“Sabrina?” Blue-green eyes looked at her with concern. “Did you want to eat? If you don’t like any of this stuff, I can get you something else.”
“Huh?” It was then she realized that the table was, indeed, laden with food—platters of eggs, a pile of toast, crispy bacon, pancakes smothered in syrup, bagels and smoked fish, coffee and tea. Everything looked freshly made too.
Heat crept up her face as she sat down. She’d been too busy ogling him to notice. No wonder he didn’t answer when she asked if they were “more than friends” last night. He was an Adonis and could probably get any girl he wanted, so why would he want anything to do with her? Cross was way out of her league, and for once, she was glad she had amnesia, because that meant she’d never know if she threw herself at him and he rejected her. She wanted to cringe just thinking about it.
“Did you want—”
“No, this is great. Just great,” she said, trying to sound cheerful as she spooned some eggs onto a plate and grabbed a piece of bacon. “Just great.” The food was delicious, and she didn’t realize how hungry she was until she gobbled down all the eggs and bacon, plus two pieces of toast, which she washed down with coffee. “Thank you.”
He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when the cabin door opened. “Well, as I live and breathe,” came the feminine voice. “I thought Ransom was pulling my leg when he said you were here.”
Two people entered the cabin; the first, a gorgeous, slim redhead who gave Cross a big smile. Her flannel shirt, slim jeans, and knee-high boots clung to her curves and made Sabrina feel horribly underdressed in her loose pajamas.
Behind her was a tall man, not as tall as Cross, but much broader. He wore a black leather vest over his flannel shirt, but she could see tattoos extending from his elbows to his wrists. Though his beard was a shade darker, his dark brown hair with highlights set off his golden eyes. No wait, they were green. Or both?
Cross stiffened, then got up and turned around. “Hello, Silke. Ransom.”
The redhead sauntered up to Cross and pulled him into a hug, and Sabrina felt a hot, tight ball curl in her chest. Who was this woman, and why did she have her hands all over Cross? Sabrina felt an urge to scratch her eyes out.
“You’ve finally decided we were worth a visit, huh?” she asked.
He eyed the other man. “You told her?”
“Hey.” The man held his hands up. “It’s her place. I can’t hide nothing from her.”
She turned to Sabrina, her emerald eyes going warm. “Hi there, I’m Silke Walker,” she said, walking toward her and holding her hand out.
Sabrina stared at it for a moment before taking it. “I’m Sabrina.”
The redhead clasped both hands over hers. “Ransom—that’s my brother over there”—she tossed her head back to the man in the leather vest—“told me that you needed a place to crash because you’ve got some bad people after you.” Her lips pulled back, and Sabrina noticed a long, thin scar that extended from the right edge of her lip all the way to the tip of her cheekbone. “Is it a husband? Boyfriend? Dad?”
“I, uh …”
Silke shook her head. “You don’t have to tell me, sugar. But, please, stay as long as you need.”
Sabrina was speechless, and she felt shame that she’d judged Silke too harshly. “Thank you. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying, but I’ll try not to be too much trouble.”
“Thank you, Silke,” Cross said. “I appreciate it.”
“No trouble at all,” she said, which earned a snort from Ransom. “You’re one to talk. This man saved your life—”
Cross cleared his throat. “We just need a couple of days, and then we’ll be out of your hair.”
“I’m sorry we don’t have much in here,” Silke said, gesturing around the cabin. “It’s not really meant for long stays. We would put you in one of the guest lodges or rooms, but we have other people staying there and they’re at the front part of the property, closer to the highway.”
“Other people?” she asked.
Silke nodded. “I run the Seven Peaks Mountain Lodge and Cabins, but don’t worry, while the lodge sits on the same property as we are, they’re far away enough.”
“Silke owns about fifty acres of land up here,” Cross explained. “And the lodge takes up about thirty. The rest is where Ransom and the MC live.”
“MC?”
“Jonasson,” Ransom said in a warning voice. “Just because I’m letting you stay doesn’t mean you can tell everyone about our business.”
“I’m letting her stay,” Silke said, patting Sabrina’s hand.
Ransom rubbed a hand down his face. “I have shit to do.” Without another word, he left the cabin, the door slamming shut behind him.
“I’m sorry to be causing trouble between you two.” She lowered her gaze.
“Don’t let my brother’s gruff exterior fool you; he’s a sweetheart … most of the time,” Silke explained. “He’s just … he’s had a tough year.”
“You both have,” Cross said. “He told me your father died. I’m sorry.”
“Oh no, I didn’t realize.” Sabrina said. “My condolences.”
Grief marred Silke’s pretty face. “We weren’t expecting it. And … well, Ransom wasn’t his, but Pops never treated him different, you know?”
Sabrina blinked. “Wasn’t his?”
“I
