DRAMA NOVEL ONLINE Take Me To The Cabin: Chapter 2
invited her to my place. I don’t invite people to my place. Hell, other than Axel, Cash, and Bennett, I haven’t had anyone out to my place, ever.
When I saw Jenna, a jolt went through me. I instantly felt comfortable with her, even more so than with the guys.
How is that possible?
Though, it was more than being comfortable with her. Her body tensed when her phone rang, and I had this overwhelming need to protect her. Whoever was calling, it was clear she didn’t want to hear from them, and they called twice before taking the hint.
Inviting her to my place was as much a reason to check on her and make sure she’s okay as it was for her to see the table. That’s what I keep telling myself because I’m not sure how else to describe my feelings.
The guys were staring at me as Jenna left the store, and Emilie, Axel’s wife, smiled like she knew some big secret. I pulled her aside to talk to her because I have zero experience with women, and Emelie explained that Jenna coming out to my place is a good sign. She wouldn’t have agreed if she didn’t feel secure and safe. Maybe she’s attracted to me? The problem is, I don’t know how I feel about her.
I wish I had more experience to draw on. My date to prom stood me up because someone better came along. My first kiss was a dare, and I haven’t had one since. To say making friends didn’t come easy to me growing up is an understatement. Axel, Bennett, and Cash are about it. And Jack, the guy who runs the store we sell our stuff from. We give each other space up here on the mountain.
Jenna will be here any time now, and I’ve already memorized the food and drinks I have to offer her. In preparation for her arrival, I’ve cleaned up my workshop, swept up all the sawdust, put my tools away, and moved all the scrap pieces of wood. I don’t want any chance of her getting hurt while she’s here.
When I’m working on a project, I get absorbed in it and it can get messy. Only when I’ve finished the project I’m working on do I clean up my workspace.
Normally woodworking is calming and I lose myself in it, but as I wait on Jenna, I can’t even think about working on my current project. It’s a long wooden slab dining room table like the one Jenna is looking for. I’m also making some chairs to go with the table. It’s for a hotel a few towns over. They’re updating their suites and wanted them furnished with local furniture. I don’t mind because the contract pays well.
I’m beginning to think Jenna might not be coming when the telltale sound of a car engine fills the air. My driveway is long and winds up from the main road, so I have a few minutes before she gets here. I grab some sandpaper and work on the chair I should’ve been working on all morning.
Her car stops in front of my workshop, which is separate from the main house. I watch her as she gets out of the car. Like yesterday, she’s wearing skintight jeans that show off her curves, but her shirt is looser, showing a hint of cleavage. Her light brown hair is pulled into some fancy side braid and the emerald-green eyes that captivated me yesterday are sparkling as she smiles.
That smile falters when she sees me and my heart sinks. Is she regretting coming out here? I can’t blame her as it’s not for everyone. Her eyes travel over my body and her cheeks turn pink. I suddenly remember I’m not wearing a shirt. I removed it earlier, and now I’m sweaty and covered in sawdust.
Despite all that, she walks toward me. ‘I love it out here. It’s so quiet and the drive was beautiful,’ she says, pausing at the door of the workshop. It’s a large rolling garage door that lets in tons of light and makes moving large furniture in and out of the building easy.
‘It’s quiet because there are no people. I don’t like people,’ I tell her honestly.
This earns me a small smile. As uncomfortable as I am, if my honesty earns me those smiles, I’ll keep it up.
She takes a few hesitant steps forward and looks at the table in the middle of the large workspace. ‘May I?’
I nod, and she steps closer, running her hand over the top of the table as she walks the length of it before looking up at me. Giving me one of those small, mysterious smiles, she turns to look out the side of the building, which has another large rolling door, although this one looks out over my cabin.
‘What a beautiful cabin. It must be peaceful out here.’
While I don’t know a lot about women, even I can recognize small talk. Is she nervous like I am? I can’t imagine a beautiful girl like Jenna being nervous around anyone.
‘It’s very peaceful. I built the cabin myself when I first moved here,’ I tell her, slowly making my way over to the other end of the workshop where she’s standing.
I’m proud of my cabin because I didn’t think I could do it or survive out here. It’s proof that I’m right where I need to be, where I belong.
She looks at me, her eyes wide with shock. ‘You built that cabin?’
‘I did. I bought three hundred acres here on the mountain, and that cabin was the first thing I built. It’s what got me into my love of woodworking.’
‘Why all the way out here?’
This is a subject I’m not ready to get into. If I were with the guys and didn’t want to talk about something, I would just give them a pointed stare, and they would know to back off. Something tells me that approach would scare Jenna, and that’s the last thing I want to do. But I don’t want to lie to her either, so I figure just being vague might be the best option.
‘I like being self-sufficient out here. I grow all the trees I need for my woodworking, and I replant what I take. As you pointed out, there’s plenty of peace and quiet.’ I shrug my shoulders, not sure what else to say.
‘What do you mean by being self-sufficient out here?’
‘I hunt and fish for my food, growing what I can. I don’t waste anything. I rarely shop in town, and I use the money from my woodworking to buy what I need.’
I can see her mind working. She’s full of questions I don’t want to answer right now, so I switch the topic to her.
‘What brings you to town?’
Jenna
Wow. Phoenix with his shirt off is like looking at a god. Perfectly sculpted abs that glisten in the sunlight. Even sweaty, he looks like something out of a well-staged magazine ad. I’ve read in romance novels how a sight like that turns the heroine on, but I’ve never experienced anything like it until today.
It’s like my body is calling out to him, telling me he’s the one to mate with, to protect me, to save me. I have no doubt I’d be safe in those powerful arms, but that doesn’t mean he wants anything to do with my drama. He said it himself. He’s out here because he doesn’t like people, and my drama would only bring people he doesn’t want into his life.
When Phoenix told me he lives out here and is self-sufficient, I wanted to know more. I’m curious how he does it, and want all the details behind it. A self-sufficient life here in the Montana mountains appeals to me more than I can admit out loud. The problem is, I’d have no idea where to start.
It’s obvious Phoenix is uncomfortable talking about himself. He’s a little awkward, and I’m guessing that’s from living out here, not having to deal with social interactions every day. It’s one of the things I like about him. He’s real and not hardened by society on how to feel or act.
‘I’m a landscape and nature photographer. The photos I took out here a few years ago are my best sellers. When I was asked to do a photo book on the area, I agreed. I knew even then I felt at home, so I decided to come live here.’
‘What kind of book?’ he asks as he turns and walks to the other side of his workshop, putting the large table between us.
I don’t answer right away, watching him and enjoying the way his body moves as he opens a small cooler.
‘Turkey sandwich?’ he asks, holding up a small paper bag.
‘That sounds delicious.’
Stepping back into the workshop, I take the bag from him, and we settle on one of his workbenches to eat. I take the first bite. For someone who’s self-sufficient out in the mountains, this is one of the best sandwiches I’ve had in a very long time.
‘This sandwich is really good.’
He watches me for a moment as he takes another bite of his sandwich. I get the feeling he’s thinking about his words before he speaks, something I wish more people did. Heck, it’s something I wish I did more of myself.
‘I grow the vegetables and I shot the turkey myself. Fresh ingredients make the difference,’ he says slowly like he’s thinking about each word.
After a few more bites, he sits in silence, and I decide to answer his question from earlier. ‘The photo book I’m doing is about life in western Montana. The book has different sections, including small towns, way of life, natural scenery, and a small section on Yellowstone. A short description will accompany each photograph.”
‘Do you submit it to a publisher?’
‘No, I already have a publisher. I’m submitting the photos with the descriptions, and they’re doing the layout and other information. I’m not a writer, so they’re working with someone to turn it into a story with my information and photos. I like this publisher because they’re lenient with their deadlines. I have a year to do the book but I’m sure as we get closer to the deadline it won’t seem like nearly enough time.’
He doesn’t smile, but one side of his mouth quirks up in what would be a cocky grin on anyone else. On him, it looks more like a shy smile. It’s as if he doesn’t know how to react to my statement.
‘That sandwich was really good. Thank you for lunch. I wasn’t expecting you to feed me while I was out here.’
He shrugs, looking at the tools on his workbench before he answers. ‘It’s a long drive back into town. Better to eat now.’
Turning away, I look at the table to hide my smile. He doesn’t talk much, but I find the little that he does say extremely interesting. He reveals more than he realizes.
As I look over the table, I say, ‘This table is too small for my dining room.’
He hesitates, so I offer him another small smile to encourage him to talk, which seems to be what he needs. ‘I can come out and measure your space and custom make the table for you.’
‘Really? That would be great.’ I’m not sure if it’s great because he can custom make the table for my space, or great because I’ll get to see him again.
‘I’ll be done with this one in about two weeks and then I can start on yours.’
We talk for a moment about the price, which seems to make him uncomfortable, so I agree to wait until he knows the specs to give me a solid bid.
‘I was wondering.’ I hesitate because I sense he’s going to tell me to fuck off in a nice way.
‘Yeah?’ He shifts on his feet and shoves his hands into his pockets.
‘Feel free to tell me no. There would be no hard feelings. But I wondered if I could come back and talk to you for my book?’
He looks uncomfortable. I can’t blame him because he moved out here to get away from everybody. Suddenly having someone wanting to talk to him about his way of life must be disconcerting. Yet, I’m hoping that he’ll say yes. I’m willing to bet he knows these mountains better than anyone and can point me in the right direction for some great places to photograph. If nothing else, I’ll get to spend a little more time with him.
But if he says no, I have to be okay with that. At least I’ll see him in a few weeks when he comes out to measure the space for my dining room table. Maybe by then, he’ll have warmed up to the idea.
He rubs the back of his neck and stares at his feet before glancing up at me. ‘I guess that would be okay.’
I can’t stop the big smile that takes over my face.’When works for you? My schedule is pretty open.’
‘Tomorrow morning? I’ll be working on this table, and I can talk and work at the same time.’
‘Tomorrow morning is perfect. See you then.’