Indiscretion

What the hell is my buddy thinking?

I stood on the rickety porch of the cabin I’d rented through Airbnb and looked around. Trees. Dirt. Smack. Great. Damn mosquitos, too. Maybe things would look better after a good night’s sleep. Lord knows I needed one.

The twelve-hour drive from New York to Michigan had taken fifteen because everyone and their mother was traveling on Fourth of July weekend. It was two in the morning now, and I hoped to hell this shitty shack at least had a decent mattress. The front door was supposed to need a numerical code to enter, but when I reached for the handle, it was unlocked.

The inside was smaller than it had looked in the pictures, but at least it seemed clean. Ben’s fiancée had described the area as rustic and quaint, but all I saw was a cabin that might’ve been featured in a horror movie last year, and a refrigerator so old that I thought it might need an ice block to keep things cold. I sighed and scanned the galley kitchen for an outlet. Finding one next to an antique toaster, I was surprised there was already an iPhone charger plugged in. That must be the modern conveniences the house had boasted about in its description.

Whatever. I was desperate for some sleep. Though before that could happen, I needed a shower, so I took one last look around the living space and headed down the only hall. There were two doors. The first one I opened had a full bath with folded towels stacked conveniently on a shelf. I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the bathtub.

Soon warm water sluiced over my knotted shoulders. I took a few deep breaths, grateful for good water pressure, and let myself relax into the pelting shower. This trip was definitely not my idea of a vacation, but I needed a few days away from the office. Away from Emily—and my life.

No criminals telling me their bullshit tale of woe.

No green, newbie public defenders coming into court completely unprepared and requesting a continuance to mess up my packed calendar.

No ex to see all day long.

Nature wasn’t my thing. Ideally, a few days away from the office would involve a five-star hotel on a Caribbean island, sipping cocktails at the in-pool bar, and waking up to a sexy naked woman next to me. And I’d thought I was going to get exactly that when my buddy had announced he was having a destination wedding. But instead, it looked like I was going to need bug spray, hiking boots, and quite possibly a banjo. Fuck my life.

The hot shower actually worked to relax me a bit, or maybe I was just that tired. I’d driven after a morning court appearance and two conference calls, so either way, sleep was next on the agenda. Suddenly too lazy to deal with opening my suitcase, I dried off and wrapped a towel around my waist. There wasn’t another cabin nearby, so I could skip the underwear and freeball all I wanted. Hell, maybe I’d have my coffee naked on the porch tomorrow morning.

There was only one other room in this little cabin, so it wasn’t too difficult to figure out where the bedroom was. The door creaked open, and I felt around the wall for a light switch, but there wasn’t one. I managed to feel my way in the pitch dark and make it to the bed without stubbing a toe, so I decided seeing where I was sleeping wasn’t a priority and climbed in. Unlike the rest of the cabin, which smelled sort of mildewy, this room smelled nice, almost floral. They must’ve washed these sheets with a decent brand of laundry detergent. That was a welcome surprise. The scent relaxed me even more than the shower had. That is, until I rolled over and something walloped me in the face.

“What the fuck!”

I jumped out of bed, reaching for my right eye.

A dog barked and a woman’s high-pitched voice screeched, “I have a gun!”

Quickly forgetting the pain radiating from my face, I held my hands up. “You don’t need a gun. I’m not armed, and I’m not going to hurt you. I’m holding my hands in the air.”

A light suddenly flicked on, and I found a five-foot-nothing woman wearing hot pink lacy pajamas, holding a dog that couldn’t weigh more than five pounds. The runt was in one hand while she pointed something at me with the other.

Is that…a pair of readers? My brows knitted. “Is that your gun?”

She waved the glasses around. “I’m a green belt, too!”

My eyes widened. “What is that, like two up from white? Did you take three lessons?”

The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “Leonardo bites.”

As if on cue, the dog growled and showed me his gums. But that was all he seemed to have in his mouth. I pointed. “Does that thing even have teeth?”

The woman scowled. “Shut up. He has a few, and periodontal disease is prevalent in chihuahuas. What do you want from me, and why are you wearing only a towel?”

“Uhh… Because I just showered. And what I want is a good damn night’s sleep, for starters. What the hell are you doing here? I rented this place.”

“You rented this place? I don’t think so. I rented this cabin.”

All of a sudden, the bone beneath my eye started to throb. I reached up and felt the top of my right cheek. “What the hell did you hit me with?”

She dropped the glasses on the bed and flexed her hand open and shut. It looked as red and swollen as my face felt. “Oww. My knuckles really hurt.”

What the fuck is going on here? “You must be in the wrong cabin, lady. How did you get in?”

She pressed on her right hand and winced. “I have the code.”

She rattled it off, and that was the right code, alright. I remembered because it was my ex’s birthday in numeral form—July 13. “Who gave it to you?” I asked.

“The Airbnb host, Amy.”

I had no clue who I’d rented from, but this woman sounded pretty believable. Maybe I was in the wrong cabin? I could’ve sworn the number on the house said fifty. Could I possibly be on the wrong block? Come to think of it, I hadn’t used the code to get in. Though inside looked just like the pictures online…

“Is this Fifty Dogwood Lane?”

“Yes.”

I shrugged. “Well, then this is the place I rented.”

“That’s impossible, because I rented it.” She shook her hand again. “Dammit. My knuckles really hurt.”

“Let me see them.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“No.”

“Then why would I let you see my hand?”

“Because I used to box. I’ve broken my knuckles on faces more times than I can count.”

She hesitated. But at least she put down the toothless dog. The little shit started barking as soon as his feet hit the mattress. He jumped from the bed and ran around me, growling. He wasn’t much of a threat since he didn’t have teeth, so I didn’t move. Though as it turned out, you don’t need teeth to grab things.

Like a towel.

And yank.

And now I was standing buck-ass naked, with my junk on full display.

The woman covered her eyes. “Oh my God!”

Fuck. My. Life. This day kept getting worse and worse—especially since I’d just showered, and my dick was cold and trying to find warm shelter by shriveling up inside my balls as much as possible. Definitely not my best reveal—not that it was a reveal, but a man always wants a good first showing.

The woman spread her fingers and peeked through. “Oh my God. Don’t just stand there! Do something! You’re naked.”

I grabbed the comforter from the bed and wrapped it around my waist. “I just showered…”

“And?”

“Well, I don’t want you to think…”

Her brows popped up. “Are you seriously worried that your manhood doesn’t look its best?”

Well…yeah. But this sounded like a trick question, so I didn’t answer. “Let me see your rental agreement.”

“Let me see your rental agreement!”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “It’s in my suitcase in the other room.”

“Maybe while you’re in there, you can find some clothes to put on!”

I looked her up and down. For what it was worth, she was damn cute. Blond hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, big green eyes, and a few freckles across the bridge of her button nose. Though this wasn’t a bar, and the last thing I currently needed in my life was a woman, so I took my quilt-clad ass out into the living room.

Blondie with the green belt came out while I was rummaging through my suitcase. She now wore a robe cinched tightly around her waist. Shame. The outfit underneath is nicer. She picked up a laptop I hadn’t noticed earlier on the coffee table and started clicking buttons. Meanwhile, I pulled out shorts and a T-shirt and the folder with a bunch of papers my assistant had printed before I left.

“Here,” I said. “My confirmation is somewhere in there. I’m going to go put some clothes on.”

“Thank you.”

She frowned when I walked back into the living room. “I think you’re going to have a black eye.”

“Perfect. Goes with the rest of this awful day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You did the right thing. Someone gets into your bed without an invitation, swing first, ask questions later. My eye will heal.”

“Thank you for saying that, but I still feel terrible.” She sighed and pointed to her laptop, shaking her head. “Both our confirmations show the same thing. It looks like we both rented this house for the same dates. How is that even possible?”

“Let me see.”

She turned her laptop my way, and I compared the information on the screen with my paperwork. Sure enough, we had indeed both booked Fifty Dogwood Lane.

“I don’t know what the hell happened,” I told her. “But I definitely paid for this. I remember seeing it on my credit card six months ago.”

“I booked mine last week.”

I shrugged. “Well, then it’s clear who the rightful renter is.”

“Who?”

“Me. I reserved it first.”

“I don’t care who reserved it first,” she countered. “We both paid for it, so we have equal right to this place.”

Her red hand caught my eye. It really was swollen now. “Let me see your knuckles.”

She hesitated again.

I rolled my eyes. “I think we’ve established that I didn’t commit a felony by breaking in here. I had the combination, even though you left the door open, which you really shouldn’t do out here alone in the middle of the woods. This is obviously just some kind of a mix-up. Let me see your damn hand.”

She squinted. “You don’t have to swear at me.”

“Swear? Damn isn’t a swear.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not. Fuck, maybe. Though it’s also a verb, and I tend to use it as an adjective and a noun too.”

“Whatever.” She shook her head. “Just look at my fucking hand.”

I chuckled.

Two of her knuckles seemed shifted to the right, and they were difficult to see because of the swelling. “Can you move those fingers?” I asked.

She winced as she attempted it. “Not really. And when I try to, a painful tingle runs up my arm.”

“Do your knuckles usually align with your fingers?”

“Yes! Of course they do!”

“Then I’m pretty sure they’re broken.”

She shut her eyes and sighed. “Great.”

“You should probably go to the ER and have them X-rayed.”

“Are knuckles like broken toes and fingers and you just tape them up?”

“Not usually. When the bone is misaligned like yours seem to be, they often need to manipulate them and set the hand in a cast.”

The color drained from her face. “Manipulate them, like as in move the knuckles?”

I nodded.

“That sounds painful.”

It was. Painful as fuck. But her pale face told me I should keep that to myself. “It’s not too bad.”

A noise from the other side of the room caught my attention. I looked over to find Gumby, the killer chihuahua, humping a stuffed animal on the floor. “Uhhh… I think your dog has a new girlfriend.”

The woman sighed. “That’s Kate. She’s not new. Leonardo has been doing that to her for five years. He’s in love.”

“He’s a he, with that sparkly collar?”

“Don’t judge him because he likes sparkly things.”

“Did he tell you he wanted that thing around his neck?”

She scowled at me again. It was oddly cute.

“Is that supposed to be your threatening face? If so, you might want to flip the light off again and go back to throwing punches in the dark.” I looked over at the dog. The thing was really going to town. “Is that…a turtle he’s humping?”

“Yes.”

“Remind me never to bring my pet around yours.”

“Why?”

“I have a tortoise.” I shook my head. “Your dog’s in love with a stuffed turtle?”

She nodded. “That’s why I named her Kate.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Leonardo and Kate—they were in Titanic together.”

“Didn’t one of them die in that love story?”

She looked down at her hand. “Can I wait until tomorrow to go to the emergency room? What time is it anyway?”

“I’m not a doctor, but I probably wouldn’t, and it’s got to be close to three AM by now.”

“Great. I don’t have a clue where the nearest hospital is, and I don’t even have a car. I took an Uber here from the airport.”

The last thing I felt like doing was going to a damn hospital, but I couldn’t let her go alone in the middle of the night. I nodded toward the door.

“Come on. I have a car. I’ll take you.”

“No, it’s fine.” She grabbed a phone from the coffee table and started to push buttons. “I can call an Uber.”

“I’m up now anyway. I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t take you.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Why not?”

“Because I can’t let a woman get in the car in the middle of nowhere with a stranger, not knowing where she’s going.”

“Because I’m a woman? So it would be okay if I were a man?”

Another trick question. I sighed. “Just let me drive you.”

She stared at her phone for a long time before turning it to face me. “Oh my God. It says there are no Ubers in the area. How can that be?”

“We’re in bumfuck Michigan in the middle of the night.” I nodded at the door again. “Come on. Let me just take you.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Dawson.”

“First name or last?”

“First.”

“Interesting.”

“Thrilling. Can we go now?”

She ignored me. “I’m Naomi.”

I nodded. “Great. Now that we’re besties, how about we hit the road? I’m awake at the moment, but eventually I’m going to crash. It’s been a long-ass day.”

Naomi chewed her lip. “Fine. But let me get my jewelry first.”

“You need to put on jewelry to go to the emergency room?”

“Not wear it, but take it with me for safekeeping. I realized when I got here that there’s no safe, and I brought my mom’s diamond pendant and matching earrings. She passed away, and they mean a lot to me.”

I pointed my eyes down to the little rat, still humping away. “Can’t Gumby protect it?”

Naomi frowned. “Don’t poke fun at my dog. He’s amazing.”

“Why the hell did you bring diamonds to a cabin in the woods anyway?”

“I’m going to a wedding.”

“What wedding?”

“My friend Lily’s. Why?”

Oh fuck. Naomi…her damn name was Naomi. “What’s your last name?”

“Heart.”

I closed my eyes. This was really the day that kept on giving.

“You went to law school with Lily and Ben, right?”

“Yes. How did you know that?”

“Because I’m going to the same wedding. Ben is my buddy—been friends since we were kids, even went to undergrad together. Lily mentioned you to me recently. She said you three went to the University of Michigan together, and you’d just moved to New York. I believe her exact words were, ‘I’d introduce you, but you two would hate each other.’”