Slowly, the door opened back up.
2 Mark
A shiver passed through me before I pulled the door open again.
Marie Lee, the most frustrating, safest-playing accountant on this planet. The woman who probably rolled her eyes every time she saw me call, but spoke such calm sense I couldn't help but listen. Even if she never said what I wanted to hear.
Now she stood on my doorstep.
She clutched her arms under a wet, red parka. Hints of light blonde hair peeked out from behind her ears. Her eyes were wide, uncertain, and a gentle brown. She was younger than I expected. I'd always pictured her in her late fifties. No, if I had been given a lineup, the last person I would have chosen as Marie was this girl.
Plus, it changed everything about her sketchy request. I mentally berated myself for letting her stand on the rainy porch. JJ may have left me, but I didn't have to be a jerk.
“Come inside.” I opened the door wider. “It's freezing out there.”
With a grateful half-smile, she stepped onto a towel I'd thrown on the floor as a rug. Lizbeth and JJ married six weeks ago in an outdoor wedding near his favorite local climbing rock. It had taken all of seven days for this place to devolve back to the chaos it had been before her arrival.
I missed it.
Marie—no, Stella—skirted out of my way as I closed the door behind her. She didn't bring anything inside with her. Then again, she probably didn't know what to expect from me, so why bring her bags? I gestured toward the fire with a tilt of my head.
“Have a seat. I'll warm up some crappy hot chocolate, unless you want coffee this late?”
“Hot chocolate sounds great.”
While her parka rustled as she peeled it off, I grabbed a half-gallon of milk from a tiny refrigerator and reached for the crappy hot chocolate packets that were, frankly, insulting to my taste buds after JJ's real-deal homemade stuff.
I shoved that cranky thought away. Lizbeth and JJ were perfect together. I was happy for them. Jealous, but happy.
The cabin remained quiet while Stella peeled out of a pair of fuzzy white boots and padded over to the fire, shivering. Without her parka, she looked as normal as anyone. Blonde hair with darker streaks in a bob around her jawline. Soft eyes. Wiry body. A runner, maybe. It occurred to me that, as my accountant, she knew almost everything about my business. Enough to find it on a cold fall night. But I knew nothing about her.
Talk about unfair advantages.
The microwave dinged, so I pulled the mug out, grimaced when I realized I'd forgotten to wash the old coffee stains out of it, and grabbed a clean one. I'd take the dirty one.
“So.” I leaned back against the sink while the microwave hummed away, then realized I still didn't have a shirt on. No wonder she wouldn't look away from the fire. As casually as possible, I grabbed a shirt from the back of a chair and pulled it on. “You must be in pretty bad shape if you're coming here.”
Did I imagine that grimace? Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, her profile silhouetted against the bright flames. Outside, the rain began to ease.
“Yeah.”
I waited for more, but she didn't elaborate. Once the milk finished warming, I dumped the chocolate powder inside, grabbed two spoons, and headed her way. She turned, giving me another tentative smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
A veritable damsel-in-distress?
Well, maybe I didn't mind being the good guy so much.
“Thanks.” She accepted the mug from me. I sat on the couch a few feet away to give her some space. She sat on a recliner across from me, glanced at me over the top of her cup, then looked away. The spoon clinked against the side of the mug as she stirred.
Oh, she seemed docile, but I'd been on the phone enough with her to know that something else lived under all that uncertainty.
Wildcat.
“Of course I'll give you a place to stay,” I said, just to dissipate the tension in the air. No bruises colored her skin, and she didn't jump at unexpected sounds so far. Didn't seem like she'd been in an abusive situation. No, why would she run to a single male in the middle of nowhere?
But something was surely up.
“Really?” she asked.
“Of course.” I ran a hand over my beard and held back my own grimace. At least I'd showered, but not much else had happened for grooming the last two weeks. No wonder she burst out laughing.
“Thank you.”
There it was. A hint of that confidence again.
I shrugged.
“What would you like me to pay you?” She reached for her back pocket. “Like I said, I have—”
I waved that off. “We'll figure it out later.
She stifled a smile. “I insist.”
“You will. We just don't need to deal with details tonight.”
My phone buzzed against my thigh and I ignored it. An incoming text message from the Hearts on Fire dating app, no doubt. Stupid thing wouldn't stop buzzing, feeding an endless stream of girls that, once I started messaging, lost interest too quickly. Easier to message them back from the computer, anyway.
“So.” I leaned forward, scrubbing hot chocolate off my mustache, which definitely needed a trim. “There's a small cabin behind this one that you can take. Lizbeth lived there until she married my brother and moved out. I haven't stocked it with firewood yet, but I can do that pretty quick.” I lifted an eyebrow. “I assume you have clothes?”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “I have a few bags in my car.”
“Good. Anything I can help with?”
She hesitated, then said, “I just . . . I came here because I wanted to be left alone for a while. I don't want anyone to know I'm here.”
“Sure.”
She blinked. “You're really okay with this?”
“Of course. Is someone after you?”
“Not yet.”
“But will be?”
“I'd rather not go into more details.”
“Are
