XOXO: A Bundle of Cozy Novellas

Chapter 3

THREE

Chapter Three—Cullen

Jude Collins, owner and CEO of the multimillion-dollar software company Canopus, looked like he needed a strong buzz or a good fuck, maybe both. Cullen recognized the man and the symptoms, of course. Who wouldn’t? He was an important figure in Cullen’s hometown of Skagit. Jude Collins was some kind of genius who’d started a software company with a loan from a friend (or was it a grant? Cullen never remembered stuff like that) and he’d never looked back.

Shutting the front door, Cullen eyed the man as he staggered to the small kitchen island and shoved his grocery bags on top of it. Jude. Cullen liked that name. It rolled off the tongue nicely—and yeah, he’d sung it just to be an ass. Jude was a pretty average-looking guy, not tall or short, not skinny or heavy, with dark brown hair that curled slightly. His eye color Cullen wasn’t sure of, possibly hazel. But his lips had Cullen thinking about things other than whatever the hell Jude Collins was doing at his door.

What was he thinking, letting this guy stay when Shay had clearly told him it was free for the month? Other than the fact that forcing Jude out into the snowstorm was likely a death sentence. Surely if Shay had changed his mind in the few hours it had taken Cullen to get on the road he would have called?

Cullen remembered passing that fancy SUV with the temporary plates taped to the back window on the lake road over an hour ago. The guy’d been driving like a little old lady, twenty miles an hour at most, and was lucky he hadn’t caused an accident.

“You’re lucky you didn’t cause an accident, driving like you were. What were you thinking?” Cullen asked, in an effort to stop thinking about his unexpected guest’s lips.

Jude spun around, his—ah yes, hazel—eyes blazing. “I was trying not to drive off the road or miss the turn. I was trying not to kill myself or anyone else.”

“The turn was like another four miles from where I passed you. And driving like that you totally could’ve done both. At least put your flashers on,” Cullen said matter-of-factly. Moving past Jude into the kitchenette, Cullen tugged open a drawer and searched around for a bottle opener.

“What are you doing?” Jude demanded.

“Since you don’t drink beer, I’m opening a bottle of wine.” Cullen pulled the bottle of red wine he’d brought closer to himself. “And probably more than one as I have a wicked hangover. Fight fire with fire, right? Besides, it is New Year’s Eve, celebrating the new year, and all that.” He pushed the corkscrew into the cork, twisted downward, then tugged the cork out with a satisfying pop. “Do you want some?” Cullen hunted around in Shay’s cupboards for glasses.

“Um.” Jude began. Cullen glanced over at the other man, who had his back to Cullen. Jude looked back over his shoulder, nodding. “A glass of wine sounds good. Is that door the bathroom?”

“Yep. And that ladder goes to the sleeping area.” Cullen nodded vaguely towards the wall opposite the kitchenette.

Jude’s eyes swung to the ladder leading up to the small loft where Cullen knew a double mattress took up all the floor space.

If his Uncle Shay had built this cabin from the ground up it most likely would have been much fancier, but he’d inherited it from his father’s side of the family, who’d owned it for well over one hundred years. When the government had established Baker National Forest in 1897, the family had accepted a sort-of-forever lease; they could never sell it, but they could always own it. And it had to stay on the same footprint, so it wasn’t getting any larger. It was perfect for one, or a close family, but not for two men who’d only met that day—and not on purpose.

Jude’s suspicious gaze moved to the couch in front of the fireplace. Cullen could practically see his brain take in the piece of furniture’s measurements and wonder who would be sleeping on it. Cullen snorted; at six-four he barely fit on the loft mattress. Stretching out on that couch? Not gonna happen.

“When are you leaving?” Jude asked abruptly, his disconcerting hazel eyes catching Cullen’s stare.

“Excuse me?”

“When. Are. You. Leaving.” Jude enunciated slowly and with great condescension, as if Cullen hadn’t been paying close enough attention.

Until that moment Cullen had been sort of warming up to rude Jude, thinking about babying him a little. Maybe make him dinner, have some wine together—and okay, he definitely had a vivid imagination, but still.

“I rented this cabin for the month so I could be alone, and I expect to be alone.”

Cullen barked out a laugh before taking a big swig of wine. The stuff wasn’t great, but he managed to avoid grimacing.

“Not going anywhere. I was here first and I have a personal invitation from my uncle who happens to own this place.” His (now useless) cell phone sat on the counter where he’d left it. Picking it up, Cullen scrolled to the last text he’d received and held it out to Jude, who snatched the device and read the screen silently.

“Fuck. What did I pay for then? Is your uncle some kind of scammer? I rented this cabin from December 31 to the end of January, and I’ll be damned if I’m not getting what I paid for.”

Cullen shrugged, leaning against the countertop. “Sorry, dude.” Managing not to sound sorry at all. And he wasn’t. Jude Collins had more money than God but that didn’t mean he could be an asshole or that everything would always go his way. “Have some wine, maybe it will help.” He illustrated his point by taking another big gulp from his glass.

Jude glowered at him, but Cullen calmly met his look. Screw that guy, Cullen had been glared at by scarier people. And Jude’s scowl was kind of hot, his hazel eyes a deep shade of green now that he was really angry. Cullen vaguely wondered what color they turned when Jude was something other than angry.

Internally rolling his eyes at himself, Cullen stomped out that disastrous train of thought. Even if Jude Collins were gay, he’d want a successful fellow businessman not a loser. And Cullen was supposed to be reconsidering his life choices. Or something. At least, that was the plan.

He gulped down the rest of the wine he’d poured, noting absently that it was starting to taste better. Setting his glass down on the counter behind him, Cullen padded over to the front door where his boots were and slipped his bare feet into them before shrugging into his coat. “I’ll get the rest of your stuff.” He needed some fresh air. Besides, the likelihood of Jude getting lost between the cabin and his car seemed high.

It took two more trips. How much stuff did one guy need for a month? Cullen suppressed the desire to look through the bags of groceries and supplies and he wondered where Jude thought all of it would fit. They’d figure it out—from the weight of the bags, much of the food seemed to be canned goods which could be stacked somewhere out of the way until tomorrow when Jude left.

“I think that’s everything, unless you had something in the front?”

Jude was still standing where Cullen had left him. He’d finally taken off his coat and hung it over the back of one of the stools tucked against the counter. And, Cullen noticed, he’d taken off his shoes, flashing a peek of socks with some kind of cartoon on them. Was it possible the man was actually human underneath his stony exterior?

Jude shook his head as he stared blankly at the countertop. “I brought in my computer bag.” Cullen wondered if he was starting to realize there was no controlling the situation, they were stuck together until tomorrow and possibly longer.

“You know there’s no internet, right?” Cullen said as he rehung his coat on the hook next to the door and toed his boots off again. “And no cell service, we’re in a dead zone.”

“Dead zone,” Jude repeated with a sigh.

“That’s all on the website, I’m sure. Shay’s good with that stuff.”

“Believe me, I wanted a place with no internet, I just didn’t know spotty cell service actually meant none.”