“You okay?” Paolo appeared from behind, gripping my shoulders.
I turned and looked up at him. His thick layer of black stubble made his lips stand out as if being presented on a silver platter. And the whites of his dark eyes, though slightly red, likely from a lack of sleep, still captivated me. Something fierce lurked inside his gaze, a sort of dissonance and anger—stubbornness that spoke volumes about who he really was.
He stared down at me and brushed a few strands of hair from my face, but then quickly dropped his hand. “You look hungry.”
I nodded dumbly.
“Maybe getting a little food in you will settle your stomach.”
He walked back toward the road, and I followed, carefully stepping over fallen branches until I reached the SUV.
Once inside, I noticed that Paolo’s eyes were locked on the empty road ahead. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
He snapped out of it. “Nothing. Was just thinking.”
“About?” I asked.
He blew out a breath. “I’m sure we won’t hear from your father for a few days, maybe a week.”
“A week?” I asked, my tone mildly panicked.
“Afraid of being alone with me for that long?” His eyes dropped to my chest but promptly returned to my face.
I felt the tremor return to my stomach, but it wasn’t fear. “Maybe.”
“Good answer.”
Why had he said that? Did he want me to be afraid of him?
“Okaaay,” I sighed. “Any thoughts on how my dad is going to contact us if we don’t have phones?”
“Don’t worry,” he grumbled. “We have our ways.”
I wasn’t sure what their “ways” were, but I had no choice now but to hope this would be over quickly.
An hour later, Paolo stopped at a small mom-and-pop convenience store to pick up supplies—food, toothbrushes, soap, etc. At the checkout, he pulled a huge wad of cash from his jeans, and, naturally, I stared. I’d never seen so much money. And while my eyes were down there, and my mind was a complete mess, they stopped to stare at his other wad.
“Eh-hem,” he said.
My head snapped up. Oh my God. I looked away and followed him to the car, embarrassed as hell that I’d been caught ogling his crotch.
“Where are we going?” I wanted to push my thoughts to a less uncomfortable place.
“There’s a cabin just up the road. There are no phones or Internet, so there’s no risk of you contacting someone you shouldn’t in a moment of weakness.”
He knew me too well.
~ ~ ~
Not long after the pit stop, we turned down a narrow dirt road that was lined with tall pine trees and led us to a rickety gate with a padlock. It looked like the scene of a horror movie waiting to happen. Once deeper inside the property, however, the quaint two-story cabin came into view. It was dark brown with a pitched roof and a large porch.
“Are we safe here?” I asked, thinking not only about the humans, but the animals, too.
“Nothing to be afraid of, except not listening to me.” He smiled warmly, as if to comfort me. I guessed that we were now in familiar territory, since Paolo felt more at ease. It instantly showed because “Robot Paolo” had retreated.
The interior of the cabin, though kind of dark from the wood-paneled walls and plank wood floors, was cozy with a rustic charm—large, overstuffed plaid couch, wood burning stove, neatly folded quilts, and antique ski gear on the walls. The living room had a small dining table off in the corner, and a large open doorway separated it from the small kitchen area.
Paolo unloaded the grocery bags into the cupboards and fridge while I stood in the living room, checking out his collection of books on the mantel. Homer’s Odyssey, Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises...
Pride and Prejudice?
“Whose place is this?” I asked.
“Mine. I come here when I need to decompress.”
A man who decompresses with Austen and Hemingway? I wasn’t certain how to reconcile that thought, so I didn’t try.
“So you live in California then?” I asked, also thinking how odd that would be. Of all the photos of all the men in the world I could’ve picked, I chose a guy who worked for my dad and lived in my state.
“I spend most of my time in California, when I’m not working,” he replied.
Must be fate.
Idiot.
“So they won’t find us here?” I asked. Whoever “they” were.
He glanced at me through the large doorway, with an irritated twitch in his eyes.
“Sorry.” I held up my palms. “Didn’t mean to doubt you, mighty one.”
I went to explore a bit but there wasn’t much to see. There was a loft-style bedroom upstairs. Downstairs had a bath, another small bedroom, the kitchen, and the living room.
“I didn’t take you as a cabin man, Paolo,” I called out, coming down the stairs.
“I am a man of many mysteries.” He came out of the kitchen with a hand towel over his shoulder. “Such as, I love to cook.”