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Yet you can’t get rid of her.

She was a virus that had infected me, paralyzing my cognitive thinking. It had been six months, and I still struggled to remove her from my thoughts.

My eyes met my grandma’s keen stare.

“That ended a while ago. I’m too busy to date,” I informed her.

“Too much isn’t good for you either.” She jabbed a finger at my chest, then went to add something into a small cauldron sitting in the corner by the incense display.

Yolanda grinned at Grandma’s statement.

“Still seeing that guy who lavishes you with jewelry?” I asked Yolanda, gesturing to her new diamond earrings and bracelet.

“Yes, I am.” She opened a box and took out handmade soaps, sniffing and sorting them. “Like you, he works a lot.”

I’d never met the guy. “When do I get to meet this guy? Has Grandma met him?”

Yolanda nodded. “Well, she spoke to him on the phone. He’s busy.”

That meant Grandma didn’t approve of him. Because if she had, she’d already have invited him to her house for a homecooked meal. She hadn’t mentioned anything about him to me.

A woman with vicious eyes stormed over to my grandmother and slapped a bag onto the table, rattling the tray of herb tubes.

CHAPTERTHREE

KIERA

With my luggage and carry-on bag, I made a mental note to take some time for a hike around the camp. I entered the main office, and the air conditioner welcomed me with open arms. Late June in Texas offered humidity, which probably showed in my frizzy ponytail.

A middle-aged woman with a chin-length bob greeted me with a cheerful smile that suited the sunflowers on her blue dress. “You have reservations, darling?”

I returned the friendly gesture with a nod. “Kiera Ford.”

She pressed the keys on her keyboard and glanced at the computer screen. “Ahh, there you are. You’re with the fashion brand.” Leaning onto the marble counter, she grinned. “I already met the hunky coordinator. Your cabin is number sixty-nine. It’s just around the corner to the right. The main lodge didn’t have any rooms left. But if you ask me, the private cabins are way better.” She dropped the keys into my palm. “Enjoy your time here, honey. If you need anything, y’all just holler. I’m Nora.”

“Thanks.” Holding onto the key, I headed to my cabin.

I had thought the coordinator was Stephanie Patterson. She’d been my contact person with FitFlex for the past couple of months during my negotiation for this job. My schedule had been packed, but they’d offered a deal I couldn’t resist. And because of my sudden financial needs, I had declined another offer to work with FitFlex. Besides, the other offer would’ve taken me to New Zealand. Though I loved to travel, my mom needed me close by. Texas wasn’t near Providence, but at least I was in the country, so that made things easier for emergency purposes.

FitFlex was a growing company with celebrities promoting the brand. According to the photo shoot agenda, there would be one female and two male models. I’d worked with all of them before, so this shoot should be smooth sailing. I didn’t need the extra drama that often came from supermodels who didn’t like my style or were too demanding. Perhaps I could finish the photo edits early and spend a few days exploring, just to clear my head.

When I spotted my cabin, I stopped in my steps and absorbed the scene. “Color me happy.” My body instantly relaxed at the splendid view.

The triangle-shaped cabin sat by itself with a private view of the lake. It was made of wood and stones. Interesting designs were etched onto the wooden beams supporting the porch. Trees, floral bushes, and the stone walkway gave it a pleasing curb appeal. Tiny purple flowers dotted the grass and moss. Serenity embraced me like satin over skin. I was a city girl at heart, but I didn’t mind this tranquil escape. We all needed an escape now and then to balance out the chaotic energy of city life.

I dragged my luggage onto the stone walkway that led up to the porch with pretty potted flowers. A swing hung on the side, and I planned to enjoy it later.

Lifting my luggage up the two steps onto the porch, I studied the wooden sign nailed to the wall beside the door. Someone had etched in “haha” under the cabin number sixty-nine.Great.I prayed the interior of the cabin wasn’t also decorated with sexual innuendos. I hadn’t been intimate with a man for a while, and right now that was the last thing on my mind. Work and worry had sent my libido down the drain.

“Excuse m-me,” a male voice called out.

I turned to face a young man wearing a black tank top and cargo shorts. He had curly brown hair, a narrow face, and dark eyes that scrutinized my body, making me feel uncomfortable. He had scars on his forearm, and his right hand trembled.

“Hi. I’m Kiera,” I said, trying to be friendly.

The man stepped onto the porch with his worn sneakers and gave me a nod. “I’m Hank P-Peterson. I live over th-there.” He pointed to a cabin that was twice the size of my cabin. I couldn’t see the entire cabin, as it was tucked back behind several trees. I wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t pointed it out.

Note to self:check out the campground. Make note of your surroundings.