Chapter 2 - Russell

I can't believe my damn luck. Of course the first woman to stumble into my neck of the woods in years has to be absolutely gorgeous. From her pretty eyes to those tempting curves, she's hitting every single one of my buttons.

And after being isolated out here alone for so long, I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself around her.

"I've never actually camped before," she admits, chewing on that plump lower lip. "I don't even have a tent or anything."

Ah hell, she's really selling the whole damsel in distress thing, isn't she? I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose, struggling against the urge to swoop in and play the white knight.

I shouldn't help her. I know I shouldn't. But how can I leave her stranded out here defenseless when her pretty face is looking at me so desperately?

"Look, I've got a little cabin not too far from here," I find myself saying against my better judgment. "You can come back with me for the night. But you've got to respect my rules, you hear? And rule number one is no asking questions about why I'm living out here like a hermit, got it?"

She bobs her head eagerly, wild curls bouncing around her face.

"Yes, absolutely, no questions! Thank you so much. You're seriously saving my life right now. By the way, I’m Lyla."

I let out a harsh breath and scrub a hand down my whiskered cheek. What am I getting myself into here? Having her around is bound to be a pretty big temptation, especially if she doesn't stop looking at me with those big, innocent eyes and that killer pout.

"I’m Russell. But, alright, then, let's get moving before it gets too dark," I grunt, pushing to my feet. “And stay close, you hear? I can't risk you getting turned around out here again."

We trek through the thickening shadows of the forest, my eyes adjusted enough to make out the trail ahead. Every so often, I glance over my shoulder to make sure she's still following close behind. She is, though not without a fair amount of grumbling about not being able to see a damn thing.

I should just keep my mouth shut and get her to the cabin as quickly as possible. The less conversation, the better. But that annoying voice in the back of my mind pipes up, making me cave.

"So, what were you even doing out here anyway?"

Instead of simply answering, she shoots me a sly look.

"I'll tell you what I was doing if you let me ask you a question, too."

I scrunch my nose at her cheekiness.

"You probably shouldn't be bargaining with the guy offering you a place to spend the night."

"That's exactly why I want to ask you something," she counters without missing a beat. "So, I know you're trustworthy and not some creep."

I huff out a gruff laugh at that. She's got spunk; I'll give her that. And I can't really argue with her logic about wanting to suss out my intentions after I basically insisted that she come with me.

"Fine, ask your question. But you'd better answer me after."

She worries that plump lower lip between her teeth, as if contemplating what sort of query will suffice.

"Why are you really living all alone out here in the middle of nowhere?"

Straight for the jugular, this one. I lance her with a sidelong look but then let out a defeated sigh. I did say she could ask one question.

"I've got my reasons for living out here," I say evasively.

She frowns. "That's not really an answer."

"Well, it's the only one you're going to get from me." I shoot her a look that quells any further argument on the matter—at least for now.

With a huff, she seems to accept my vague response.

"Fine, I guess it's my turn then. I'm out here because I left my whole life back in Pine Valley to move to Sweetheart Falls for a new job. But then, two months later, I got fired out of nowhere!"

She shakes her head, curls bouncing wildly. "I was so stupid and impulsive to uproot everything like that. I never should've come here in the first place. What was I thinking?"

I've never seen someone so confident in their feistiness one second, then so pissed at themselves the next. Part of me wants to laugh at the contrast, but I simply nod along as she vents.

"Ugh, I'm so sorry," she says abruptly, cheeks pinking. "I didn't mean to just word-vomit all over you like that. I've just...been needing to get all that out."

A faint smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth before I can stop it.

"It's all good. Don't worry about it." I gesture up ahead, where the trees are starting to thin out. "We're just getting to the cabin anyway."

Her eyes widen as the quaint little structure, nestled cozily among the pines, comes into view. For a moment, she almost looks disappointed. But the look is gone in a flash as we approach the door.

I push open the cabin door and usher her inside ahead of me.

"Well, here it is. Home sweet home."

She looks around slowly, taking in the rustic interior.

"It's...cozy."

Cozy is one word for it. Cramped and bare-bones are a couple of others that come to mind. But it's got the basic necessities - a wood stove, a couple of saggy armchairs, and a tiny kitchenette area.

"Yeah, well, it's not a five-star resort," I shrug. “But it'll do for just one night."

Her eyes flick over to me.

"Are you sure you don't mind me imposing like this? I can always just try sleeping outside if it's too much trouble."

I snort at that, "Don't be ridiculous. You think I'd really make a lady camp in the woods after offering you shelter?"

She arches one of those delicate brows at me.

"Is that what I am? A lady?"

The hint of teasing in her tone makes me huff out a laugh.

"Well, you're certainly more polite company than a lotta folks I've run into over the years, I'll give you that."

Wandering further into the main room, she runs a finger along the back of one of the armchairs, leaving a trail in the dust.

"I've gotta say, I'm surprised you're letting a total stranger into your place like this."

"Don't get the wrong idea," I warn her gruffly. "You can take the spare bunk, but that's as far as this hospitality stretches, got it?"

She turns towards me with a coy smile.

"I don't know, you did call me a lady just now. That implies a certain level of chivalry on your part, don't you think?"

I simply shake my head at her playful ribbing. This woman has more nerve than just about anyone I've met. I can already tell having her around for the night is gonna be...interesting, that's for sure.

"Don't get too comfortable," I grumble, even as her teasing grin makes the corners of my mouth twitch traitorously. "One night is the deal, and then you're out of here first thing tomorrow, understand?"

She puts her hands up in mock surrender.

"Yes, sir, I got it. Although..." She trails off, looking around the cramped space once more. "Where exactly am I supposed to sleep?"

I jerk my chin towards a door at the back of the cabin.

"The spare bunk is through there. It's not much, but it'll do for just one night."

Following where I've gestured, she moseys over and pushes open the door to reveal the tiny bedroom - if you could even call it that. There's barely enough space for the rickety twin bed shoved in the corner.

"Wow," she says flatly. "You really weren't kidding about the basic setup, were you?"

I lean one shoulder against the doorframe with a shrug.

"Like I said, it's just for one night. I didn't exactly have guests in mind when I built this place."

She eyes the sorry excuse for a mattress dubiously.

"I don't know, Russ. This might be a little too rustic, even for me."

The nickname makes me stiffen.

"It's Russell," I correct her gruffly.

I don't know why I'm letting such a little thing get under my skin.

But she just smirks right back at me, not an ounce of apology in her expression.

"Well, Russell, then. Are you sure this rickety thing won't just collapse underneath me?"

Exasperated, I blow out a sigh. "For the last time, it's just for one damn night! You'll survive."

Instead of rising to my growly tone, her expression softens into one of sincere gratitude.

"I'm just giving you a hard time. Really though, I do appreciate you taking me in like this when you easily could've just left me to fend for myself out there."

I give a stern nod of acknowledgment, suddenly feeling unaccountably sheepish under the warmth of her gaze.

"Yeah, well...don't mention it."