Married 'til Monday by Hunter Denise

Author:Hunter, Denise [Hunter, Denise]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2015-03-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.”

Abby surveyed the “cottage” from the drive as Dave’s truck rolled away. Made of gray weathered planks and roughly 10 × 12 feet, the place was more shanty than cottage. Especially since it leaned, ever so slightly, to the right.

Boo wiggled for freedom, and Abby set her down.

Ryan passed her with both bags. “It beats sleeping in the car.” He found the key under the rusty bucket on the porch and opened the door.

He flipped on the switch and stepped inside, sidling against the wall to make room for her. She instantly noticed one thing about the room: the bed took up all of it.

“Well, it’s . . . cozy,” Ryan said. “There’s a fireplace. That’s nice.”

“It’s ninety degrees in here.” Though once the sun set she’d be begging for heat.

“It’s an old fishing shack,” he said.

“That explains the smell.”

Boo snooped around the room, her nose to the floor, while Ryan dropped the luggage on the bed. There really wasn’t any other place for it. The bed—and she was being generous to the wood-framed bunk—was full sized and had a narrow pathway around it. The mattress was bare, and she sure hoped there were clean sheets somewhere.

Note to self: where was Ryan going to sleep?

The foot of the bed ended at an oblong table, holding a small TV with rabbit ears. Beside it was a mini-fridge, stacked with a microwave and a cheap coffee maker perched on top—like a small-appliance version of Jenga. Too bad they hadn’t known about the coffee maker. They’d bought instant coffee.

Beside the bed was a closed door that, presumably, led to the bathroom. She didn’t even want to see the treasures awaiting her there.

“Is there air conditioning? Or heat?” She scanned the walls for a thermostat and noticed they were made of particleboard. Someone had painted them white to give the place that nice, homey feel.

“Doesn’t look like it. We’ll get some air flowing though.” Ryan opened the door and windows, and a warm breeze wafted through. At least that might help with the smell.

“We’ll use the fireplace for heat tonight.” He scanned the room, a fond look on his face. “Reminds me of the place Dad and I used to go up on Hardy Lake. I’ll bet there’s fishing gear in that old shed out back.”

“Oh, goody.” Abby unloaded their things into the mini-fridge, setting the rest on the TV table. “How’re we going to get back into town once the car’s fixed?”

“It’s a small town, friendly folks. We’ll figure it out.” He pulled out his phone. “We have a signal. Thank You, God.”

“How can you even say that? You realize we’re stuck here. No car, basically Cheetos for supper, and who knows how long it’s going to take for repairs.”

“I know it’s not ideal, and it’s frustrating. But it could be a lot worse.”

His delusional optimism—that’s what was frustrating. The room suddenly felt hot and stifling. The walls—if you could call them that—pressed in on her. Ryan seemed to take up more than his fair share of space.

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