trying to prevent.
And she had way too much stubbornness to let that happen. She had her pride, kind of. Maybe not as much left as she would like, but she had done something to preserve what remained. She couldn’t not come. He would think she was a coward. She would be a coward.
Devastating her dreams over a kiss.
She wouldn’t be able to respect herself. So she gathered up food items—extra food items—because she was not going to allow this to impact her job with him at all. If anything, she was going to do it better. She was going to be even more competent. More amazing.
She drove up, determinedly not thinking about what it would be like to see him.
The rain was coming down in big, fat drops that hit her windshield, then radiated outward, creating intense pools over the glass, making it difficult to see. Her wipers could barely keep up.
But her anger fueled her on, and when she was at the top of the mountain, she realized she was barely conscious of having gotten herself there.
The weather was vile, so she was almost certain he would be inside the cabin. Not working on his mystery house that he would give no details on. Because why would he be out in this weather?
She walked up to the front porch, her arms full, and knocked with her elbow. But he didn’t answer. She knocked again, and again, no answer. So she pulled the door open and went inside and found the cabin empty.
She tried not to feel concerned.
She shouldn’t. If he wanted to be out in a thunderstorm that was his too bad. If he wanted to be out there getting soaking wet, there was nothing she could do.
And she shouldn’t care.
She huffed around, straightening, and cleaning.
“How does one manage to make a mess in such a small space in such a short amount of time?” She kicked a pair of muddy boots to the side. “Why do you even have more than one pair of boots?” she yelled down at his shoes.
It