burning between the lines

burning between the lines

Chapter One: The Stranger in the Snow

Jade Winters needed a break—from deadlines, expectations, and the persistent ache of loneliness. Aspen seemed perfect. Tucked away in a luxury mountain lodge with hot cocoa and snowfall, she intended to do nothing but write and sleep.

But fate had other plans.

He walked into the lounge like he owned the mountain. Damon Cross—rugged, quiet, and unfairly gorgeous. His flannel shirt clung to a body built for danger, and his green eyes met hers across the firelight. One look was all it took. A crack formed in her carefully built walls.

"You're the writer, right? Room twelve?" he asked, his voice like smoke and gravel.

"And you're the resident stalker?" she replied with a smirk.

He smiled, slow and crooked. "No. I'm the local distraction."

Their banter had the sharp heat of something inevitable. Jade wasn’t here for this—not the flirting, not the glances, and definitely not the man who looked at her like he could read her unwritten pages.

Later that night, as snow drifted past her window, she found herself thinking about him. Damon. A name that felt too powerful on her lips. She opened her laptop, intending to write. Instead, her fingers hovered over the keys, stilled by the memory of his smirk.

Outside, she saw a figure moving through the trees. Him. Shirt clinging to his back from hauling logs, muscles taut with motion. Her body betrayed her with a flush.

She shut her laptop, poured a glass of wine, and curled up under a blanket. She was here to be alone. To breathe. But already, Damon Cross had walked into her story, and Jade wasn’t sure how—or if—she’d write him out.