Two Hearts

This Was Definitely a Bad Idea

Daniel's POV

The moment we arrived at the cabin, I showed Laura the guest room and retreated to my own bedroom.

Finally.

My room. Not the couch. Not pretending I didn't mind sleeping downstairs.

I stepped inside and looked around.

Everything was exactly as I had left it. The same furniture. The same scent of wood and sea air. The same silence.

I let out a long breath. These were going to be the longest two days of my life.

I dropped my bag onto the bed without bothering to unpack.

Later. I'd do it later. Right now, I needed to get out. I needed to move. To do something.

Anything.

So I headed straight for the woodshed. Axe. Logs. The familiar routine.

One log.

Two.

Three.

The sharp c***k of splitting wood echoed through the yard. With every swing, some of the tension left my body.

Not enough. But enough to keep me sane.

Everything felt like too much lately. The contract. The wedding photos. My father. The kiss. Laura.

Especially Laura.

I paused.

Was she really too much? If she was, then why had I brought her here? Why had I invited her in the first place? The thought irritated me immediately.

I buried the axe into another log. Harder than necessary.

Eventually I ran out of wood to split. Which was unfortunate. Because it meant I had to find another excuse to stay outside.

I grabbed the toolbox and started walking around the cabin. A loose board near the porch caught my attention.

Perfect.

A completely unnecessary repair. Exactly what I needed.

I knew what I was doing. I wasn't fixing things because they needed fixing. I was avoiding going back inside. Avoiding being alone with Laura.

Which was ridiculous.

She wasn't dangerous. She wasn't going to attack me. Yet somehow being alone with her felt more intimidating than most board meetings.

When I finally stepped back inside, the smell of food hit me instantly. My stomach growled. I hadn't eaten anything substantial all day.

Just coffee. And more coffee. Including the one Laura had called poison at the gas station.

The memory still made me smirk.

I walked past the fireplace and noticed there was already enough wood stacked beside it from our previous visit. More than enough. So why exactly had I spent the last hour chopping more?

I chose not to answer that question.

After lighting the fire, I headed toward the kitchen. Toward the inevitable. Toward Laura.

She stood at the counter, completely absorbed in whatever she was doing. Calm. Focused. Unaware.

I leaned against the doorway and simply watched her. For longer than I probably should have. Then she turned around. And nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Aah!"

A kitchen towel came flying at my head. I caught it automatically.

"You scared me!"

The outrage on her face was so genuine that I couldn't help it. A grin appeared.

"What? Am I really that terrifying?"

"That's not what I meant." She rolled her eyes. "You just appeared out of nowhere."

I shrugged.

"I was outside."

"I know." The answer came too quickly.

Interesting. My grin widened.

"You know?"

Immediately she started stumbling over her explanation. And suddenly I found myself enjoying it far more than I should.

She was nervous. Actually nervous. And trying very hard not to admit she'd been watching me. It was strangely satisfying.

"I am not stalking you," she finally declared.

"Whatever you say."

The look she gave me could have killed a weaker man.

I decided to save myself. "I'll set the table."

Dinner was surprisingly peaceful. No arguments. No accusations. No disasters.

Just food. Wine.

And silence. Not uncomfortable silence.

Just... quiet.

I noticed Laura emptying her wine glass faster than usual. One glass. Then another. Then another. She was nervous about something. The problem was I had absolutely no idea what.

Sometimes I thought I understood her. Then five minutes later I realized I didn't understand her at all.

After dinner I grabbed my wine and headed outside.

The terrace welcomed me with familiar sounds - Waves. Wind. Silence. Peace.

A few minutes later the door opened behind me. I didn't have to turn around to know it was Laura. I could feel her hesitation. Could practically hear her debating whether to stay or leave.

"You can stay." The words left my mouth before I thought about them.

A moment later she sat down beside me. And for a while neither of us spoke.

Usually, when I came here, silence felt peaceful. Tonight it felt different. Not worse.

Just different.

Because I wasn't alone.

Laura had been suspiciously quiet for the last twenty minutes. Which was concerning. Usually she was arguing with me about something.

Then, completely out of nowhere, she broke the silence.

"You know, normal people usually have conversations."

I snorted.

"I'm not normal." That wasn't even a joke. It was the truth.

After everything life had thrown at me, normal wasn't a word I would ever use to describe myself.

"That much I've noticed." To my surprise, we both smiled.

A small moment. A stupid moment.

Yet somehow it felt important.

A cold gust of wind swept across the terrace. Laura shivered.

I glanced over. She was wearing nothing but a T-shirt. Of course she was.

"Cold?"

"A little." She shrugged. "But it's fine."

"No, it's not." I stood up and pulled off my sweatshirt.

"Here, wear it."

She stared at me like I had suddenly grown a second head.

"Daniel, you'll freeze."

"I'll survive."

"I'm fine."

Of course she refused. Laura could turn accepting a sweater into an argument. I felt my patience evaporating.

"Put it on." That came out sounding more like an order than a suggestion.

I didn't care.

She was freezing. And apparently too stubborn to admit it. Without waiting for another argument, I tossed the sweatshirt directly at her.

"Daniel!"

"Put. It. On."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. If looks could kill, I'd already be dead. Still, she pulled it over her head.

"Happy now?"

I wanted to laugh. Instead I nodded.

"Yes."

She looked ridiculous inside it. The sweatshirt was far too big. The sleeves swallowed her hands.

And somehow...

She looked comfortable. Like she belonged here. The thought immediately annoyed me.

Nobody belonged here. This place was mine. At least that's what I'd spent the last ten years telling myself.

I glanced toward her again. Wrapped inside my sweatshirt. Watching the ocean. Quiet. Peaceful.

I should say something. Anything. About the photoshoot. About the kiss. About why I had dragged her all the way back here.

Instead I sat there. Thinking. Overthinking. Doing exactly what I always did.

Nothing.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe it had always been the problem. I took a breath.

"Laura..."

No response. I frowned.

"Laura?"

Still nothing.

I turned toward her. And froze.

She was asleep.

Great. Just great. She fell asleep.

I looked at the ocean. Then the cabin. Then back at Laura. Maybe she'd wake up in a minute.

She didn't.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Still asleep.

What was I supposed to do now?

Leave her outside? Absolutely not.

Wake her up? Also no.

Carry her upstairs?

Oh God.

That was a terrible idea.

Unfortunately, it was also the only option.

Carefully, I stood and lifted her into my arms. She stirred slightly but didn't wake up.

I carried her inside. Upstairs. Into the guest room. And gently laid her on the bed.

For a moment I simply stood there looking at her.

Now what?

Leave her like this? No. That felt wrong.

Carefully, I removed her shoes and placed them beside the bed. Then I pulled a blanket over her. She looked comfortable. Safe. Peaceful. Far more peaceful than I'd ever seen her.

Maybe she'd wake up thirsty. The thought appeared before I could stop it.

And why exactly do I care?

I ignored the question.

I went downstairs. Filled a glass with water. Returned upstairs. Placed it on the nightstand.

Then quietly left the room.

Back in my own bedroom, I dropped my bag onto the floor and collapsed onto the bed.

Sleep never came.

My thoughts were moving too fast - Why was I doing this? Why did I keep worrying about her? Looking after her. Defending her. Teasing her. Thinking about her far more than I should.

What the hell was happening to me?

I stared at the ceiling for a long time. And the more I thought about it, the more obvious it became.

Bringing Laura here had been a mistake. A huge mistake.

The kind of mistake that changes everything.

This was definitely a bad idea.