Page 19 of Playing With The Mountain Man

I didn’t catch Cody’s reply. The wind whistled, and leaves stuck to my legs.

We made it to the truck, but instead of climbing in, Cody led me right by it.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, confused.

“To warm up,” he replied, keeping up the pace.

A moment later, we were standing on the porch of the most beautiful cabin I’d ever seen, the same one we’d driven by earlier.

“I don’t think we should be here,” I repeated, starting to sound like a broken record.

Cody didn’t answer. Instead, he punched in the code on the panel beside the door, and I heard the lock click. When he shoved open the door, I gasped.

“Come on. We need to get dry and warmed up.” He ushered me inside.

When the door clicked closed behind me, I let out the breath I’d been holding. If I thought the outside was something special, then the inside was a dream. The double-height ceiling with thick timber beams. A stone fireplace. Oversized leather couches buried beneath piles of patchwork throw rugs and mismatched cushions. And the smell. Oh my god, the smell. It was pine and something I couldn’t place but never wanted to forget. It smelled like a warm hug.

“Cody?” I questioned as I dripped on the mat inside the door.

“Let me grab you a towel,” he replied, scampering off.

I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the chill. It had seeped in, bone deep, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to feel my toes again.

When Cody reappeared, he had a light blue towel draped around his neck and another in his hands.

Gratefully, I accepted it and tried to dry myself. “Whose place is this?” I asked, unable to let it go. Obviously, Cody knew whoever owned it. He’d walked through the front door without flinching.

“Mine,” he replied simply, flashing me a smile.

“It’s stunning,” I told him, my teeth chattering.

“Oh my god, Tillie, you’re freezing. Why don’t you jump in the shower and warm up? I’ll find you something dry to put on,” he offered.

“S-s-sounds good,” I confirmed.

Cody led me deeper into his house. Picture frames lined the walls, but I didn’t have time to pay too much attention. I was dripping onto his hardwood floors, leaving puddles everywhere I went.

When he pushed open a door, he revealed the most luxurious bathroom I’d ever seen, with an oversized tub, a double vanity, and the biggest shower in Wattle Creek. With its dual rainfall shower heads, it screamed heaven.

“There are fresh towels under the sink, and anything else you should need is in the drawers. I’ll leave some clothes outside the door. Come find me when you’re ready,” he instructed.

“I may be a while,” I mumbled, stepping onto the marble floor.

Cody chuckled. “Take your time. The tub has massage jets if you want to take it for a spin,” he added, and it took all I had not to moan at his invitation.

He closed the door with a soft click, leaving me to get cleaned up. I stepped in front of the mirror and let out a squeak. I looked like a drowned rat. My hair was plastered in damp strands to my forehead, and mud was splattered on my dress. My first date in forever, and this is how it turned out. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was my last.

I stripped off, my dress landing with a wet thunk on the floor before I reached in and turned on the faucet. A moment later, with the room filled with steam, I stepped into the oversized shower and groaned. The jets provided the perfect pressure. At first, the water stung as it hit my icy skin, but as soon as I warmed up, I began to relax. I grabbed the bottle of body wash and squeezed a dollop into my palm before lathering up. It was a scent I’d never smelled before, but I loved it instantly. Passionfruit and peony.

After the longest shower I’d ever had, I stepped out and grabbed another towel. Drying off, I stood under the heater and breathed in the fresh linen scent. I wrapped it around me, knotting it between my boobs before cracking open the door. True to his word, a pile of dry clothes sat on the floor. I scooped them up and hurried to shut the door.

Once I was dressed, looking like a clown in a pair of Cody’s sweatpants that were way too long and I’d pulled the drawstring as tight as it would go, a tank top, and a hoodie, I shuffled back out to the living area.

I don’t know how long I’d been in the bathroom, but Cody was standing at the kitchen counter pouring wine. He looked like he’d showered and wore a pair of gray sweats and a long-sleeve navy shirt with the arms pushed up.

“You look …”

“Like I’m playing dress-ups?” I finished for him.