4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

A few hours away my arse! I’ve been driving for nearly four sodding hours. We won’t count the snack breaks because they’re mandatory. Everybody knows a Greggs’ steak bake, and McDonald’s chips are a staple at the services.

Following Jake’s directions, I find myself driving closer to the breathtaking landscape of Snowdonia. Apparently, Dax’s parents had plans to purchase him a luxurious beach house in the south of France for his twenty-first birthday. However, he had other ideas in mind, like wanting a fixer-upper closer to home. So, they bought him a cabin in Wales. According to Jake, it’s a tradition for him and his dad to spend their summers there, bonding while they repair and improve the place. He said they used to go hiking, and then camp out under the stars. It sounds wonderful.

There are moments when I ponder about my father’s character, and whether I have any similarities to him. What would life have been like if he were around. It was always just me and Mum.

When I asked her about my dad, she gave a vague response, mentioning that he wasn’t ready for commitment. She was determined to give me the best life she could, even though she was on her own.

We were always poor, and I had to wait to get the things my friends had, all the new toys that came out or the latest trend in fashion and by the time Mum had saved for it, it was no longer popular. Even with our tight food budget, she found a way to prepare yummy meals for us. Working at a bakery close by, she would bring home the day’s leftovers, ensuring that our plates were always full. Unfortunately, this also contributed to my weight gain during my teenage years. Despite everything, she always gave her best and made me her top priority. There was never a shortage of love in our house.

Mum was my best friend till I met Jake. Her warm words of encouragement never failed to lift my spirits. The dementia has taken away so much, including the memories of the little things that made her who she was. I miss her even though she’s still here.

Swiping away the stray tears of my memories so I don’t crash the car, I remind myself that we never know what tomorrow may bring, so live in the moment. I’m determined to enjoy this cabin break.

It feels like I’ve been driving on the A5 for half my life when some knobhead cuts me off. “Watch out, you bloody idiot!” Slamming on the breaks, as I try to regain my composure. Jesus, I swear people are getting worse at driving, not better. Who cuts someone up on an A-road? Mr Audi Twat Waffle, that’s who.

On the side of the road, a big red spray-painted sign for a Christmas market catches my eye. Deciding I could really use a break to stretch my legs, I take the next left and follow the signs. I end up in a car park bustling with activity. Luckily, I’m able to snag an empty bay. There’s so much excitement all around this time of year. It makes me smile as a cute couple walks past, hand in hand, wearing matching red bobble hats.

There’s a festive sparkle in the air as anticipation builds and people rush to the shops to stock up on delicious Christmas food and goodies ready for the big day.

Acting on Jake’s advice, I made a detour to Tesco’s on my way here, loading up my car with a tempting array of snacks and goodies to last me the entire week. It’s a good thing it’s cold out—my stuff will stay cool in the car while I have a quick mooch around the market.

Getting out of the car with Trixy’s hat snugly on my head, I hastily zip up my cosy, furry blue coat and slide my hands into my gloves. I’m glad I dressed warmly today with my blue cargo pants and black Buffalos . It’s freezing out here. Still no snow, but looking upwards, the sky is just pure white, a sure sign that it’s on the way. I take extra care as I walk because the ice on the ground makes it slippery. No broken bones here, thank you.

First off, I need a hot chocolate, extra creamy. My nose hunts down the food truck selling the warm, chocolaty goodness.

“You want marshmallows?” asks the older lady currently making my drink.

“It’s a crime not to have them.” I offer her a broad smile.

“My thoughts exactly. Here you go, love,” she sing-songs.

“Thank you. Have a good day.”

With my new drink in hand, I sip it while strolling through the busy market. The stalls are all decked out with lights and garlands. A mixture of cinnamon and vanilla invades my senses. All the deliciously sweet treats smell amazing.

My Christmases used to be a time spent with Mum, but since she went into the nursing home, it’s just been me. Even though Mum’s memories of Christmas may fade, I refuse to let the festive spirit wane. So, I walk around the market soaking in the sights and smells while I load up on my festive cheer.

Walking past a local cheese stall reminds me of the last couple of Christmases when Jake and Lewis would come over in the evenings, and we would indulge in a feast of cheese and crackers while watching Christmas films until we fell into a food coma. We would improvise a camp on the living room floor using cushions and duvets, as I only had a tiny, one-bedroom flat. A wave of sadness tries to pull me down as I realise I won’t get to experience that this year. I stop and take a deep, calming breath. Nope, bugger off, melancholy. I’m going to have my own little Christmas in a cabin in the Welsh forest. If only I had someone to spend it with, but hopefully one day, I’ll meet that special someone. Who knows, right?

As if on cue, whenever I think of my future with a possible partner, the image of Jake’s dad pops into my head and my lips tingle with the ghost sensation of that one kiss. The kiss to end all kisses. Ugh, stop it, Tris! No reason to go wishing for things that aren’t going to come true, anyway.

With a demonstrative pep in my step and more pretty stalls to look at, I carry on round the market. I can’t resist picking up some vibrant baubles; my lack of self-control and the joy of spending money get the best of me. It’s not until I reach the last stall where I’ve just bought a bright red bauble that says ‘ Balls Deep ’ that it dawns on me—I have nothing to hang the baubles on. As far as I know from the stories Jake has told me, Dax only goes to the cabin in the spring and summer months. So, I doubt he has anything there that’s Christmas-y. Good going, Tris. No tree, just a bag full of balls. With a shrug, I decide to just save them for next year.

On my way back to the car, I must have taken a detour through the market, because in front of me is the stall I need.

Sixty quid later, and I’m the owner of a real tree. I feel robbed! The tree in question is just chilling on the roof of my car. No regard for how much the bugger just cost me. Mr Spruce is tied down with some rope the tree guy gave me. Thank God the satnav says I’ve only got 30 minutes left. My excitement at finally getting there is bubbling. I crank up the volume on the car stereo, the sound of Tony Bennett singing ‘ Winter Wonderland ’ blasting my ears as I drive the last few miles.

Half an hour later, I turn down the music so I can see better. I’m currently driving up a steep road, and I can feel the tyres sliding. Just up ahead, I see a quaint brown cabin nestled among the trees. With no other buildings around, I’m guessing this must be it. Pulling up outside, I shut off the engine and check the message Jake sent with all the details.

The sign next to the front door is visible from the car window.

Big Bear Cabin .

Looks like I’m here. I get out of the car and take in my surroundings with a little spin. Towering trees surround the cabin, their branches stretching towards the sky like they are reaching for something I can’t see. Some of them still cling to their last remaining brown leaves. It’s quiet here and a little eerie. The animals in the forest are probably all snuggled up for winter hibernation. The only sign of life here is me.

I shiver in the bitter cold as I take in the large, dark wood cabin. It’s much bigger than I was expecting. Since I kind of had a small shed in mind, this is a mansion in my book. It looks like Dax has taken good care of the place, although it’s clear that no one has been here recently with all the scattered leaves that have built up. Jake’s comment about his dad’s preference for summer visits suddenly makes sense. But I’m here now to love on this place and keep it company.

On the left-hand side of the porch, a pile of chopped wood fills a storage box. The box is sitting under a large window. Next to it, a broom and shovel are mounted on the front wall of the cabin. A large red shed is situated just off to the side of the building. Moving closer to the front steps, looking over to my right, there’s a wooden bench under the next window that invites you to sit and enjoy the views of the Welsh countryside. On the backrest, I can just make out the names Dax and Jake, not very skilfully carved, but it’s cute all the same.

Holding onto the rail as I walk up the four timber steps, my feet crunch frost-covered leaves. Just as Jake said, there is a small brown box with a cute little door sitting next to the large wooden front door. A keypad is revealed when I pull it open, and I punch in the code Jake sent me. Taking the cold metal key in my hand, I close the box and insert it into the lock.

Pushing the door open, I’m instantly hit with a musty smell, but it’s not unpleasant. There’s something comforting about the mix of dust, wood, and a hint of spice as I step inside and stamp my feet on the mat. Looking around near the door for a light switch, I’m greeted by an imposing axe on the wall. I hope I don’t need to use that to fight off a yeti!

The room bursts into life, pleasantly surprising me, and I survey the space, my gaze bouncing around. There are high ceilings, at least twelve feet tall, and wood beams frame the building. The left side of the cabin is open plan, with the living room and kitchen areas merged. It’s bright and airy, with large windows showcasing the stunning views. I can already imagine how cosy the place will feel once I get the fire going. If I’d known how great this place was, I would have brought more decorations.

Two rustic-looking chandeliers hang from the beams. One in front of the brick fireplace that climbs the wall to the roof, and another in front of me by the door. The tan sofa positioned in front of the fireplace has my name on it. I can’t wait to snuggle up on it.

My gaze wanders around the room, to the kitchen. It’s a decent size that blends beautifully with the cabin’s dark wood décor. A table and two chairs sit in the middle, a cute red-and-white tablecloth on top.

All around the dark wooden floor, large cream rugs fill the space. To my right are two doors. I open the door closest to me, and a quick look inside reveals a bathroom with a large claw-foot bath and an overhead shower. Yes, please , to a long soak in there tonight, I think.

Closing the door, I make my way to the second one, pushing it open to reveal the only bedroom. Strange that there’s only one room in here.

This room is stunning, though. A king-size bed sits proudly in the middle of the room, a navy cover and cream blanket draped across the end. It, too, is surrounded by a large rug that stretches across most of the floor.

As I explore the room, my eyes gravitate towards the dark, fitted wardrobe on the left-hand side. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I slide open one door. Yes, they are on fancy runners. The sight that greets me is a treasure trove of clothes belonging to Dax, I assume. I can’t resist the urge to run my hand along the row of cardigans, savouring the feel of the soft wool against my face as I inhale deeply. The faint smell of cologne lingers on the blue cardigan I’m currently smushing my face into. Dax must have worn it before hanging it back up. It’s a musky scent with subtle notes of teakwood. It’s absolutely heavenly.

There’s nothing like a man in a cardi to get my pulse peaking and my cock a-leaking!

I make my way over to the double window, taking in the heavy, floor-length navy curtains. Looking outside to a picturesque scene of the sprawling forest and the road I had recently driven up, the peaceful beauty of the world unfolds before me, soothing my mind.

The leaves and ground are adorned with a faint frost, sparkling like tiny diamonds, a promise of the snow to come, hiding it all until spring. Everything is tranquil and beautiful. When a shiver runs through me, I’m reminded that I need to unpack the car and get some heat going in this place. As stunning as the cold looks right now, I have a feeling it gets bloody crisp in here at night.

I get to work starting a fire in the big-ass fireplace, so I don’t freeze to death. No, thank you. The cold and I are not besties.

Conveniently—and luckily—everything I need is nearby. Logs, kindling, and matches are all neatly piled in a basket next to the hearth, likely left by Dax precisely for this reason. While I’ve never made a fire before, I’m going to give it my best shot.

After assembling the logs into a cone shape, I ignite a small piece of kindling and carefully place it at the centre, ensuring it continues to burn. Lots of late-night TikTok reels have come in handy! I knew there was a reason for me staying up late, doom-scrolling my phone every night. Just call me Bear Grylls.

Dax has clearly put a lot of effort into renovating this cabin, and I’m glad I decided to come here. Now that the fire is blazing, the cabin emanates a warm, homely atmosphere. I love how the walls are adorned with framed pictures of him and Jake. He really is a great dad to my best friend.

For a moment, I miss Mum again. I can’t help it. She would have loved it here. I can envision her baking in the kitchen all day, then sitting by the fire, knitting in the evenings. It hurts my heart so much that she won’t get to experience these things in life anymore, and to top it off, she doesn’t even remember the things she did accomplish. But I’m reassured knowing she’s well looked after in Willows. I linger in my sadness for a few more moments, but I know I need to pull up my big boy pants, or lack thereof because commando is how I roll. Standing, I take a deep breath and get back on track for my week here.

I bring in my shopping and store it all away. The kitchen provides everything you could need in a cabin: a fridge, freezer, a large double oven, and a dishwasher. Earlier I found a laundry room and the door to a pantry that was still well-stocked with dry foods. My whole flat would fit in the living room of this place. I can’t wait to make this cabin smell amazing with all the Christmas cooking I plan to do. I’m only a bit sad that it will only be me eating it all. But It’s fine. I’m fine.

Once I’m finished in the kitchen, I make my way to the bedroom to unpack, moving over some of Dax’s clothes in the wardrobe to put mine in their place. Looking at the garments I brought with me, it’s clear they were not meant for the forest. But seeing as it’s just me here this week, I still wanted to feel sexy. Basically, crop tops, shorts, and a couple of barely there skirts.

Next, I place my favourite dildo in the bedside drawer alongside Dax’s knick-knacks. It’s an eight-inch replica, mimicking the real deal, complete with prominent testicles that make a satisfying sound against my arse when I thrust into my hole. While it may not match the feel of a real dick in my arse, I have no complaints! I’m not going to be celibate just because I’m in the middle of nowhere. I’m a sexual person! Actually, I might even jerk off in front of the fire tonight and pretend it’s Dax’s hand.

I slip on my vibrant-red boots Jeb found for me in a charity shop and wrap myself up in my coat before heading outside to the car to bring in the tree. The approaching night casts a shadow over the surroundings, transforming them into a somewhat ominous sight. The serene brightness of the day is fading, replaced by a calm yet mysterious darkness. Where’s a burly lumberjack when you need ’im?

With a grunt, I heave the tree off the back of the car roof, and it thuds onto the floor. Pine needles scatter as I struggle to drag its thick trunk towards the steps. My feet slide from under me and end up landing on my butt. “ OOF . That’s gonna hurt later, and I didn’t even get pounded,” I say to the quiet forest. “Whose brilliant idea was it to get a tree?” I mumble. “Oh, yeah, mine.”

Despite my wet and uncomfortable rear end, I persevere, dusting myself off, and hauling the beast into the cabin. For now, it can temporarily stand in the corner between the window and the fireplace. That’s a tomorrow problem.

With pine needles digging into me and damp clothes, I head to the bedroom to swap into comfy green shorts that perfectly complement my ginger curls. I pair them with my favourite pink crop top, adorned with a lollipop graphic that cheekily says, ‘ Suck it .’ Ready to satisfy my hunger, I make my way to the kitchen, hit Play on a playlist on my phone, and sway my hips to Shakin Stevens’ ‘ Merry Christmas Everyone .’