Page 7 of Cabin Fever Baby
But he loved it too much to focus on anything else, and that was why I was dragging him here into Crescent Cove to enjoy some family time. He was beyond burned out and needed some time to just be Q, not the international sensation Quentin Hawkins.
Thankfully, the SOS call to my other siblings had cemented an impromptu family reunion. Our parents were excited to spend their first holiday in warmer temperatures, but they would be back for New Year’s Eve.
I had the cabin for three blissful weeks. By the end of it, we’d all be tired of each other, but right now, I was excited to see everyone.
On my way back to Crescent Lake, I made a stop into Target for the rest of the things I’d need for decorating the massive cabin.
I’d made a list based on photos from the rental agent’s website. The gift shop from the orchard had gone a long way to cover what I’d needed, but my list was extensive.
I might be well off, but my family had instilled in me my need for a good bargain. By the time I left Target, my SUV was busting at the seams with boxes and bags full of holiday cheer.
The adrenaline of finding all my treasures was also waning. It had been a long day of travel from Chicago.
Q’s last concert of the Playlists & Apologies Tour had been two days ago, and he’d disappeared on his motorcycle for some alone time. He had the uncanny ability to hide in plain sight. Mostly because with a hoodie and earbuds, he looked like any other twenty-something-year-old dude.
No one special, even though he absolutely was.
However, he’d promised to make his way to Crescent Cove for Christmas—mostly because Rory would be in town, but I liked to think his family was some of the draw.
And hopefully, I’d be able to convince Rory to encourage my brother to take some time off. As much as I worried about him, maybe taking off on his motorcycle for a few months would be best.
After he ate himself silly and hung out with his family first, of course.
I consulted the maps app as I drove around the massive lake, all the while trying not to be distracted by the stupendous holiday lights—again. I’d lived in Manhattan for ages, but somehow these charming decorations were even more of a marvel than the expensive corporate displays.
My attention was caught by Santa and his reindeer, a family of snowmen waving, and finally, a carousel of horses with an elaborately timed symphony of lights set to music.
After all the revelry, it was a little overwhelming when I hit a dark patch where the only light was moonlight glimmering faintly on the endless expanse of water. Shockingly, my signal held out long enough for the app to lead me to Bond Lane that ribboned along the edge of the lake.
I turned off the music, and I rolled down my window to hear the soft lapping on the rocky beach. The quick slap of cold after the warmth of my car invigorated me, and I dragged in the sharp scent of water before the road curved into a grouping of sturdy pine and regal oak trees devoid of leaves that showed a hint of the cabin on the next rise.
When it came into full view, the actuality of it stole my breath. White lit evergreen garland hugged the stately columns of the wraparound porch and echoed along the tops of the railings. Simple, warmly lit Christmas kissing balls hung from the ceiling of the porch on either side of the grand staircase. A fat, simple green wreath with a massive red bow softened the front.
Unable to wait a moment longer, I turned off my SUV and rushed up the river rock and dark wood steps to find the discreet security lock above the doorknob.
I’d already memorized the combination and tapped it in, pushing the door open only to sag against the door. Even with all the opulence I’d seen since Q’s rise in fame, I wasn’t ready for this cabin. There was no vestibule, just the main living area with a massive fireplace that echoed the river rock and dark wood of the porch, which took up nearly one wall. Two built-in bookcases flanked it with a wide variety of books, both hardcover and paperbacks in what looked like a good selection of genres. Charming, framed winter prints were staggered on the mantel invarying sizes, drawing the eye up the river rocks that made up the wall feature to the beams that framed out the high ceilings.
Twelve feet ceilings and then some.
Briefly, I glanced at the staircase, picturing the tree in front of the glossy wood railing. There was a small alcove that would be perfect for it.
But it was the windows that really stole the show.
The whole back of the cabin was all windows from floor to ceiling with discreet doors that didn’t take anything away from the lakeside view. The wraparound porch continued with more lights and a charming sway of three large kissing balls.
I closed the front door and crossed to the windows, my fingertips trailing over one of the four suede couches on my way by.
There was a gift basket on the coffee table in the center of the conversation space, but I was too distracted by the view to look closer at the contents.
Even in the darkness, the lake beckoned. I unlocked the door and the breeze off the water chilled me to the bone, but it made me feel more alive than I had in months. The water seemed vast and endless, and the water was choppy with the increased wind.
My gaze lifted to the sky. It was dark and clear, but in the distance, clouds were rolling in.
The famed lake effect in real time?
A shiver of unease slinked up my spine.
Was that just the overcast skies of winter or something more? I patted my hip pocket, but my phone was still in the car. I’d have to check the weather and make sure there wasn’t a storm coming this way.