Page 160 of The Havenport Collection

Maggie

“ W here is this place?” I asked, shifting in my seat to crane my neck up the mountain we were scaling in Josh’s car.

“The GPS says another half mile,” he replied, navigating the switchbacks. Josh’s Prius was a wonderful car for commuting, but I was beginning to think it was not ideal for mountain terrain.

We climbed higher and higher, up the steepest driveway I had ever seen, until the pine trees cleared and a massive timber lodge stood, perched on the face of the mountain, overlooking what felt like the entire state below.

“That’s a cabin?” I asked incredulously, eyeing the massive structure. Yes, it was constructed of logs, but that was where the similarities ended.

“For Lucas Kim, it is.”

It was an enormous lodge with a green metal roof.

One entire side was made of windows, looking out over the White Mountains with a view so panoramic, one could probably see into Vermont.

There was a detached garage with four bays and another outbuilding.

The long, circular drive was freshly plowed and led up to a large porch.

A light dusting of snow blanketed the scene like something out of a movie.

“I guess we can check it out,” I said, getting out of the car, eager to see what a billionaire’s “cabin” was like.

We walked through the entryway into a massive great room with a floor-to-ceiling fieldstone fireplace opposite the wall of windows.

Cognac leather couches decorated with plush plaid throw pillows.

The room was tastefully decorated for Christmas with all-white decorations and subtle lights.

Across the mantel, a thick garland was draped and decorated with various twigs and pine cones, giving the room a beautiful evergreen scent.

We made our way through the house, stopping to admire the dining room with a table for twenty, the massive chef’s kitchen, and the study filled with hundreds of leather-bound books.

“This must be the master bedroom,” Josh said, opening a large door.

The room was massive and had only a king-size bed that faced yet another wall of windows.

There were probably a dozen pillows piled on top of the crisp white duvet.

I looked around. “I guess at the top of a mountain you really don’t need much privacy.”

Josh laughed. “Or Lucas is an exhibitionist. I am so going to give him shit for that later.” We wandered around, admiring the bathroom that had both a claw-foot tub and a glass-walled shower big enough for a moderate-sized orgy.

“What’s this door?” I asked, turning the deadbolt.

Josh shrugged and walked toward me. The door led to a small deck that looked out at the valley below, and in the middle of it sat a large hot tub that was already steaming.

Josh was standing behind me, heat radiating from his body. He was so close, but at the same time, not close enough. I looked over my shoulder, and he gave me a sexy smile. Great. Now we were both thinking about the last time we were in a hot tub together.

“Look at this view.” Josh took another step closer until my back was flush against his chest. He put one hand on my shoulder and used the other to point at the mountains. “It’s incredible. I’m pretty sure that’s the entire Presidential Range.”

I nodded, unable to speak while I attempted to banish the sexy thoughts from my brain, but they kept popping back up.

We had traveled all the way to this beautiful house on top of a mountain to be alone together, and within ten minutes, I was fantasizing about riding my husband in the hot tub while looking out at the mountains. I was a mess.

“Is this a refrigerator?” I asked, stepping away from Josh and over to where shelves and cabinets were built into the decking. I opened the door and found a small beverage fridge stocked with champagne and several varieties of craft beer.

“Damn,” Josh said. “A hot tub fridge?”

“He is rich,” I replied, glad to have diverted attention away from the hot tub and our shared memories.

I used this opportunity to wander back into the house, hoping to get away from the big bed, the big shower, and the sexy hot tub with its own liquor cabinet.

Neutral ground is what we needed, and this definitely was not it.

“You can take this room,” Josh offered, to my relief.

We absolutely could not share a room. Not right now at least. The point of this weekend was to think and to talk.

And I needed some personal space in order to do that.

After a year of sleeping alone, I wasn’t ready to welcome him back into my bed.

“Thanks.” I grabbed my bag and headed to the bathroom to unpack my toiletries, making sure to grab a thick, soft cardigan on the way.

It was warm but not even remotely sexy, which was all part of my strategy.

In order to survive the weekend in this sexy, remote place, I had deliberately packed sweats and other frumpy clothes.

I knew myself, and I knew I could not afford to get distracted by my sexy husband.

Granny panties and slouchy sweats were my armor, my protection against Josh’s charms. I wasn’t here to fuck my husband, but to talk to him. But right now, while I stared at the roaring fire and the enormous bed, fucking my husband sounded like a really good idea.

I couldn’t remember the specifics of the last time we had sex. Of course, like anyone in a long-term relationship, I remembered the highlights of the last fifteen years, but not a lot of the specifics. Were my friends right? Would good sex help us find our way back to one another?

Donning my cardigan and carrying a new book Cece had loaned me, I made my way to the living room. I chose an enormous leather armchair that faced the mountains and pulled my feet up and under me. It felt decadent to curl up with a book and enjoy the gorgeous view.

Josh busied himself in the kitchen, marveling at the fancy range and the endless high-tech cooking gadgets. “The fridge is stocked,” he yelled over his shoulder. “Champagne and strawberries and lots of charcuterie.”

I laughed. Of course Lucas Kim had the place stocked with seduction essentials. He probably brought all his conquests here. I made a mental note to warn Nora.

After a few more minutes of banging around in the kitchen, Josh emerged with an oversized mug of tea. I took a moment to drink him in—the stubble, the intense dark eyes, and his large, strong hands. Having such a smoking-hot husband really made everything more difficult.

“It’s jasmine,” he said, placing it on a coaster on the table next to me.

Had he remembered it was my favorite, or was it blind luck? I took a sip and closed my eyes, savoring the warmth that spread throughout my body. When I looked up, I caught Josh staring at me.

“What?” I asked him, clutching my mug.

“You look really peaceful.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, leaving me momentarily dizzy. It was such a simple, sweet gesture, and something I hadn’t realized I needed.

He smirked at me, clearly enjoying the effect he had on me. “I’ll get dinner started. You stay here. I’m cooking tonight.”

An hour later, we sat at the kitchen table where Josh had lit a few candles.

“This smells great. What is it?” I asked, pouring wine for both of us.

“Pasta carbonara.”

I shook my head. Josh could maybe boil water, but this sounded like the nightly special at Nora’s family’s Italian restaurant.

He shrugged. “I’ve been watching a lot of cooking videos on YouTube. And I saw the ingredients and just went for it.”

I sat down, slightly dubious, as Josh served the pasta and grated fresh Parmesan cheese on top. Then he sat across from me and raised his glass.

“To us,” he toasted, never breaking eye contact.

“This is delicious.” After my second helping, I had to resist the urge to lick my plate clean. My appetite had been all over the place these past few months. There were days even the thought of food made me nauseous and others where I wanted to eat a dozen donuts in one sitting.

I settled for sipping delicious wine and staring at my snack of a husband.

“What is this?” I asked, holding my glass out for a refill.

“Something fancy I found in the wine cellar. It probably costs more than our mortgage.”

“Then we better not waste it. Keep pouring.”

The wine and conversation flowed as we ate strawberries and fancy chocolate, and I could feel myself loosening up.

“You look beautiful.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop, Josh. I’m wearing sweats and no makeup.”

He leaned across the table and took my hand. A shiver ran down my spine, making me inwardly curse my body for betraying me.

“Maggie, you’re always beautiful. But you’re especially beautiful right now. Relaxed, happy, and eating food I made for you.”

“Do you remember the first time you cooked for me?” I teased.

He leaned back in his chair. “How could I forget? We both spent forty-eight hours shitting our brains out.”

I laughed so hard I almost snorted my wine. “That was the worst diarrhea I have ever had.”

“That’s what I get for buying bargain lobsters. Dean said the guy was a legit fisherman.”

I shuddered. Josh had gone all out for our one-year anniversary, cooking me a romantic dinner of lobster risotto and springing for champagne. We had just started on the ice cream when we simultaneously ran for the bathroom.

Josh wiped tears from his eyes. “That was so bad. I remember thinking that I was going to die on that dingy bathroom floor.”

“It was a horrific apartment.”

“But not as bad as the one on St. Stephen’s Street.”

We looked at each other and said “rat fights” at the same time.

“Jinx,” I squealed.

“That place was so sketchy,” he said, still laughing. “Our subterranean lair.”

We had moved in together at twenty-one, and our first place had been a terrible basement apartment in Boston.

It was maybe three hundred square feet and had bars across the tiny basement windows.

There were large bushes outside our bedroom where rats would congregate at night, fighting and hissing at each other.

Some nights we were woken up by the sounds outside the window or coming from any number of creatures that lived in that basement with us.

Thankfully Josh was a gentleman and managed all the pest removal.

We had lived in several terrible apartments, but that one was truly the worst.

“We’ve come a long way, kid,” he said, raising his glass.

And we had. Together we had survived parenthood, graduate school, careers, and buying a home. We were full-fledged adults now, with life insurance and wills and 401ks. “It feels like five minutes ago we were living in that apartment, just trying to survive,” I replied.

“Where did all the years go?”

“I don’t know.” I let out a long breath.

“To us,” he said again. “Because we’re not perfect, but we’ve done a damn good job.”

I smiled at him. “To us,” I whispered.

I don’t know whether it was the fire or the wine, but I was feeling things. Things I hadn’t felt in a long time. My face was flushed and my body longed to touch him. To run my fingers through his thick hair, to feel his strong hands on my body.

Our kiss at Cece’s wedding had pried open a door that I had long kept closed.

It was time to extricate myself before things went too far. “I’ll do the dishes,” I volunteered, standing on shaky legs, determined to put some space between us.

Josh smirked and huffed a laugh. He knew I was avoiding further intimacy, but he had the grace not to call me out on it. “It won’t take you long. The kitchen has two dishwashers.”

I shook my head. “Two dishwashers? Rich people are crazy.”

I took my time cleaning up, trying to sort through the emotions warring inside my brain.

There was no playbook for this, no strategy, no plan.

I knew with certainty that I wanted Josh.

But I was paralyzed with fear. What if he didn’t want me?

What if he wasn’t ready? What if I wasn’t ready?

We’d had such a nice time together; I couldn’t risk ruining it.

So after washing up, I excused myself and headed to my bedroom, alone and not happy about it.