Chapter 4

“Okay Fillmore,” Luna said, lifting him up to her face so he could look directly into her eyes and understand how serious she was, “you cannot let me mess this up. You cannot. Okay?”

She couldn’t tell if Fillmore understood what she was talking about – let alone how serious she was about it – but certainly, he seemed to be wagging his tail and lolling his tongue a little more solemnly than usual.

“You like him too, right?” Luna said, as the washing machine behind her – which was definitely way fancier and shinier than the one back home in her apartment – started its final spin cycle. “I mean, I’ve never seen you act that way before! It was almost like you were leading me to him… except that’s kind of stupid, and I shouldn’t let myself get my hopes up about it. I did make him lose his cake. Maybe that’s a dealbreaker as far as he’s concerned. I mean, could you blame him?”

Fillmore tilted his head, blinking his big bulging eyes at her.

“That’s a good point, Fillmore. You actually did that. So maybe he’d cut us a bit of slack? You’re just a dog, after all. You can’t be held responsible for your actions.”

Luna certainly hoped Henry saw it that way, at least. She hoped she’d done the right thing in bringing him back here to wash his clothes – she definitely couldn’t have just let him leave with his shirt all covered in cakey mess, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny that maybe it came across as her having some kind of ulterior motive.

Like getting him shirtless in my room…but no! That’s not why I did it! That was just a… a side benefit! And I didn’t look, anyway!

She really hadn’t – well, not much. But she really hadn’t had an ulterior motive when she’d first made the offer. It was only once they’d actually been standing in her room and Luna realized she’d actually have to ask Henry to take his shirt off so she could clean it that the full implications had hit her.

And the idea that he was… right now… at this very moment…

No, don’t think about that!

Luna forced the thought of a naked and very possibly wet Henry out of her head as quickly as she could. It was true, she’d never felt more attracted to anyone before in her life, but she had to be able to look him in the eye once his shirt was washed and dry.

“It really isn’t fair, Fillmore,” she sighed as the washing machine signaled it was done spinning. “How can anyone actually look like that? And be so nice? I mean… he is nice, right? If someone had made me spill my box of delicious cakes all over myself, I don’t think I could be responsible for what I did next.”

Fillmore yipped happily as she put him down on the floor, opening the washing machine. Henry’s shirt was still a little damp, of course, but it was nothing a few minutes in the tumble dryer wouldn’t fix.

It didn’t help, she supposed, that Henry was just so much her type it was ridiculous. She’d always had a bit of a thing for men who were just a little scruffy – a hint of stubble on their chins, a little rough around the edges. It wasn’t necessarily bad boys she liked – and personality-wise, Henry seemed about as far from a bad boy as it was possible to get – but for some reason, her head had always been turned by a battered leather jacket and a wicked grin.

Sigh.

“Do you think he’d give me his number if I asked?” Luna said, a little dreamily, as the tumble dryer started up. “I mean, I could ask, right?”

As if on cue, her own phone vibrated in her pocket. Luna grabbed it quickly – it could be her editor, asking for a status update or when he could expect her article outline by… which she was not actually writing or researching, since she was here, washing the hottest man she’d ever met’s shirt.

But as soon as she looked at the screen, Luna’s heart sank. It wasn’t her editor at all – it was an unknown number, with another one of the weird messages she’d been getting over the past couple of weeks or so.

She stared down at this latest one, not even really sure what to make of it:

DO YOU REPENT OF YOUR ACTIONS? it read. I SHALL NOT BE IGNORED!

Luna shook her head. To be honest, if she hadn’t found these messages just the tiniest bit amusing she would have done something about them sooner – but really, she kind of did find them a bit funny. She was sure it was just some prank texts or something, but she supposed she ought to take things more seriously. She had a public profile, however minor it was, and you really couldn’t be too careful. The fact that someone unknown had her phone number was a little worrisome, even if – for the moment, anyway – they were just using it to send vague warnings in archaic language, like WE SHALL HAVE WORDS WHEN WE NEXT MEET, FOR MEET WE SHALL, and THE WAGES OF SIN ARE HIGH INDEED! CAN YOU AFFORD TO PAY THEM?

It was really hard to tell how seriously the cops would even take something like this, if she were to even show the texts to them, Luna thought as she scrolled through them. Probably she’d just need to change her number – which was a real pain in the ass, considering how many contacts and sources she’d have to update, and was the other reason she hadn’t quite gotten around to dealing with the issue yet.

Well, so long as it just stays bizarre text messages, I suppose it’s okay, she thought as she shoved her phone back into her pocket – the number itself only ever showed up as Unknown, so she couldn’t even look it up or block it. The texts just kept coming.

The sound of a jaunty little electronic tune brought her back to the present, and she popped open the dryer door. Henry’s shirt was nice and toasty, in that strangely satisfying fresh-out-the-dryer way, and she had to resist the urge to bury her face in its warmth.

I bet it still smells like him…

She scooped up Fillmore and hurried from the room before that particular thought could go any further down its highly inappropriate track, freshly cleaned shirt tucked safely under her arm and definitely nowhere near her face.

The laundry was located a short way from the main building – which, she had to admit, was probably extremely helpful in terms of reducing noise in the guest rooms – and as she hurried back to the house she had to take a moment to admire the gorgeous greenery that seemed to be surrounding her entirely, from the tiny, delicate white flowers at her feet to the lush wisteria hanging down from overhead.

Winter was barely even over – there were still patches of snow here and there – but already every plant in Girdwood Springs seemed to be ablaze in a truly astounding display of vibrant color and brilliant greens. She had never seen anything quite like it. Maybe it was something in the air? Or the soil?

Entering the main house, she walked briskly down the corridor before suddenly pulling up short at her door.

What should I do? I can’t just barge in, especially if he’s still in the shower. That would be… terrible. Yeah. Terrible. That’s the word I want.

In the end, she settled for knocking on her own door and calling out, trying not to feel too silly as she did so.

“Hello? Uh… Henry? It’s me, Luna. Are you decent?”

She cringed at herself, and at the silence that met her.

Maybe he just left through the window rather than have such an awkward conversation. I probably wouldn’t blame him.

She thought of Henry, shirtlessly roaming the forest, hair still wet from the shower, and shivered involuntarily.

Clearing her throat, she tried again.

“I’m just going to come in, okay? But I won’t look. I’ll just put your shirt on the couch and then look at the wall. Promise.”

Still no response.

Okay… here goes nothing, I guess.

She cracked the door open, peeping through the gap with squinted eyes. No sign of movement.

Okay, this was… a little odd. Was he taking a post-shower nap?

Creeping into the room, she tossed the shirt on the couch and turned toward the kitchenette, vaguely unsettled by the silence.

Where was he?

Maybe he had a bath and fell asleep, and he’s still there right now,her brain supplied helpfully.

She shivered at the images that conjured up. Henry, his naked skin all wet and glistening as he lounged back in a bath full of water, the soap bubbles just covering up enough of him to leave a certain amount to the imagination….

Stop! Let the poor man bathe in peace, without thinking all kinds of sexy thoughts about him.

Still, what would she do if he was having a naked snooze mere feet away from her? Things would be really awkward once he woke up.

Or maybe she had just hallucinated the whole encounter, and she’d never had an unbearably good-looking man accompany her back to her room and take his shirt off.

Luna popped Fillmore on the floor and stared fixedly at the kitchenette, wondering how long she could reasonably stare at the wall in her own hotel room, when she noticed something odd.

Specifically: two cups of tea sitting on the bench. They were obviously freshly brewed, judging from the wispy curlicues of steam that rose up from them.

Did Henry do this? I guess at least that confirms that he was here, rather than being some figment of my overactive imagination.

She supposed that she had given him more than sufficient time to finish up in the bathroom, or at least to respond to her. At this point, she was starting to worry that he had slipped in the shower and hit his head.

“Henry?” she called out again. “I’m going to come in, okay? Sorry if you’re… uh… indecent?”

Silently cursing herself and hoping Henry somehow hadn’t made out what she’d said through the bathroom door, Luna turned and started moving across the room when something caught her eye.

It took a moment for it to fully register in her mind: a damp towel was sitting on the floor next to the window. The curtains were also pulled back, when she knew they’d been closed earlier.

Frowning, she picked up the towel, as if she could somehow divine Henry’s actions from it.

So, he… took some time to admire the view, then dumped his wet towel on the wooden floor like a barbarian and left without leaving so much as a note?

It didn’t seem right. He really didn’t seem like the type to be so inconsiderate, especially as he had apparently been so kind as to make her a cup of tea.

She opened the bathroom door and stuck her head inside just to be sure, but nope, he was definitely gone. So were his clothes… except for his shirt, of course, which stared at her tauntingly from the couch.

You! This is all your fault! You took too long to dry, and now he’s gone!

She grabbed the shirt and shoved it into her shoulder bag, alongside her phone, her notebook, various pens, and the bunch of assorted junk she really had to clean out of it at some point or another. Maybe she would run into him later, and she could give it back to him. Surely all she would have to do in order to locate him was to follow the hordes of starry-eyed admirers who had gathered to gaze upon the handsome shirtless muscle man?

Sighing, she ran her hands through her hair and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to make sense of everything. Surely there had to be a rational explanation!

In the end, there was nothing for it but to grab one of the still-warm cups of strawberry oolong and pull out the teabag, adding a dash of milk. She knew that that would make her a heathen in some people’s eyes, but she didn’t care.

Perching on the edge of the couch, she cradled the cup of tea in her hands and took a moment to inhale the subtly sweet aroma, enjoying the warmth from the cup as it spread through her hands. Really, there was nothing that a cup of warm tea couldn’t fix… or at least make seem more fixable.

She slowly sipped the tea, enjoying its delicate flavors, and pointedly did not look at the shirt that was taunting her from inside her bag.

Part of her dearly wanted to rummage through the package of cakes that she knew were in the welcome hamper and help herself to some delicious sugary carbs in order to soothe her pain, but her heart just wasn’t in it. She’d secretly been hoping that she’d be able to find a way to entice Henry to stay for some cake and tea, but not only had she failed at that, he hadn’t even stayed long enough to say goodbye!

It was confusing and frustrating, to say the least. He really had seemed like a genuinely nice guy. And why would he come all the way back here to get his shirt washed if he wasn’t even going to take his shirt when he left?

This really didn’t make any sense.

“Oh, Fillmore,” she murmured, scritching him under the chin and smiling weakly as his little tongue peeked out from between his teeth. “Men, huh? Well, we don’t need him and his stupid hot body and his stupid heart-melting smile, anyway.”

The words rang a little hollow even to her own ears, but they did at least remind her that she had a job to do. Somehow, she didn’t think that her editor would be understanding if she failed to write anything for a week-long assignment because she got cake on some sexy stranger.

Maybe it would be a good distraction, anyway. There was so much to see and do – and eat – that surely it would help take her mind off things.

Maybe there was even an article in it. Twelve Ways to Eat Your Feelings in Girdwood Springs While Trying to Locate a Shirt’s Sexy Owner. It had a kind of Cinderella glass-slipper appeal to it, she supposed.

“C’mon, Fillmore,” she said, draining the last of her tea and standing up. “Enough moping. Let’s go get paid to eat something delicious.”

Fillmore wagged his scraggly tail in assent, and together they headed out through the door, Luna studiously trying to ignore the shirt that was stuffed in her bag. She could practically feel it burning against her side, and her face flushed in response.

Walking back down the corridor, she had a sudden flash of inspiration: what if Henry was still here? What if he had just popped out for a minute to check out the rest of the house, or come looking for her, or indulge in a little naked ping pong? This house did have a lot of rooms in it, after all – maybe he’d just gone for a little wander. It made more sense than his having disappeared into thin air, anyway, or deciding to wander into the wilderness without so much as a goodbye or even a shirt.

She took a circuitous route through the first floor of the house, peeking into the common rooms, deflating just a little more with each failure. The house was completely empty.

There was nothing for it. She would just have to go do that pesky little thing known as a ‘job’, and hope that she would run into him there, and that there would be an explanation less soul-crushing than I couldn’t stand you so much that I chose to leave without my clothes rather than talk to you again.

Cutting back through the kitchen, she almost jumped out of her skin as she saw a tall figure peering into the oven – but her excitement dissipated before it ever even got the chance to fully build.

It wasn’t Henry. For one thing, Henry wasn’t a woman, which this person definitely was. For another thing, it was the one other person in Girdwood Springs who Luna knew by name. More or less.

“Natasha!” she exclaimed, hoping that her happiness didn’t sound too forced. “What are you doing here? I mean… obviously, it’s your house. But I thought you would be at the festival with everyone else?”

“Unfortunately, the oven light chose today to stop working, so I’m getting that sorted out,” Natasha said, straightening up. “Just doing a bit of troubleshooting.”

“I didn’t know you were into fixing appliances,” Luna said, jumping at the chance for a distraction from her woes. “Though I guess you did renovate this house, so you must be knowledgeable about these things.”

“Oh yeah, I’m a complete expert in oven repair,” Natasha said with a smile. “Got my degree from YouTube U. Currently working on my PhD in Oven Cleaning Hacks: What the Professionals Don’t Want You to Know.”

Luna smiled back. “So you teach yourself everything, then? I’m kind of jealous, to be honest. My home handyman skills are, shall we say, lacking.”

“Well, we call an expert if there’s anything actually dangerous that needs doing. But otherwise, we try and do everything ourselves. This house is like our baby, so we want to look after it.” Natasha screwed up her nose. “Is that weird? It’s a little weird.”

“No, it’s not weird at all!” Luna laughed. “I think it’s great to have something you’re passionate about. Especially when you’ve obviously done such an amazing job.”

“You’re too kind,” Natasha said warmly. “But seriously, most of this stuff isn’t actually hard – you just have to find out what to do.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Luna replied, only a little dubiously. She didn’t doubt that Natasha meant well, but she hadn’t seen Luna’s attempt at fixing a Venetian blind! The poor thing had been in such a state by the end of it that she’d ended up having to fork out more money getting it replaced than the repair would’ve cost to begin with.

Fillmore wiggled in her arms, and she popped him on the floor, leaving him to potter about the room. He promptly found a sunbeam in the corner and curled up in it, like a cat.

“Anyway,” Natasha went on, “what brings you here? I would’ve thought you’d be at the festival, sampling all the local delights. Or did you come back here so you could sleep it off before starting back up again? I could never be a food writer – I’d stuff myself so full that I’d end up in a permanent food coma.” She sighed in good-natured exasperation. “It’s bad enough that the local businesses give me more free samples than I know what to do with – for each one I give to my guests, another three appear. And it would be a shame to waste them, so… what choice do I have but to eat them?”

Luna nodded solemnly. “Clearly, as a good global citizen and preventer of food wastage, it’s your job – no, your duty – to eat all the delicious food put in front of you.”

“Ah, I see you are a woman of high morals.”

“The highest.” Luna grinned. “It’s shockingly easy to stick to them when there’s delicious food involved.”

“I guess so,” Natasha laughed. “Anyway, what brings you back here in the middle of the day? Is there anything you need that I can help you with?”

“Um,” Luna said, wondering how exactly to explain what had just happened. She didn’t feel like she could just come out with it without seeming weird, but nor could she seem to come up with a good story either, the winds of complete blankness howling across the barren tundra of her mind.

“Well,” she said slowly, realizing she’d probably just have to come out with it. “You won’t believe this, but I’m looking for a tall, muscular, incredibly hot man with no shirt. You haven’t, ah, seen him around, have you?”

Natasha, to her credit, didn’t look quite as confused as she might have. “I did –” Luna’s heart leaped up into her throat “– but I don’t think it’s Kieran you’re looking for. And he did put on a shirt before he left for work, so… probably not him. Well, I hope.”

“Ah,” Luna murmured.

“There’s a disproportionately high number of hot guys in Girdwood Springs, I’ve found,” Natasha went on. “What’s the deal with yours? Maybe I can help you out.”

“Maybe,” Luna said vaguely. “I just brought him back here to wash his shirt because I accidentally got cake all over it.” She looked up at Natasha, expecting to see disbelief on her face, but she was nodding along as if this kind of thing happened every day. And who knew – maybe in Girdwood Springs, it did. This town seemed to be full of secrets… but nice ones, like impossibly delicious cake and incredibly good-looking men.

Encouraged, she went on. “But he was gone when I got back to my room, and now, well, I have his shirt.” She indicated her bag, where the shirt was still peeping out. “And… I want to find him. To give him his shirt.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Natasha said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. Like organize a search party for a guy with no shirt.”

She is really no-nonsense!Luna marveled. But then again, I think she used to be some sort of corporate go-getter in her previous life.

“Wouldn’t want the handsome man to get cold, after all,” Natasha added with a twinkle in her eye.

Am I being made fun of? I’m totally being made fun of! But I probably deserve it.

“Well, uh, thank you,” Luna said. “I’ll definitely let you know.”

“Any time,” Natasha said with a friendly smile. “Just yell if there’s anything either Kieran or I can do for you. In relation to anything at all.”

“I will,” Luna said weakly.

Natasha grabbed a cloth, and started quickly and efficiently wiping down the already pristine-looking countertop. “I’d better go work out what to do next about this oven, though unfortunately I think I’m going to have to end up calling out someone to have a look at it. But I’ll be around, so just come find me if you need me.”

Luna nodded. “Yeah, I’d better get back to work, too. But it was really nice to talk to you.”

“You, too,” Natasha said, waving as she hurried out the door. “Catch you around!”

“See you,” Luna said back, before sighing and turning to Fillmore. He was still out cold, happily ensconced in his sun-warmed corner.

“Come on, buddy,” she said, scooping him up and ignoring his sleepy grumbles. “Let’s go see the town.”

And maybe, if we’re lucky, see Henry while we’re at it.