by Ann, Natalie
She made him not want to be alone, not to have all that space. He wasn’t changing for anyone. He was who he was. Just like she was who she was. But he liked that Sophia made him feel like he could choose.
He had seen the different sides of her over time. Heard Kaitlin talk about how Sophia always had to pretend or act to fit in, how her family was more dysfunctional than he thought possible. Yet, she always seemed so well-adjusted and self-assured. He wanted her to be herself too.
And he thought she was. Which was why she was scared. She’d told him that once. Years ago, she’d said that he made her drop her guard when no one else had. He had told her he liked that, and he wanted her to feel comfortable around him. Even if it scared her.
She had laughed and shaken her head slightly. He never knew if she was agreeing or disagreeing.
***
Sophia picked up her cell phone again, looked at it, then placed it down. What was wrong with her? She was mentally willing Phil to send her a text or to call her. Anything.
He had stayed over on Friday night, gone home Saturday morning, and she hadn’t seen him since. She had things she had to do over the weekend, work that she needed to catch up on so she didn’t get that far behind, and she knew he did too. Kaitlin had asked her to go to dinner on Sunday. Normally she would have said yes, but not now.
If Phil didn’t ask her, then maybe he didn’t want her there. She knew he needed and liked his space and she didn’t want to crowd him. She wasn’t hurt he didn’t ask her, not really.
Then Monday came and went, and still no word.
She never cared before about talking to someone this often. And she had never been so unsure of herself or her next move before either. The entire situation was beyond the normal structure she kept in her life. All those doubts and ideas about what she wanted started to come crashing forward.
All those years of calm and cool were going right out the window with Phil. Be yourself, he’d always told her. And she was, for the most part. However, part of her wanted to call him, wanted to just say hi. Only she knew that was how things started going wrong with Linda and him. Kaitlin had told her before how Phil hated that he never had space with Linda.
The hell with it. Saying hi shouldn’t be the end of the world. She could be blasé about it. Worst-case scenario, he ignores the message. Picking up her phone, she texted. Want to switch jobs today?
Instantaneously her phone went off. Are you kidding me? I hate accounting and numbers.
Chuckling, they lapsed back to their teasing ways. A few more texts and they agreed to dinner tomorrow night. There, she felt better. She would see him tomorrow. No need to even talk until then. She did the right thing and made the right choice. She needed to stop doubting herself.
It was hard for her to believe she taught Kaitlin everything she knew about flirting and handling men. It seemed she forgot it all in trying to deal with Phil. But she was getting back to it. She could figure it out.
Important
Late Saturday morning Sophia zipped up her bag, picked it up off her bed and then grabbed the small bag containing her toiletries. She was heading to Phil’s for the night.
The invitation had come as a shock, but she was pleased just the same. She had known—through Kaitlin of course—that Phil very rarely brought people to his house other than family and close friends. Least of all the women he dated.
Thinking back, she remembered how Kaitlin was stunned it had taken Phil almost four months to invite Linda to his house, and even then, her visits were few and far between that first year.
With a final glance around her bedroom, she saw everything was in place and picked up her two bags, then headed toward her car. He gave her directions and it wasn’t far, but he was in a more remote part of the lake. Not taking any chances, she plugged his address into her GPS.
Fifteen minutes later, she pulled off the road onto a long gravel driveway. No houses in sight and plenty of trees. She really hoped her GPS wasn’t wrong. Another minute down the road—she was going at a snail’s pace at this point, especially since she knew there was nowhere to turn around. She’d have to back up or continue on.
Before she knew it, the driveway widened and in front of her was a huge log cabin. Totally unexpected—not that she knew what to expect.
Having never been inside of a log cabin before, she was curious. Her tastes had always run more toward the modern and streamlined. Bright and clean crisp lines, not so much wood. She always had visions of darkness with log cabins.
Pulling behind his truck, which was parked in the garage, she shut her car off, walked around to the back and grabbed her bags out of the trunk, then made her way through the garage to a side door. Opening it, she discovered a small mudroom. From the front of the house she didn’t even know it was there. It had been hidden by trees and shrubs. But once inside, she saw a wall of windows with a view of the lake.
Taking her shoes off and leaving them by his work boots and sneakers, she knocked once, heard his answer and opened the door. Placing her bags on the floor, she looked around and had to bite back her gasp. Definitely not at all what she expected.
The breakfast room was modern. A light olive color on the walls, almost white actually, but a tiny hint of that green in it. There was a small table in front of the windows facing the lake. A few steps in, she was in a very state-of-the-art and impressive kitchen. Bright and cheery, the complete opposite of what she thought when she pulled up.
White cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and a beautiful muted green glass backsplash that went halfway up the wall with more of the paint from the breakfast room on the walls up to the ceiling. The countertop was beautiful white quartz with swirls of gray and faint flecks of the green tying everything together.
Walking in farther, she passed the L-shaped counter and took note of a few bar stools on the other side. Her eyes widened—now this was a log cabin. Beautiful wood floors, the same wood as the walls and ceiling. It was amazing. And not the least bit dark. There was no way it could be, not with the French doors leading to the deck and the view of the lake. Or all the large tall windows, even several skylights above.
Glancing around more, she realized the room was massive. There was a stunning stone fireplace that went from floor to ceiling on one wall, built-in shelving units on each side, and large comfortable pieces of furniture all around. It was cozy, comfortable and surprisingly perfect in her eyes.
She looked over at Phil sitting on the couch, quietly watching her take in his home. There was a look on his face, almost trepidation, but she pushed it aside and walked over to sit next to him. Then cuddled into him and gave him a kiss. “I like your house. A lot.”
“Do you?” he asked, his voice soft.
“I do. To my amazement.”
“What does that mean?”
“I didn’t know what to expect when I pulled up. I’ve never been in a log cabin before and always had all these visions of camping and darkness. But that isn’t what it’s like here at all.”
“No. Log cabins can be dark, and I didn’t want that.”
“I think I am almost disappointed in the kitchen,” she said, chuckling.
“Why?”
“I didn’t expect it to be so modern or have regular walls.”
“Regular walls?” he asked, a touch of humor in his eyes, she saw.
“Painted walls. I expected everything to be wood,” she clarified.
“I like the wood, but wanted a break from it throughout the house.”
“So the whole house isn’t wood?”
“Let’s find out.” He stood up and pulled her up next to him. “I’ll give you a tour.”
They walked a few steps, and he opened a door to reveal an office of sorts. It looked more like a studio in her eyes. All wood, definitely log cabin style. His architect desk and regular desk, along with a few chairs all faced the lake. Built-in shelving units lined one wall, all filled with blueprints and books. It was a nice space. “It seems very calmi
ng in here.”
“It is. I spend a lot of time in here. I wanted the view—the peace and quiet of it all.”
He placed his hand on her lower back and guided her back through the grand family room and down a hallway before the kitchen. Opening a door, he showed her a small half bath with light blue walls and, even more astonishing, a feature wall covered in light wallpaper.
A few more steps down the hall was a formal dining room on one side and another smaller living room on the other, both completed in wood, floor to ceiling.
He led her up the stairs that were placed in between the rooms she viewed, off the front door.
***
Phil placed his hand on her lower back again, ushering her up the stairs to the upper level. It was important to him that she liked his home. It was a part of him, said a lot about him and who he was.
If she didn’t understand that, or didn’t like it, it made a difference.
He very rarely brought women to his home. He found most didn’t care for the seclusion or the log cabin feel of it. Linda had always hated it. Often told him if she could live in the kitchen alone she would love it, but the rest of the house she didn’t care for and was always asking him to put sheetrock up and paint it, to take some of the wood away.
He thought he had a good mix of modern and traditional in the house, but he wasn’t willing to do any more than what was done. And the last thing he ever planned on doing was moving. He picked this piece of land for a reason and nothing was getting him off of it.
That Sophia liked what she saw so far touched him. He would have known if she was lying, but she wasn’t. He’d watched her every movement when she walked in the side door. He could see her through the kitchen from where he’d been seated on the couch in the living room.
He noted the look of surprise on her face when she first walked in, then the appreciation as she moved through and looked around. Holding his breath, he worried she wouldn’t like the log cabin feel of the living room, but he was wrong.
Her eyes widened, a soft smile crossed her face and she took everything in slowly—the smile never leaving her face once, nor the look in her eyes.
He opened the first door at the top of the stairs, a spare bedroom painted in off-white with a bed in the corner. “There are two more bedrooms up here, all similar to this one. I kept the colors neutral, something I can change easily enough at a later date.”
“Can I ask why you didn’t go with the wood up here?”
“Disappointed?”
“No, not really. Just curious.”
“A bedroom should represent the person who stays in it. I didn’t want to force an all-wood room on a kid some day. I want them to be able to have their own space. If they decide they want the log cabin feel I can rip the sheetrock down, but this way gives more options.”
“That’s sweet.”
“That I put sheetrock up is sweet?” he asked, mystified over her comment.
“No. That you were thinking ahead and wanting any children you have to be able to create his or her own space.”
He felt himself flush at her compliment, then tried to hide his embarrassment. “We all had our own rooms growing up. Alec and I had different tastes and my parents let us decorate our rooms to our own styles. I remember appreciating that, not being forced to stay in a space that didn’t suit me.”
“That’s funny. My parents always did the same thing. As much as I’ve moved, I was always allowed to do what I wanted with my bedroom. Funny how we both had the same thing and both appreciated it.”
Phil nodded, mildly astounded to hear her say that, but pleased just the same. He opened another door. “Hall bath here.”
“Only a shower stall?” she asked.
“It’s a guest bath really. There is a full bath with a tub connecting the other two bedrooms.”
“Makes sense.”
“And this is the master.” He opened the double doors revealing the room. She took in the wood on the floor, walls and ceiling. Lots of windows and a spectacular view of the lake.
“This is beautiful.”
“Really?” he asked.
“Absolutely. It’s so relaxing in here. Almost like a vacation away from home. It makes me want to relax, snuggle under the covers and be lazy. I bet in the wintertime it feels like a mountain retreat.”
“It does,” he said softly. “Especially if I light the fireplace.”
She swiveled around fast to where he pointed out the fireplace on the wall at her back. “Oh boy. Now I’m in love.” She rushed over and ran her hands across the stones that matched the fireplace downstairs. “Do you use it often?”
“Not really. Just a few times a year, if it gets really cold. I don’t spend a lot of time in the bedroom, nothing more than sleeping really.”
“First cold night, will you promise to light the fireplace for me?” she asked excitedly. He was shocked but pleased she asked and seemed so enthusiastic over it. “I’ll have to think of the perfect meal to make. We could eat dinner up here in front of the fire. Hide away in here for an entire day. It would be so romantic.”
Oddly charmed, he smiled. He’d always thought of doing that. He wasn’t a romantic, at least he’d never thought he was, but no one had ever wanted to do that. Phil thought it was strange that whenever he made the suggestion to someone he was dating—women he had been dating long enough to bring to his house—they never wanted any part of it.
“Definitely,” he replied, and gave her a hug.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“Thank you for liking my house. It means a lot to me.”
“I have to say I’m surprised I like it myself.” She laughed at his startled look. “Considering it’s the first log cabin I’ve ever been in and my imagination overrode my reasoning when I pulled up. I really do like it. It definitely speaks to who you are.”
She got it. Understood that about him and seemed to accept it. He couldn’t have been happier right now. “Let me show you the bathroom.”
He opened the door and showed her around the room. No log cabin feel in here. Light gray walls, the same countertop from the kitchen on the dual vanity, with splashes of the light green in the decor. The tiles in the shower were a mixture of grays and greens, with a deep soaker tub on the opposite side.
She frowned and he thought for sure she was disappointed, but instead she asked, “Where’s the closet?”
He laughed. “That’s your question?”
“That’s an important question. Besides, as a woman, I think what you did in here is great. Better lighting. It’s nice and bright,” she mused. “That’s important for applying makeup. It works really well. A bathroom isn’t really for anything more than getting ready or getting clean.”
He’d always felt the same way, but knew how some women were about their bathrooms and having a spa-like feel. “I only have one walk-in closet, sorry.”
Opening the door, he heard her gasp. “One is good if it’s this big. Wow, this is bigger than my bedroom right now.”
He grinned and looked around. It was big, lots of built-in units, mostly bare right now. He didn’t have a lot of clothing. But he’d built this house knowing he wanted a wife and kids some day and tried to keep that in mind—all the things that a woman would want or look for. He was more than excited that Sophia not only liked his style and tastes, but also felt the same way he did about why he did the things he did here.
“Did you bring your bags in, or did you leave them in the car?” He had totally forgotten about them. He’d been too consumed with the importance of her reaction to his home.
“They’re by the door in the kitchen. We can bring them up later.”
“I’ll go get them. First, I’ll show you the lower level and walk you down to the lake.”
“Lower level? Is your basement finished too? Is everyone’s on the lake?”
“I don’t know about everyone on the lake,” he said smiling, “but everyone in our family as well as our friends’ hom
es. It’s common to raise the house up and have a walkout basement that leads to the lake. Not too many people have suites down there, but usually a family room. Maybe a small bath to use rather than tracking sand and dirt through the house.”
“Let me guess, yours is as finished as the rest of the house. I bet it’s log cabin style too.”
She was right, but he wanted to know. “Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s your style and it would be easier to keep clean.”
Again, she was right. It was silly really, how important it was that she liked his home. But it wasn’t just a place to live. It was his life, his livelihood.
As a child he always loved drawing homes, different styles and tastes. But the ones that drew him in the most, the ones that touched him were the simple styles. The cabin in the woods, the mixture of old and modern.
He could design anything, and had, but most weren’t what he wanted to be surrounded by. He was at peace in this house, and he needed someone to be at peace with him here.
Alec was right: no more comparisons and no more measurements. This simple house tour revealed the one thing holding him back from ever really committing to someone.
Watching her face brighten when she asked him to light the fireplace in his room on the first cold night had him catching his breath. She didn’t notice. She was too busy running her hands over the stonework and examining it up close after she rushed over to it.
He’d be willing to bet she had no clue that she assumed they would still be together months from now. It naturally slipped out of her mouth as if it were a given.
What might have sent chills of fear down his spine before when a woman made that assumption had the opposite effect on him this time. He was actually looking forward to it, and wishing for spring and summer to vanish, even fall. He was now longing for that cold night of winter to spend with her.