“This was a mistake.” I saw—rather than heard—his mouth move around the words.
I met his gaze. “What do you mean?”
But instead of answering, he started closing the door.
I thrust my hand and foot forward, placing them between door and frame. “Wait.”
To his credit, he waited. He could have easily overpowered me and shut it. I wasn’t what one would consider a small woman, and I was wearing heels, but he still managed to tower over me. He also looked lean. Strong. My eyes bounced to the shoulder and arm that were visible through the slit of the door. A single word came to mind: athlete. I recognized a high-performance athlete when I saw one. It wasn’t the right moment, but I continued my inspection, returning to his face. My hazy brain was about to make the connection. I knew.
Yes. I’d seen those eyes before. That stubborn set of dark eyebrows that dipped low. That long and straight nose, too.
He muttered something under his breath, and I sensed his grip on the door changing. That’s when my eyes dipped down, landing on his fingers. Strong, long. His middle one slightly crooked. His pinky wore a signet ring with a C.
A C. But it couldn’t be. It—
He cleared his throat, making me snap out of it.
I lifted my phone. “Here’s my booking. Have a look and see for yourself. I rented this cabin.” I pushed the device into his face. “Lazy Elk Lodge.”
He grunted something unintelligible and finally threw the door open again.
“Listen,” I told him, using the voice I always employed in press conferences. Polite but firm. Straight to the point. “Worst-case scenario, this is an unfortunate case of double-booking, which would be none of our fault. But if that’s what happened, we need to clarify this.” I checked on his expression as he reluctantly scanned the screen of my phone. “Best-case scenario, you’re simply wrong. In which case I’ll leave you a few hours to vacate and be back later. I have things to do in town. No harm, no foul.”
A snort toppled out of his lips. “That’s an awfully bad apology.”
“I’m not apologizing, I’m trying to be civil.”
“You’re also not the tenant of Lazy Elk,” he countered, making my eyes narrow. “It says there that you booked the Sweet Heaven Cottage in the Lazy Elk Lodge.” He arched that pair of angry brows, daring to look bored. “Wherever that is. Now, if you don’t mind, I have stuff to do back in my cabin.”
I retrieved my phone, zooming in on the details of the email. “That can’t be right.” I scrolled down. Two large fingers popped into my field of vision, bringing my attention to a line: Sweet Heaven Cottage, 423 Lazy Elk Street, Lazy Elk Lodge. “But that can’t be right,” I repeated. “I circled the property with the car when I got here and there was nothing.” My eyes scanned every single foot of property around, searching almost desperately at this point. “There’s no street. And there’s no other cabin.”
And there wasn’t. Not really. But I did notice something else.
To the right of the porch we were standing on was a shed.
Not a cabin. Definitely not the cabin I was staying in, right?
Only, the more I looked the more impossible it was to miss the number hanging off a… timber pole that bent sideways under the September sun.
The number read: 423 LAZY ELK STREET.
My stomach dropped with dread and… something else.
I hadn’t seen the interior, but I didn’t need to. I wasn’t equipped to stay there. That strange sensation intensified and for the first time in my life, I wanted to throw in the towel and run back home with my tail between my legs. I’d be a disappointment on top of being an embarrassment, but this? A shed in some rural area I was clearly unequipped for? It was too much. I—
A chuckle came from behind me, low and deep and dripping with such condescension that it snagged me right away from the edge of the hole I’d been ready to jump in.
This wasn’t me. I promised myself this morning I wouldn’t be wobbly Adalyn any longer.
“It’ll be perfect,” I announced, turning around and meeting his gaze. His green eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t cower. It was right then when it finally clicked. I knew without a doubt who this man was. It was in the way he’d been so… conceited. So self-assured. This was a man used to winning. And he’d just won. I’d been in the wrong. I squared my shoulders with the last ounce of dignity I had left. “And rest assured, neighbor, now that I’ve found it, I’ll get out of your hair and let you get to that very important stuff you have to do.”
“I’m not your neighbor.”
“Looks to me like we are sharing the property, though.” I spread my arms. “The beautiful and cozy Lazy Elk Lodge, in lovely Green Oak.”
“You’re not staying,” he said in a strange tone. “You can’t possibly live”—a nod in the direction of the shed—“there.”
The corners of my lips inched higher at the way he was telling me and not asking. “Of course I can. I’ve booked it and have very important business to do in town.”
He let out a bitter, humorless chuckle. “Darling—”
“Please.” My expression turned to stone. “Don’t call me that.”
He frowned, probably because I’d accidentally said please. “Adalyn,” he said in that English accent I’d been wrong to assume was fake, making my name sound a way I wasn’t used to. “Adalyn Elisa Reyes.”
I didn’t understand why he’d done that—said my full name like that. I narrowed my eyes. “So you know how to read, congrats.”
Rather than annoyed, he seemed amused by my jab. “That’s not a cabin,” he continued. “It’s hardly a cottage. It’s a goddamn shack.”
“Your point?”
His eyes gave me an incredulous once-over. “You can’t possibly think that you’ll make it in there. Not short- and certainly not long-term.” He tilted his head. “In fact, I don’t think you’ll make it a single night there.”
He wasn’t wrong, I probably couldn’t. But I’d spent half a lifetime surrounded by men just like him. Competitive, judgmental; I didn’t like to be underestimated. And I’d already lost one battle to him.
“I guess we’ll have to see about that.” I turned around and climbed down the steps. When I was at the bottom, I looked at him over my shoulder and added, “Neighbor.”
“What do you mean it’s all booked?”
