Chapter Fourteen
Jen
The truck finally stopped in front of a small cabin tucked into the pine forest.
The windows were dark. “When was the last time someone was here?”
“I have a maid dust it once a week and the maintenance guy stops in once a month to do a walk-around unless there’s a problem. Let me show you where I grew up.”
Dylan got out of the truck and hurried around to my side. Where my house was kind of a ranch style, wider across the front than it was deep, his log cabin had a window on each side of the front door and no garage. The porch roof was supported by log posts. He pulled out our bags from behind the bench seat and I followed him to the wide front steps. The porch was deep enough to keep the snow off unless it blew in sideways, shading the door, which was dark green.
