Page 8 of Seducing Sasquatch

Sitting back into his chair, Arden watches me with his amber eyes as his tongue swipes across his front teeth. “A few days from now, maybe a week.”

A week! That’s all I have left! I can’t spend my last week of freedom cooped up in this man’s log cabin, even if said man is the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. But I don’t complain. I don’t make a sound. It’s not like he’s letting me stay here, feeding me his food, putting clothes on my back just for me to argue. Instead, I pick up my fork and begin to eat.

CHAPTER 5

ARDEN

What the hell have I done?

I should have taken him into town. To a hospital. Not up here, to my cabin. He could have died on my couch! Despite that, now he’s stuck here with me until the snow lets up.

The roads are closed; no one will be coming up or down the mountain for at least five more days. Even if I were to shift into my Sasquatch form and Blake doesn’t completely panic, it wouldn’t be safe enough to carry him into town.

Mate.

I swallow the growl that tries to explode from my chest, hating the idea of ever letting Blake leave. But as I watch him eat his lasagna, I catch the way his face fills with sadness and something else. Something I can’t quite place.

So I start digging.

“You lied to me, hiker.” I cross my arms over my chest, and Blake freezes.

It’s like watching a deer in headlights. First, his shoulders climb to his ears, and he gently places his fork on the table while slinking deeper into his chair. Dipping his head, Blake suddenly looks far younger than he really is.

“I’m sorry.”

There it is again.

This isn’t the first time those two words have slipped from his plump lips. They seem to float in the air above us, filling the cabin with a sour smell.

“Why did you lie?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral.

Blake flinches. It’s subtle. It’s not the kind of flinch someone would make when being threatened with pain or punishment, just the gentle twitch of his shoulders. I don’t miss the way his pounding heart skips a beat, or how his jaw tightens.

“Please tell me why you didn’t stay in your car?” I lean forward, resting my hands lightly on the table, my palms facing inwards. Blake watches.

He gulps, “I wanted to go camping.”

My stomach drops. I’ve already figured he couldn’t afford the hot tent. It was a no-brainer. But Blake had specifically said he’d stay inside his car, even after I warned him of the incoming storm.

“So you ignored my warning about the storm and camped outside anyway?” I press.

I’m not trying to be mean. But I can see the confrontation is eating at the poor boy. He shivers, despite the fireplace heating the cabin to a temperature I find a little too hot.

“I-I just…” Blake whispers as a tear slips down his cheek.

It’s too painful to watch. I rise from my seat, keeping my movements fluid as if I’m standing before a skittish animal, and step around the table. Blake wipes at his face, quickly jumping to his feet; his chair tips backward, clattering on the ground.

“I’m sor⁠—”

I take his hands in mine, silencing his apology. I don’t know why I do it, but it feels right. The way his fingers slip over my palms and the warmth of his skin on mine has a quiet rumble bubbling in my throat. He’s so small compared to me, he has to crane his head to meet my gaze.

“I forgive you,” I say. “You learned a valuable lesson.”

Blake blinks up at me, his lips part in a silent gasp, and his hands tighten in mine. Brown mixed with the faintest outline of green, his eyes remind me of the colors of the forest before winter.

“I bet you won’t be camping in the snow without a hot tent anytime soon?” I feel my lips twitch upwards.

Blake’s brows pinch as he shakes his head, clearly lost for words. I don’t mind his silent response. I can see clearly how much my forgiveness means to him, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s ever heard those three words before.