Page 4 of Falling Too Soon (Seasons of Love #1)

DAPHNE

T he day before I was set to leave for my trip, I stopped by Marcus’s place while I knew he’d be at work and cleared out the rest of my things.

I didn’t have much there since almost everything was already there when I moved in.

All I had to pack was the rest of my clothes and a few things I had in the building storage area downstairs.

I dropped everything off in a storage locker I had rented and then headed out on my week-long vacation to rest and regroup.

The drive to Lakeside was breathtaking. It was early October, and the leaves had just started to change.

Red, orange, and yellow painted the landscape as I wound through hills and valleys on my way to my destination.

Fall was my absolute favorite time of year.

I loved everything about it—the cooler temperatures, the changing leaves, the availability of pumpkin spice everything.

Lakeside was the perfect place to visit this time of year, boasting a quaint main street lined with trees, photo-worthy shops, and a charming little bookstore that I couldn’t wait to check out.

I stopped by a market on the outskirts of town to grab the essentials—coffee, my favorite pumpkin spice creamer, wine, and a few snacks.

I’d deal with getting real food tomorrow.

At that moment, I just wanted to get to the cabin, start a fire in that cozy fireplace I had been eye-balling in the online photos, open a bottle of wine, and curl up with my book.

As I pulled onto the gravel drive that led to the cabin, I was taken aback by how gorgeous it was in real life.

The A-frame cabin sat perched on the edge of the lake with a wall of windows looking out over it.

The sun was setting behind the cabin—solar torches lined the driveway, and several exterior lights cast a warm glow.

It was like looking at a postcard. At that moment, I definitely did not regret spending the extra money on this lakefront beauty.

As I parked in front of the cabin, I noticed smoke coming from the chimney.

Did the property manager come and start the fire for me?

Wow, nice touch! I guess it pays to splurge.

I grabbed the grocery bag and bottle of wine and headed toward the door.

The rest of my stuff would have to wait—wine was the priority, after all.

As I keyed in the door code provided in my confirmation email, I thought I heard a sound coming from inside.

Brushing it off, I swung open the door and walked in.

There were a few lights on, and I could smell the fire burning in the fireplace.

I walked down a short hallway into the main living area and was startled by a crashing sound.

Dazed, I looked down, only to realize it was my wine that had shattered and made a huge mess on the floor where my jaw was now resting.

I raised my eyes to see a god of a man wearing nothing but a pair of low-hanging gray sweatpants and a grin. Fuck me. Why’s it gotta be gray sweatpants? It was as if I’d walked into my very own meet-cute. Maybe I should lay off the romance novels.

The Adonis that stood before me did, in fact, look like he belonged on the cover of one of my books.

His hair was dark and tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it.

He had a slight amount of stubble on his face that made me want to feel it against my thighs.

Oh my God, Daphne, get it together. His chest and abs were fully on display, with a few tattoos on his chest and arm that seemed to fit him perfectly.

This man was hot with a capital T. He definitely spent time in the gym and it showed.

As my gaze raked up his chiseled six-foot-who-knows-how-tall body and my eyes zeroed in on his, I think I stopped breathing.

His eyes were lighter than I would have expected, despite the rest of his dark features, and he was wearing glasses that made him look infinitely hotter, as if that were even possible.

“Can I help you?” the stranger asked amusedly as I tried to pick my jaw up off the floor.

“Oh, shit!” I shrieked. “Shit, shit, shit,” I continued while I scrambled to pick up the grocery items that were now all over the ground.

The handsome stranger approached and crouched down to help me.

Our hands touched, and I swear I felt that touch all the way in my toes.

When I looked up at him again, I froze and my mouth returned to its aforementioned position of agape.

“Hey, are you okay?” He was looking at me as if I were a lunatic. Maybe I was. Was I in the wrong place?

“Shit, sorry, yeah. Um, I may have the wrong place. God, I’m so sorry.

Let me check.” I dropped the groceries I was trying to clean up and pulled out my phone.

Wait, I used the code to get in. This has to be the right place, I thought .

I pulled up the confirmation email and checked the address and door code.

Yep, I was in the right place. “Um, I have this confirmation email,” I said as I turned my phone to face him.

He’d put my groceries back into the bag, minus the broken wine that was now a lost cause.

“Hmm, yeah, that’s this place, but I just checked in yesterday.” He stood, holding out my bag to me. “Looks like they double-booked. Wait right there. I’m gonna grab something to clean this up.”

Could I be more of a disaster? I was standing here eye-fucking this guy, not doing a damn thing to help clean up the mess I made.

“No, please let me help; it’s my mess.” I started to follow him and then stopped myself.

This was a stranger. I was in a fairly secluded cabin in the woods with a stranger.

I didn’t feel unsafe, but maybe I should have.

Alarm bells should’ve been ringing so loud in my head, yet there I was, trying to follow him deeper into the cabin.

Use your brain, Daphne.

He was on his way back with a broom, cleaning spray, and paper towels when he said, “No, really, it’s okay. Stay there. There’s glass all over and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” What a gentleman. Shut up, Daphne, he could be a serial killer.

I stood there like a lump on a log while hottie McSweatpants cleaned up my mess. When he finished and smiled up at me from his position on the floor, I was still staring at him like an idiot. Sweet baby Cheesus, help me.

“Well, come on in and let’s figure this out,” he said, oh so nonchalantly.

Couldn’t he tell I was losing my shit? How was he so calm?

In a daze, I followed him— still no alarm bells —into the open living area and to the kitchen island, where I placed my grocery bag, wishing now more than ever that my wine had been spared.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I blinked at him. God, he must have thought I was daft. I couldn’t even form sentences. What was wrong with me? I was an educated, articulate woman, for Christ’s sake. Shaking myself out of my ab-induced coma, I nodded.

“I have bourbon? Or I think I saw a bottle of wine somewhere in here. Maybe some water?” He started to turn to face the cabinets.

“Bourbon is great.” What the fuck Daphne, since when do you drink bourbon? Since now, that’s when.

The still half-naked stranger— why was he still shirtless?

—turned and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, added a couple of cubes of ice from the freezer, and poured in some brown liquid that I had to assume was bourbon.

He slid it across the island to me, and I grasped onto it like it was a lifeline and took a hefty swig.

Shit, that burns. I started coughing a little but mostly kept my shit together.

“I’m Nathan.” His voice was deep and sexy as hell, and yep, I was totally fucking fucked.