Finally, the day of her date arrived, and Cody came over to Cassie’s townhouse after her nightly broadcast. She’d offered to drive to his place, but he’d said her Toyota Camry might not make it up his road. When she arrived home, he was already parked out front in his pickup truck. She pulled into her garage and went back outside, and as they greeted each other in the street with a hug and he took her briefcase for her, Cassie felt like they were a married couple, each arriving home after a day at work. She liked the feeling.
“So I get to see your house today!” she said. “I feel honored, as if I’ve passed some sort of test.”
“The test is if you’re willing to hang out with me after you see it,” he said. “And it’s a cabin, not a true house. Calling it primitive is an understatement.”
“Maybe I’m not as big a princess as you think,” she teased.
He raised his brows as if open to the possibility, but later when she came down the stairs wearing a form-fitting cable-knit sweater dress, mid-thigh in length, and her sexiest black Jimmy Choo pumps, he laughed.
“Not a princess, eh?”
She posed for him, hand on hip, and turned around once. “You don’t like it?”
“Oh, I like it.” His eyes took in her entire body in the clingy sweater dress. Cassie felt it as a pleasurable heat wherever his gaze touched. “Come here.”
She went to him, making sure her hips swayed as she walked. Cody took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, moving both hands to her derrière.
“Your ass looks great in this dress,” he said into her ear, his breath intoxicatingly hot. “Like a ripe peach. And as great as you look in the dress, I can’t wait to see you out of it.”
His words warmed her in all the right places. “You can undress me right here.” She dove into their next kiss and relished how she made him groan with desire. “You want to?”
“You know I do.” His fingers found the soft flesh at the edge of her dress, and she held her breath as she thought of him continuing to explore, of him finding her sex, wet and ready. “But not yet.”
He pulled back from kissing her and she discovered there was a teasing light in his eyes. She nearly cried with frustration. Seriously? He could rip her dress off and be fucking her in under a minute. What was he waiting for? There was traditional and then there was just plain slowpoke.
Pressed closely together like they were, she could feel his cock straining to break free from his jeans, and she put a hand on his fly—as an offering. A chance to change his mind and take her right here.
“Spontaneity has its place, Cody,” she said.
He caught her hand and stopped her from undoing his fly.
“So does romance.”
“My goodness, the restraint you show.” She was only half-kidding. The other part of her was frustrated. Sexually. Her underwear was already soaked and they weren’t even out the door. “Fine. But no blow job for you in the car on the way over like I was planning. It’s not romantic enough.”
“Damn.” He gave her a hopeful look. “Maybe on the way back?”
“I’m not spending the night?”
“Yes, you’re spending the night.” Separated now, he watched her straighten her dress. “But about those shoes. You might want to change them.”
“You don’t like them?” Cassie felt a little put out all of a sudden. What kind of guy didn’t like to see a woman in hot shoes?
“No, I like them. They’re really sexy. It’s just—”
“Good, then I’ll wear them.” Cassie was gratified he thought her shoes were sexy. She wasn’t about to change into some sloppy old tennis shoes or whatever practical thing he suggested.
“Fair enough,” he said, and seemed amused about something.
As they got settled in his truck, he looked over at her. “Now I’m going to be thinking about that blow job the whole way there.”
She batted her eyelashes. “You mean the one you won’t be getting?”
“Man, you sure hold a grudge, don’t you?”
“You know, Cody, you’ve been so good about giving me Alaska lessons, but it’s time for me to give you a lesson. Don’t deny me. I don’t like it.”
“Yes, ma’am. Lesson learned.” He grinned. “Note to self: Give Cassie whatever she wants, whenever she wants it.”
“Smart man!”
“I don’t feel too smart missing out on sexy times on the ride over.”
“Aw,” she said. “Lucky for you I believe in rain checks.”
“I am lucky.” Pulling into traffic, he reached for her hand and squeezed it. “When I’m with you, I feel like the luckiest guy alive.”
After twenty minutes of driving, during which buildings grew more and more scarce, Cody turned onto a gravel road which climbed upward into the forest. Cassie saw a single mailbox at the base of the road, painted black, with “Bradford” in white stick-on lettering.
The road was rough. The Ram bounced over potholes and shimmied on patches of washboard. Cassie’s car definitely wouldn’t have made it. Glancing over, she saw Cody was in four-wheel-drive.
“You do this every day?” Every muscle tense, she gripped the edges of her seat, holding on for dear life. “I think it would drive me crazy.”
“Actually, no. I don’t go into town every day, only for my forty-eight-hour shift, and then I’m off for four days,” Cody said. “When I’m not on shift, I mostly work around the property, unless I go hunting or fishing. And once a year I rent a tractor and clean up the road, usually in September, just before the snow. So this is about the worst it ever is, pot-hole wise. Mud-wise, that’s a different story. It’s real fun after the rain.”
A few minutes later the road leveled out, and Cody slowed. Up ahead, Cassie saw a tiny hunched building crafted of logs, with a door and just two windows, one on either side. She assumed it was a shed or outbuilding and looked around for the main house.
“Where’s your house?’ she asked when she didn’t see it.
“That’s it.” Grinning at her mistake, Cody parked the truck and hopped out. “Wait there, I’ll help you.”
It was obvious now why Cody had suggested she change out of her expensive high heels. There was no way they wouldn’t get scuffed when she stepped into the gravel. Shit.
“I should have listened to you,” she said as he swooped her up and carried her to the grass—not that she minded feeling safe in his arms. As always, the slightest touch from Cody made her shiver happily.
“You should have,” he agreed, setting her down. “But I’ve noticed you like to make up your own mind about things.”
“Sometimes I think you’re being sexist when you’re really just being polite,” she admitted. “You’re very different than the men in New York—which is a good thing!”
Cody paused and picked up an extension power cord, reached under the front fender of the truck, and plugged it in.
“Oh, wow,” Cassie said. “I didn’t know you had an electric! That’s really cool.”
“A what?”
“An electric truck. You know. Like a Prius, or … I didn’t know they made electric trucks, though.”
Cody looked baffled.
“You just plugged in your truck,” Cassie said, wondering why she needed to point out the obvious. “To charge it, right?”
His mouth twitched. “No. It’s an engine warmer so it starts easier in cold weather.”
“Wait, so …”
“This is a diesel truck.”
“Oh.” Cassie felt like an idiot. An electric truck? What was she thinking?
Cody laughed, not unkindly. “Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t have known. I think it’s cute.”
“Cute! More like ignorant.”
“Just a little New York-ism.” He chucked her softly below the chin. “So—home sweet home,” he said, gesturing at the small building.
As Cassie looked again at the structure she’d thought was an outbuilding, she saw signs that this was the house—a gravel and pavestone
pathway leading up to the front door, curtains in the windows, a pair of shoes left by the front step. She didn’t know what to think. The only cabins she’d ever seen were on her Vail ski trips, and those had been luxury to the extreme: massive, multi-story, with big roaring fireplaces and picture windows that embraced the views. Cody’s cabin, while indeed made of logs, was rough-hewn, to put it mildly. It wasn’t ugly, just tiny and rustic and not adorable like she’d been expecting. But there was a front porch, complete with a rocking chair—although it would feel more complete if there had been two rocking chairs, a his-and-hers.
Built by a single man, for a single man, she thought.
“I’ll show you around while there’s light,” Cody said.
Cassie teetered in her heels as she made her way toward the front door. Cody walked at her pace, not saying anything about the shoes. She heard the happy barking of the dogs from somewhere in the back.
“Do you mind if I let the dogs out?” he asked. “I’ve only been gone an hour, but they act as if I’d abandoned them for days. They’re happy to see you.”
“Of course, please do!”
The dogs were locked up in a fenced area off the side of the house, and Cody let them out just as Cassie got to the porch. They leaped around her with glee, tails wagging, and she was glad to see them in return, and she was glad, too, they were trained enough not to jump on her with their muddy paws. As she gave them attention, Cody joined them on the porch, and when Cassie looked up at him, he had a smile she hadn’t seen on him before, one of total satisfaction. Of homecoming.
“What’s that smile for?’ she said.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “It’s good to have you here.”
“It’s good to be here.”
He opened the front door and gestured for Cassie to enter. The dogs followed. The front half of the cabin was a living room with a wood stove in the corner. An aged black leather sofa had a plaid blanket draped across, and in front of the sofa a homespun-looking wooden coffee table was clean of clutter. The floor was hardwood with a woven native-looking rug in the main area. A single floor lamp burned next to the sofa. None of the fabric patterns or furniture matched or even coordinated. While it was tidy and looked comfortable, it came off as very haphazardly decorated.
He did have a good TV, though, a newer flat screen. And electricity! She hadn’t been entirely sure that would be the case.
“No WiFi, right?”
He’d already told her this by way of explanation for why he wasn’t much of a texter—no WiFi or cell coverage where he lived—but it was such a foreign concept she had to ask again.
“No WiFi, no internet, no cell service,” Cody said. “Well, that’s not entirely true. Occasionally I get a rogue bar or two of reception, but it’s not reliable. Nothing I can count on.”
Talk about disappearing off-grid, she thought. The knowledge she was totally disconnected from the world was equal parts appealing and unnerving.
“So if you needed to call for help …?”
“Smoke signals.”
“Really?” she asked, dumbfounded. “How does that work?”
He laughed. “It was a joke, Cassie. I do have a powerful ham radio, but for the most part I’m on my own out here, for good and for bad.”
“What if someone showed up, intending you harm?”
Like Stalker Doug, she thought. She felt safe from him here, as he’d have no idea to look for her at Bradford Homestead if he did somehow find his way to Golden Falls, but at the same time, she couldn’t help imagining the endless forest on all sides and the long rugged road they’d taken to get here.
“If they did, I’ve got my shotgun right there, so they’d be turning right back around or regretting their decision not to.”
Cassie followed his gesture and saw the shotgun hanging on a rack above the doorframe.
“What if you’re not here, and they laid in wait for you?”
“Honestly, it’s not something that’s ever occurred to me.” His expression was curious. “Does that happen in New York?”
The way he asked made it seem like he suspected it was a specific fear based on experience. That would have been the moment—she could have told him all about her stalker, but she shied away. Talk about a way to kill the romantic vibe! The last thing she wanted was to dredge up the specter of Doug. He’d ruined enough already.
She refocused her attention back on the cabin and sniffed the air.
“Something smells good,” she said.
“It’s the rosemary in the potatoes. I’ll give you the rest of the tour and show you what’s cooking. Dogs, go to your place.”
Timber and Diamond went to an oversized dog bed in the corner and laid down, curled up, apparently content to stay there.
Cody led Cassie through a doorway into a kitchen, the most primitive one Cassie had ever seen. The stove was an ancient, half-size unit of the type she’d seen in some of her New York student friends’ studio apartments, but different in that it was attached to a propane tank. One of the two burners was lit and sliced potatoes were set on low in a cast iron pan.
Cody pulled a baking dish covered in foil from the small refrigerator and slipped it in the oven.
“Salmon,” he told her. “Caught by one of the guys at work.”
“Yum.” Cassie was hungry, and she was trying hard to remain open-minded about this simplified lifestyle. “I can’t wait.”
“It’ll be ready soon. Want some wine in the meantime?”
“Yes, please.”
“My mom’s family is from the Bay Area, so I should know a lot more about wine than I do,” Cody said. “This look okay? The guy at the store said it was good.”
The label said it was from the Russian River area of California. It also looked expensive.
“I’m sure it’s great,” she said. “I don’t know a whole lot about wine, either, except basic stuff about the varieties. I do know pinot noir goes perfectly with salmon, so good choice!”
“Good,” he said, and opened the bottle. “Damn. Sorry. I forgot to buy wine glasses!”
“We can just swig from the bottle,” Cassie joked.
Cody rummaged through a cabinet and pulled out two mismatched coffee mugs. He looked a bit distressed.
Cassie realized he was nervous about her seeing how he lived, worried she’d judge him and find him wanting. She reached for the mugs and held them out as he poured a generous serving.
“Wine tastes the same whether it’s in a fancy expensive glass or a mug like this. It’s all good.”
“Well, cheers to that,” he said, looking relieved as they clinked their mugs.
“Best wine ever,” she said after they’d both taken a long drink. And she wasn’t lying; it was excellent wine. “So the rest of the tour?”
Cody led her back into the main living area and opened the second door.
“The rest of the tour. Just the bedroom.”
Cassie couldn’t deny the buzzy, sexy feeling she got hearing him say “bedroom.” And there his was, a cozy space with pinstripe curtains, a lit lamp on a nightstand, and a sturdy, rustic log-style queen size bed. The bed was neatly made, covered in a navy blue down comforter, with a second quilt folded at the end.
She imagined Cody pulling her onto that bed, holding her, kissing her, putting his hand up her dress … peeling it off, exposing her body to him … and she took another long sip of wine.
The way Cody was looking at her, she wondered if he was thinking the same thing, or if they would even get to dinner.
Ding. A timer went off in the kitchen.
“I’ll get that,” he said, a bit too quickly. “Come hang out with me. Dinner’s just about ready.”
She leaned against the kitchen doorway and watched him pull a fantastic-looking fillet of salmon out of the oven and set it aside. While the fish rested, he served up potatoes onto two plates, each of which already had a generous pile of fresh green salad. Next he placed a portion of fish onto each plate.
“The table’s in there,” he said, nodding back at the living room to the table-for-two. He gestured for her to take the carved wooden chair with a cushion, while he took the folding chair. “Let’s eat.”
The first bite of salmon was heaven. Tender, cleanly flaked, with a dark crust of what seemed to be smoked paprika and other herbs. “Mmmmm,” Cassie said between bites. “This is the best salmon I’ve ever had. Ever. And I’ve had some really good salmon in my life made by some of the most famous chefs in the world.”
“It’s all right,” Cody agreed, and Cassie could tell he was more pleased than he let on. “I marinated it with some blueberries from my bush out back and then did a dry rub my dad and I perfected over the years. Thyme, fresh black pepper, a little brown sugar, and smoked paprika. When it’s the middle of winter and there’s nine feet of snow outside the front door, this meal is definitely a pick-me-up. Minus the fresh salad, of course.”
“Why minus the fresh salad?”
“Ah, right, you haven’t been through a winter yet. The fresh food offerings dwindle, and when they’re in stock, they look pathetic, and you really can’t justify the price, which triples from summer.”
“This dressing’s fantastic.”
It was a creamy buttermilk with herbs that tasted like something she’d had in a hipster restaurant in New York.
“It’s an Alaskan original recipe,” Cody said, and she nodded, impressed. Eyes twinkling, he added, “It’s actually Hidden Valley Ranch from the supermarket.”
Cassie laughed. “Which I’d know if I ever shopped in a grocery store.”
“It is actually an Alaska thing. Ranch dressing was invented by a guy living in the Alaskan bush. Then he moved to California, bought a place, named it Hidden Valley Ranch, and started making the dressing, first for his neighbors, and then started selling it.”
“Really?”
“Yep, made millions off it eventually. Died a rich man.”
“I had no idea.” Cassie took another bite of salad, dipping her forkful in an extra swirl of ranch dressing. “I’ll never eat ranch dressing again without thinking of this story. So, thank you! I love learning new stories about things.”
True North (Golden Falls Fire Book 1) Page 11