Page 88 of The Quit List
It’s stunning.
“We’re here,” Jax confirms, his eyes skating over my face. “Welcome to the basecamp for Grainger Guides.”
“Love the name.” I smile at him.
“It’s a work in progress,” he replies easily. “Maybe you can help me workshop it.”
Jax turns off the van and hops out, going round the back to unload our backpacks. Rick immediately dashes into the clearing and starts running in circles, and I get out after him and stretch my back, looking down at my now-dirty outfit.
Earlier today, I worried things might be tense between Jax and I after what happened last week. Thought there might be some awkwardness given that I basically said I wanted to kiss the guy, and he went on to give me a chaste forehead peck. But everything feels totally fine.
Well, aside from the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about how his forearms looked as he rested one over the steering wheel on the highway (hot. They looked hot. And bonus, those scratches seem to have healed up marvelously).
“This is so, so much better than you made it out to be,” I tell him as I look around in wonder. The log cabin is at the far end of the clearing. It’s got a sloping roof with a chimney, and a huge wraparound deck that’s just begging you to pull up a chair and read a good book.
“I haven’t even given you the tour yet.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
He smirks at me, but I sense a flash of hesitation in his expression. “Guess it’s now or never.”
It’s funny. As confident and relaxed as Jax generally is, he seems more reserved than usual while giving me the grand tour. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because it’s odd for him to have me out here in this place.
He leads me through a kitchen and living area, a small room he plans to make his bedroom, and another, much bigger space that he tells me will be the bunkroom for guests (it’s also where I will be sleeping tonight, apparently).
When we step out onto the large back deck he built with Aaron and his brother-in-law, I have to catch my breath. It’s topped with cozy furniture that Jax assembled himself and multiple strings of solar-powered lights that are beginning to glow against the indigo-streaked sky as night officially falls upon us.
“Jax, this is amazing! People are going to go nuts for this.”
“Wouldn’t say that yet. You haven’t seen the outhouse.”
“Lead the way,” I reply, my voice full of false enthusiasm for all things outdoor-toilet.
We walk off the deck and he leads me around the corner to another surprise: along the back wall of the cabin, Jax has rigged up an outdoor shower that uses water heated by the sun.
“Can’t say I’ve ever showered in the wild before,” I say with a laugh. The thought doesn’t actually sound all that bad. In fact, it sounds kind of… fun. Freeing. You can just bare all to the surrounding trees.
“It can be a lot of fun,” he tells me, confirming my thoughts, and I feel my cheeks heat. I wonder how many dates he’s taken up here. If they’ve used this shower, too.
I don’t really like the thought.
“Feel free to use it whenever you like,” he says with a teasing little wink.
“Maybe I’ll try it out tonight.” My words come out more sultry than I intend, and I catch a flare of what looks like heat in Jax’s slate eyes before he looks away. “Let’s go check out the outhouse!” I add, and let me tell you, if there’s one way to dampen a spark of heat, it’s an outdoor toilet.
We walk to the edge of the clearing and he shows me a little hut-type building that’s made of the same wood as the log cabin. It almost looks like a secluded shed. We don’t go inside, and I don’t care to peek—unlike the outdoor shower, the thought of using the outhouse does not have me jumping with joy.
“I know it’s not glamorous,” Jax says, his slate eyes somberly intent on my face. Spark-snuffing managed, apparently. “But it’s part of the experience.”
“People will want an authentic experience,” I reassure him. “It will be part of your brand.”
He laughs. “That’s one way to spin it.”
We make our way back towards the cabin. The sky is getting darker and darker, but the lights on the deck shine bright. The forest around us is quiet, but not an empty sort of quiet. I can hear the gentle sound of birds flying to their nests for the night, the rustle of wind through the leaves. I feel very much at ease.
“So what do you think, Hollywood?” Jax asks as we climb the steps onto the deck. “Is it gonna make it to the hall of fame?”
“If it were up to me, yes. Absolutely.”