Secluded Cabin Sleeps Six(22)

Joshua took the phone from her and stared. “Huh. We lost the signal.”

They’d stopped in town a while ago, hoping to pick up some things—snacks, condoms, wine—even though she knew Mako would have enough expensive bottles to fill a cellar somewhere—some flowers for Liza and Hannah. She didn’t want to arrive empty-handed.

But when they pulled through town, she’d been a little surprised. She’d expected something quaint and maybe a little tony, catering to the renter crowd. But a number of businesses were shuttered, the streets having the air of desertion. There had been a dingy diner, a sad general store, deserted hardware shop, a laundromat that just looked dirty.

The general store shelves seemed just barely stocked—peanut butter, some deflated loaves of white bread, candy. The highest-end item Cricket found hunting through the dusty offerings was a can of Planters cocktail peanuts. The store had plenty of beer, cigarettes, lottery tickets, and jerky, though. Joshua—always the paleo, hence those abs good lord—stocked up on some organic deer jerky.

The man at the counter leered at her, and regarded Joshua—who PS looked like a goddamn supermodel next to the toothless, unshaven man in the red cap and dirty shirt—with naked suspicion.

“Up for the weekend?” he’d asked as she approached with their paltry collection of items, including a box of condoms. The clerk picked up the tidy black box and held it high, looking at it too long. His nails were filthy, cuticles frayed.

“That’s right,” she said keeping her voice cool. Usually she was friendly, chatty. Cricket knew her gifts; she was a pretty, busty blonde, flirty and sweet when she wanted to be. But men like that? They needed to get the message fast: Don’t even think about fucking with me.

She stared at him hard until he put the condoms down and started ringing up the other items. A fly buzzed in the window, knocking itself against the glass over and over. A rickety rack of magazines tilted, holding issues of Gun World, Hunting & Fishing, Prepper’s Household Journal.

“Storm coming in. Big one.”

She’d heard that on the radio but ignored it. Nature wouldn’t dare mess with Mako’s big getaway weekend. He’d wanted this—arranged it, harassed them all until they agreed, reminded them endlessly, paid for it. Some whim, some story he was telling himself about it, no doubt. Even mother nature wouldn’t stand a chance against a Mako narrative.

“We’ll manage.”

“Roads get washed out,” said the clerk, sucking at his teeth. “Might get stranded.”

Oh my god. Shut up.

“Thanks for the warning, buddy,” said Joshua stepping up behind her.

Buddy. Joshua used that word a lot. Sometimes bro, sometimes brah, depending on the situation, the person. It did seem to soften things with other men. The guy behind the counter gave a nod, backed up a bit as Joshua moved to collect their sack of things.

“Have a nice time up there,” he’d said as they left, but it sounded nasty, like a warning. Up where? she wondered. They hadn’t told him where they were staying.

“Have a good one, bro,” said Josh affably, shooting her a look when they got outside. He sang a funny banjo riff and Cricket laughed as they got into his car.

But the encounter had left her with a creepy feeling, deepening her anxiety about the weekend with her best friend, her new love. Her ex. His stunning wife. Who’s idea was this again?

Oh, right. Mako’s.

“Huh,” Joshua said now, still staring at the phone as if willing the signal to return. Finally, he glanced over at her with a crooked grin. “Yep. We’re lost.”

They both started to laugh. He laced his fingers through hers and leaned in for a kiss. It was sweet, and hot. Just like him. Oh my god. He was so, so hot—bedroom eyes, lean but muscular, and much taller than Cricket. Which was nice because she was tallish and sometimes she couldn’t wear heels with the men she was dating. And she really enjoyed wearing heels. They made her legs look awesome.

“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be lost with,” he said softly, hand drifting up her thigh.

Truthfully? She loved him.

She didn’t want to. She hadn’t said anything.

But he lit her up inside like no one else she’d ever known. Conversely, he made her feel calm, safe. If she’d been with Mako, or any of her more recent exes, in a scenario like this there would be yelling, frustration, high stress. Why were they lost? Who’s fault was it? Why was there no fucking service?

But Joshua? No. She’d never seen him lose his temper, never heard a harsh word from him. He was light, easy, kind, nice to everyone. Loving, tender. An amazing fuck.

He leaned in closer, whispered playfully in her ear. “Am I less of a man to you now that you know I can’t get us to our destination without a technological crutch?”

“No,” she said quite seriously. “If anything, you’re more of a man for not losing your shit when we’re out in the middle of nowhere with no cell service and no way to find the cabin.”

She thought about suggesting that they turn around.

“Hmm,” he said, hand now under her skirt, roaming, insistent. She flashed on the creepy guy holding the box of condoms, pushed the thought from her head. She brought her lips to Joshua’s neck, took in the scent of him. Her touch elicited a moan.

And then they were crawling over each other to get into the back seat where they used this lovely moment of lost isolation to have a quickie, his pants down around his tight ass, her skirt hiked up, panties shed.