Chapter 3
Millie
Friday 3.12pm
I’m ankle-deep in snow, already freezing and back aching, when the snow blessedly decides to stop.
Ryder’s set such a clipped pace, I’ve not even managed to take any snowy photos documenting my trek to his cabin.
Not that this is the sort of photo Terry wants anyway. He wants glamor and glitz. Carefully staged photos that can take hours to look spontaneous.
My face is so cold I can’t feel my cheeks, and I’m thanking my lucky stars I wore my thermal underwear and gloves.
Rather than admit I’m in agony and more than pissed at his behavior, I plow through the snow as fast as I can, and hope Cindy can send someone a little more cheerful to come get me.
By the time we reach a log cabin, I’m out of breath, and so thirsty I’d consider eating a handful of snow if Ryder wasn’t eyeballing me.
To make it worse, I need to pee and from the looks of the cabin, indoor plumbing isn’t going to be an option.
He doesn’t even wait for me, just clomps up the stairs and stamps the snow off his boots before opening the door.
I smother a curse and follow after him, wondering if this day could get any worse.
Out of courtesy he seems to lack, I get as much snow off my boots and step inside the cabin.
To my dismay, the entire space is smaller than it looks from outside.
There’s a ladder leading to an open loft, but the downstairs is cramped and awkward with his unmade bed in the corner of the room, a firebox, a kitchenette with an ancient stove, and a table and chairs.
There’s even a Moose head hanging on the wall, and a shotgun and a rifle slung over a tattered chair. Like it’s inhabitant, the entire space reeks of unbridled testosterone.
As I dump my backpack on the floor, he barely glances at me as I catch the tail end of a very terse phone call. “—more than an inconvenience. Send someone as soon as the road is open again.”
If Cindy had anything to say in reply, he doesn’t even allow her the opportunity, just presses the end call button and glares at me.
“Don’t expect me to wait on you. Cindy’s the one in hospitality, not me,” he says.
That makes my hackles rise. “No, I doubt you could even if you wanted to.”
I don’t know why I said that, but it seems to both confuse and confound him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Since he’s not offering me a seat and I doubt he will, despite my bursting bladder I take a seat on the rickety chair closest. “Nothing. I’m tired and since neither of us wants to be here, how about you stop treating me like shit, and I’ll not mention it to Cindy or put it in my review?”
It wasn’t meant to be a threat, but it seems to remind him I’m here not just as a friend of his sister’s but to help her tout more business.
His jaw works as he pulls his coat off and hangs it by the door. “Take your coat off or it’ll lose its effectiveness when you go outside again.”
My eyebrow hitches but since that’s the nicest thing he’s said since picking me up, I relent and unzip my coat.
If it weren’t for the fact I’m wearing a snug-fitting thermal, and the way his eyes are now searching my body, I’d have thought he was completely disgusted by me.
But the more I watch him as he struggles to take his eyes off my chest, the more I realize I’m looking at him the exact same way.
Now he’s removed his own coat, I can see the trace of muscle under his thermal shirt, the strength in him and despite the way he’s treated me, my stomach starts to backflip.
Our eyes lock, and he stares at me so intensely, a ripple of awareness spreads from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.
Given how obnoxious he’s being, the thoughts I’m having are as unwelcome as I am. “I don’t suppose you have a bathroom hidden somewhere?”
He cocks his head then shakes his head. “Outhouse. Right beside the garage.”
I nod at him as I slip outside again in the frigid air. Phone in my pocket, I manage to take a few snaps of his cabin, and the surrounding forest before finding the outhouse.
With a look back at the cabin, I close the door and try to think positive thoughts as I sit on the icy seat.
I may be in the middle of nowhere with a man who can’t stand my company, but the brisk hike here, and the cold air seems to have cured both my hangover and lessened my jet lag.
My mouth quirks into a wry smile as I snap a selfie of myself.
Not what my boss wants, but right now, me looking like death warmed up and sitting on a toilet in the middle of nowhere seems entirely appropriate.
***
Ryder
Friday 4.57pm
As bad as it is having her in my face, her sitting there on my beat-up sofa, long legs crossed, and boots by the front door, is making me crazy.
Every time she moves, I’m aware of every single thing about her that makes her feminine.
Her hair, her lips, the curve of her tits, and the soft slope where her waist meets her hip.
A year of solitude, the occasional trip into town and her presence is unnerving and off-putting.
I’ve survived up here by avoiding temptation, and the way I’m starting to itch like she’s a drug I need, she’s more than a temptation.
I need to get rid of her. But with night fast approaching and no word from Cindy, it’s looking more likely I’m going to be stuck with her tonight.
She hasn’t asked for anything, just downed a bottle of water she had in her pack, but I’m getting hungry and she must be too.
I check my watch before grudgingly admitting I need to feed her. Given she’s willingly come here I can only imagine she’s a vegan or a vegetarian or something.
I ease off my chair and infuse my tone with ice. “I’m going to cook a steak. If you’re hungry, I can make another one. But don’t even bother asking me for quinoa, or kale or whatever, Cindy eats that shit. Not me.”
Her eyes pop, but her voice comes out amused. “Is there a wine list?”
At her attempt at a joke, I ignore her and back up so I’m in the tiny kitchen. “I don’t take orders in the kitchen, so you get it how it comes.”
Her lips twitch, but she just slowly rises from the sofa and crosses the space between us. “What makes you think I was going to tell you what to do?”
To avoid looking at her, I find a griddle and light the stove. “You’re a woman, aren’t you?” I mumble.
If she’s offended, she doesn’t reply, but leans her hip against the wooden counter-top and watches me season the meat. “What are you cooking?”
I ready myself for an argument or disgust or a sudden loss of appetite when I grunt a reply. “Moose.”
But rather than turn her nose up at it, she just nods. “Perfect. I like trying new foods.”
I’m not sure if she’s just being polite or trying to make conversation which I don’t want either of, so I just turn around and throw the steaks on the griddle.
Her next question makes me flinch. “Would you mind if I took some photos of your cabin?”
I jerk my head up and find her staring at the ladder to the loft I keep my ammo and food stored in.
Unease twitches at my chest as I think of what would happen if she put any of this in print. “I don’t want any photos or any mention of me in the review.”
When her eyebrows arch and she folds her arms over her chest, I wonder if she hasn’t already snapped some without my knowledge.
To make sure she understands I’m serious, I step away from the pan, and closer to her.
I growl the words. “I mean it. No pictures, no names. Got it?”
She flinches and backs away so she’s hard up against the wall. “I got it. Loud and clear.”
I doubt she understands the importance, but I drop it for now and decide to take it up with Cindy later.
I finish up the steak, and despite telling her I don’t eat kale, I toss a few greens together and drizzle them with some organic dressing Cindy gave me a few months back.
I don’t acknowledge her or take her food to her, just leave it on the counter, and sit in my usual chair so I can pretend I’m alone.
I can feel her eyes on me as she sighs and grabs her plate. Without asking for permission, she joins me at the table, making an already awkward meal ten times worse.
I keep my eyes on my food and ignore her as she picks up her knife and fork.
We eat in stony silence, each second that passes only making the tension and my irritation creep even higher.
The table is so small, her knees knock into mine, making it impossible to pretend she’s not here.
I shift back a little and angle my body away from her. I’m in such a hurry to get away from her, I inhale my food and get up before she’s even eaten half of hers.
“Keep loading the fire,” I growl.
Before she can answer, I dump the plate in the sink and grab my coat.
I may be stuck with her for the time being, but I’d rather freeze out in the garage than have to be in such a tight space with a woman I’m trying not to picture naked.
***
Millie
I’m torn between relief and worry when he storms out the door and slams it behind him.
With my stomach knotted, I force down more of the steak and try to figure out how I can get out of here.
I finish the food, and since he hasn’t offered me a drink, I refill my water bottle at the sink and stare out the window at the snow surrounding me.
I already know from research that the nights are long and dark in winter and if the road to the retreat is still closed, my chances of leaving tonight are low to none.
I wince as I swallow a mouthful of freezing water and decide my best bet is to call Cindy and see if there is an alternative to spending any more time with her prick of a brother.
I screw the cap back on my bottle and grab my phone from my pack. Since he’s still not back, I load more firewood into the box and retake my seat on the shabby couch.
Still trying to find a polite way to say I’m in hell and need rescuing, I dial Cindy’s number.
When she picks up, I clear my throat and have to force myself to be diplomatic when she asks if Ryder is behaving himself.
“Well, he made me food. But he’s um, not exactly pleased I’m here.”
Cindy mutters under her breath. “I’m sorry. He wasn’t my first or second choice to come pick you up. And if I’d thought for a minute, you’d wind up stuck at his place, I’d have arranged a shuttle or a taxi. It looks like you’ll be stuck there tonight.”
I sigh and slouch back on the surprisingly comfy sofa. “You don’t need to apologize for him, but I was wondering if there was another option?”
She’s silent and I hold my breath as I wait for her reply. “Another option for accommodation?”
“Um, yes. Anywhere really.”
The pause stretches on so long I think I’ve lost her, but remarkably the cell coverage is excellent considering we’re in the middle of nowhere. “I could probably risk driving if he’s really that bad?”
I chew on my lip as I wrestle over the decision. I know she’ll come, or at least try to if I push, but I also know she’ll be risking hurting herself or having an accident just because I couldn’t put up with her abrasive brother for a night.
“No. That’s okay. I’ll find a way to deal with him.”
“Are you sure? I can have another word with him?”
“I doubt that will make a difference, if anything it’ll probably aggravate him further.”
She half chokes on a laugh. “You’re probably right.”
Since there’s no sign of him, I use the opportunity to ask Cindy something I wouldn’t dare ask Ryder directly.
“Why is he like this?”
She blows out what sounds like a painful sigh. “I shouldn’t be talking about him. And normally I wouldn’t, but...”
I wait for her to grapple with her conscience and don’t say a word until she starts talking again.
“Ryder wasn’t always this abrupt. He kind of got this massive ego when he started getting into MMA. It’s one of the reasons he doesn’t get on with mom and dad anymore. They didn’t like the attitude he developed when he got popular.”
I keep my eyes on the door in case he comes back in. “He was popular?”
“Oh yeah. Really popular. His ego only got bigger when he made it to the top one hundred.”
I rise to my feet and walk over to the window to try to see if I can spot him. “What happened?”
“I’m not entirely sure. He refuses to talk about it. I was as surprised as anyone when he retired and came to live in the cabin grandad left us. We’d kind of drifted apart since he’d gotten into sport.”
My brow knots as I imagine multiple scenarios that may have led to him walking away from a successful career.
I know next to nothing about MMA, and if Ryder is anything to go by, I don’t want to know.
I’m about to ask another question when I catch movement through the garage window and know I’ve found him.
Rather than involve Cindy further or make myself a nuisance, I decide to go tackle my problem head-on.
“I’m going to have a word with him and see if we can’t come to some sort of arrangement. There must be something we can agree on.”
“Well, good luck. If you can get past the guards he’s built up, he’s not completely unlikeable.”
I hang up and brace myself for a very, long, and very unpleasant conversation I don’t have the energy to have right now.
My resolve to be assertive lasts about as long as it takes to shrug into my coat, gloves, and boots and locate him.
I barely notice the temperature drop when I find him in the garage chopping firewood.
I freeze by the door, eyes wide and pulse racing as he raises the ax and smashes it into the wood on the block.
Splinters fly across the floor so violently I’m sure if his truck was parked inside he’d had hit it.
I’m about to call his name when he drops the ax and starts to strip off his layers of thermal shirts.
By the time he’s taken the final layer off, and I’m staring at a half-naked man, all the air seems to have left my lungs and I’m having heart palpitations.
No wonder he was popular. He looks like he’s been carved from clay, and as he picks up the ax and starts chopping every single one of my hormones start to sing in unison.
He is, quite possibly the sexiest, angriest, and the most volatile man I’ve ever met.
While my hormones and my common sense are battling it out, my feet seem to have a mind of their own.
I’m creeping closer, eyes locked on his torso, skin too warm considering it must be below freezing.
I thought Adam was good looking, but he had nothing on Ryder. It’s as if his entire body is filled with raw sexual energy and it’s filling the space around us.
I stand mesmerized as I watch him crack and split wood with such reckless fury, and violence I’m beginning to understand why people paid to watch him fight.
And he must still train because there’s a boxing bag hanging from the ceiling, and a pair of gloves on a bench.
I’m so entranced by his body, I don’t notice he’s stopped moving. I tear my eyes away to find him staring at me.
Something flickers over his face before the scowl returns and his voice comes out caustic. “Something you want?”
Suddenly struck dumb, with equal parts embarrassment and shame all I can think is yes there is something I want.
Something I absolutely shouldn’t want after the way he’s treated me.
Thankfully, my brain decides to finally override my physical reaction to him and relays the appropriate response to my mouth.
“What I want is to be at the retreat with your sister. But since I can’t be, and it’s a clear night, I’d like to go see if I can find the Northern Lights.”
He squints at me like I’m a moron. “I’m not hiking again. Especially not in the dark. If you want to go take photos, ask Cindy. She can take you to Fairbanks along with all the other tourists.”
I’ve committed to this, so I shake my head. “I spoke to Cindy. The roads are closed. And since I need to stay here tonight, I figured I may as well try my luck.”
At the look of sheer panic on his face, I take a step back and try not to keep staring at his six-pack. “There’s supposed to be a good vantage point near here. Have you seen them?”
His eyes narrow. “Nope.”
I don’t know why but I keep pushing. “How is that possible? They are literally right outside your backdoor.”
He shrugs lazily. “That tourist bull shit doesn’t interest me.”
Still trying to look him in the eye and not at his body, I press on, probably getting dangerously close to crossing the line professionally speaking.
“It’s not bull shit. You can see them for free. Anytime you want. And they’re one of the most beautiful natural phenomena on the planet. Why on earth did you move to a beautiful place like Alaska if the scenery doesn’t interest you?”
His eyes narrow and he looks at me with such menace I feel a shudder of fear travel the length of my body.
Sure enough, to confirm I’ve only served to piss him off further, he near spits the words at me, “That’s none of your fucking business.”
