Carlise belatedly realized that he’d seen her shiver and thought she was cold.
She suddenly wanted to cry. He was so in tune with her needs. So eager to give her whatever he thought she wanted. Had Tommy ever been that way? Not really. And her dad had definitely never cared that much for her mom.
“Much. Thanks,” she said.
Riggs smiled, then turned his attention back to his book.
Shoot. She was falling for the man.
In one day, he’d been more of a boyfriend to her than Tommy or any other guy she’d ever dated. And it seemed to come naturally to Riggs. He wasn’t going overboard just to schmooze her. Wasn’t fawning or making obnoxious, overt moves. Everything he did was simply part of who he was.
And she liked him. A lot.
But she had no idea what he thought of her. She was an unexpected guest. Someone forced on him, because a man like Riggs would never turn away someone in need. And who knew how much longer they’d be stuck in his cabin together? The poor man had come up here for some peace and quiet.
If she was being honest, however, he didn’t seem all that perturbed. He’d even said how much he enjoyed having someone to cook for and eat with.
Deciding she just needed to chill, Carlise tried once again to focus on the words on the screen in front of her. The storm had ended, which meant hopefully she’d soon be able to get back to her car, get back on the road, and get on with her life.
The thought of leaving the cabin, leaving Riggs, made her belly clench. She had a feeling that when she left, she’d be walking away from something amazing. Something life changing. But what other choice did she have? It wasn’t as if Riggs was going to declare his undying devotion and beg her not to go.
But a small part, deep down—the romantic who believed in happily ever after and true love—wanted just that. She had a job she could do from anywhere. Why couldn’t she do it from here? Or from his apartment in Newton?
Starting over fresh actually sounded perfect. Tommy would eventually get over his obsession, or whatever his issue was. Her mom would probably think she was making a big decision too quickly, but she’d ultimately understand. And she and Susie could still be best friends . . . they had email, texts, and phone calls. They could still gossip and laugh together.
Hell, Susie would probably love Maine. She believed in things like Bigfoot and alien abductions, and this area was a hotbed for fans of both.
For a moment, she daydreamed about moving here. About meeting Riggs’s friends, greeting him when he came home from leading a trip on the AT or after going out in the middle of the night to cut down a tree that had fallen across a road or on a house.
Then her brows furrowed. She was being ridiculous again. At best, maybe Riggs would attempt to stay in contact after she left, mostly because he’d want to make sure she was safe. But eventually they’d lose touch and get on with their lives.
“It’s not going well?” Riggs asked.
Carlise jerked in surprise and looked at him. “What?”
“You’re sitting there staring at the screen and not typing. Is the translation not going well?”
Carlise felt her cheeks get hot. Shit. She’d been daydreaming about living with the man next to her instead of working. “No. It’s fine. I mean . . . I’m just thinking.”
“About?”
Yeah, there was no way she was going to tell him the truth. That she’d dreamed up a full-blown fantasy about greeting him when he got home and the two of them falling into bed together. “Just life. What I’m going to do next now that the storm has stopped.”
“Well, there’s no rush. It’ll still be quite a while before we’re able to get out of here safely. It’s not as if the plows come out this way. JJ will see what he can do, but the priority will be the main roads.”
Carlise couldn’t tell if Riggs was upset that he was going to be trapped here for a while longer or not. “I know you weren’t expecting a houseguest—” she started, but Riggs immediately interrupted.
“I wasn’t. But I’m not upset that you’re here, Carlise. Maybe if you were a bitch, if you complained about the lack of electricity, about how we’re in the middle of nowhere, or were a general pain in the ass, I might be. But I think you fit here perfectly.”
His words settled into her soul. “I actually love the peacefulness out here.”
“Me too. Although I don’t think I could live here full time,” he said with a shrug. “I mean, I love coming out here to recharge, to reconnect with nature, to get away from annoying people. But eventually, I miss being able to pop down to the grocery store to grab something I need or to get a fast-food hamburger or something.”
“They have fast food in Newton?” she teased.
Riggs grinned. “Better. Granny’s Burgers,” he said. “It’s a hole-in-the-wall, family-owned restaurant, and they make the best burgers I’ve ever tasted. And french fries. Lord, they’re so good.”
Carlise grinned.
“Anyway, I’m just sayin’, I love this cabin, but Little House on the Prairie isn’t the life I want full time.”
“What do you know about Little House on the Prairie?” she asked.
Suddenly, a tinge of red filled his cheeks. “I told you I like to read,” he said a little sheepishly.
“You’ve read the books?”
“Yeah. I was only going to read one . . . but they sucked me in. I couldn’t stop. I love a good series.”
“Me too,” she told him.
“Authors are cruel, making us love all the characters they dream up. It’s usually impossible not to pick up the next book in a series.”
“Right? And when they introduce a character in book one that we have to have a story for, only to learn we don’t get it until book eight? So mean,” Carlise agreed.
Riggs chuckled. “Anyway, I was just sayin’ that while I love it out here, I have no plans to make this my permanent residence.”
Carlise stared at him for a long moment. Eventually, she nodded.
“Right, I’ll stop talking now so you can get some work done. You want to set up at the table? Will that make it easier?”
“No. I’m good here. Thanks, though.”
“Okay. If you need anything, let me know.”
Carlise nodded again and watched as Riggs looked back down at the book in his hand. She took a deep breath. She needed to get some work done. She wasn’t behind, yet, but she would be if she took too many days off.
Thankfully, she was soon engrossed in the story, and the translation began to come fairly quickly. It was always easier when she enjoyed the book she was translating. Luckily, she wasn’t too picky and loved reading just about every genre, so disliking a story didn’t happen very often.
The familiarity of her job kicked in, and Carlise lost herself in making the French words sound seamless and just as meaningful in English.
Chappy couldn’t keep his gaze from straying to Carlise. He had no idea what he was reading, hadn’t turned a page in quite a while. He was too fascinated by the woman next to him. It had taken her a while to start working, but now that she had, she made him smile.
She’d frown, furrow her brow, type a few words, tilt her head as she thought, then type once more. The process of translating a foreign book into English was incredibly interesting. And the woman doing it even more so.
He wondered what she’d been thinking about so hard before focusing on her work. Yes, he’d surreptitiously watched her then, too . . . and he’d seen so many emotions flit over her face. The more he was around her, the more he wanted to get inside her head.
Chappy certainly didn’t want her to feel as if she was invading his space, and it was clear she was worried about just that. He liked having her there. Was so damn relieved and grateful to Baxter for leading him to the stranger walking on the road. The alternative made him feel physically sick all over again. Her body would’ve been buried in the snow by now. He never would’ve seen her smile. Heard her laugh. Seen her compassion toward Baxter or himself.