Terrified to chance a glance over her shoulder, she stared straight forward at the intricate iron scrolls of the headboard and the square log walls behind it. She wasn’t ready to face the music or Summer.
Suddenly, the body disappeared. A pant of searing breath at her shoulder blade conjured up imaginings of an evening she couldn’t recall. Taking into consideration her nakedness, soreness down below, and last but not at the very least a note from Summer on the bedside table, the cinematic film churning through her mind was soiled with humiliation. She felt a cold nose nudge the place where her arm met her torso. A rough tongue licked her cheek.
Hit with the intoxicating sweetness of puppy breath, triggered an instant calmness inside. Carrie Ann rolled to her side. She swore the pair of chocolate brown eyes smiled at her as the pup rested its muzzle on her pillow.
“Who are you?” she asked in a soft groggy tone. Carrie Ann stroked its soft cream colored fur a few times before locating the heart-shaped tag hanging from the pink collar. “Aspen.”
The pads of the puppy’s paws made a scratchy noise against the silky fabric as the golden retriever inched closer. Her entire body wriggled with excitement taking another swipe at Carrie Ann’s face.
She hauled the blankets up to her chest. The plush bedding held traces of the warm, sunny, familiar scent of Summer. Lying beneath a massive pealed log beam that spanned the entire room, she took in the surroundings, desperately hoping something would spark a memory of how she got there.
Rain struck against the window, running down the glass in clear ribbons. A loud pop made her lurch upright, clutching to the puppy. Uninterested in the noise or her loud squeal, Aspen began chewing on a strand of Carrie Ann’s hair. Another round of pops and hisses resonated from the glowing ambers in the fireplace.
Draping her legs over the edge of the bed, she wrapped the down blanket around her body, collected Aspen in her arms, and plodded toward the window. The dark and stormy sky gave no indication of time of day. Glancing back over her shoulder toward the bed, there was no clock anywhere in sight.
Carrie Ann peered out the window, but couldn’t see anything through the fog. Leaning closer, nearly touching her nose to the cold windowpane, she wiped the condensation from the glass. Low lying clouds hovered above a vast golden meadow stretching all the way across a valley to the base of a mountain on the other side. A very big mountain.
A deep groove notched between her brows. “What the…where the hell am I?”
Setting Aspen on the floor, she scurried to the other corner window. The puppy pounced atop the blanket dragging behind Carrie Ann’s feet. Grabbing a corner between her sharp teeth, she barked and growled playfully, shaking the fluffy fabric in her mouth like a chew toy.
“Shh. No, no.” Carrie Ann warned with a quick snap of her fingers.
Aspen released the blanket, looking up at her with sad dejected puppy eyes.
“Come here.” She scooped a free hand under her soft, pink belly.
A thick forest of tall pine trees consumed the view. She couldn’t escape the uncertainty and doubt clouding her mind. The more she tried to remember what happened the madder she got. Inner turmoil churned like the threatening darkness beyond the window. The last thing she recalled was being on the dance floor with Jason and then…Summer standing under the tree.
Stifling her instantaneous I’m going to kick his ass reaction, she set the pooch down and warily peeked her nose out the bedroom door before making her way through the cabin. The only sounds she heard were Aspen’s nails clacking on the wide plank flooring and rain drizzling on the tin roof. The structure itself seemed rather dated, as if it’d been there for fifty years, but it’d been remodeled with a small top notch gourmet kitchen. Modern furnishings, an exquisite worn leather sofa and two love seats, created a U-shaped lounge in front of a river rock fireplace.
She couldn’t help snooping, inspecting each room, including a room that was obviously Summer’s. Inquisitively, she tip-toed inside the spacious bedroom. His tux hung on a hanger on the closet door, shoes kicked to the side of his bed. The enormous log bed was covered in luxurious expresso colored comforter. Aspen trotted by, pulling a black dress sock from his shoe, proudly towing the prize back to Carrie Ann.
“Give,” she commanded holding out her hand. The puppy crouched on her front paws while sticking her tail in the air, wagging it back-and-forth. Carrie Ann said sternly, “No, no. Aspen, give.”
The puppy relinquished the sock and flopped to her back, exposing her pink belly for a pat. Ambling toward his tux, the sunny scent of him lingered, bringing warmth to her chest and neck. She’d never forgotten the fragrance. Carrie Ann lifted her hand to touch the jacket, but a subtle ache behind her heart forced her to pull back.
There’d been countless times over the years that she missed him. Lonely nights filled with visions of his simple smile and others occupied with erotic moments of shared passion. But each time she allowed herself that brief moment, that blip of curiosity wondering what if things had gone differently, she paid a steep price. Days of painful heartache and melancholy always followed. The kind of hurt and sadness that brought her to tears. Wreckages from her past she wished she could wipe clean from her memory.
Moving in a slow motion, she trudged back to the room she’d slept in. Opening the armoire, she found her red dress hanging alongside several of her favorite tops, jeans, and a black bikini. Boots and shoes for every outdoor occasion were stacked neatly on the bottom two shelves of the compartmentalized make-shift closet. Another wave of uncertainty rolled through her stomach. “These are from my closet.”
She pulled open the top drawer. Anger flourished finding bras, and panties as well as a few pieces of her special lingerie. Her lip lifted into a snarl. Reaching in for a pair of silky leopard print panties exposed another of her favorite goodies. Mr. Fucking Perfect, her climactic pleasure toy of choice, guaranteed to bring pulsating satisfaction every time, lay nestled between her undies.
“Oh. My. God.” Her eyes darted around the room making sure no one was watching. She could feel the heat throbbing in her cheeks. “Oh, this is not cool. What the hell?”
Roughly snatching an outfit from the hangers, Carrie Ann marched to the bathroom to get dressed. She shoved her fingers into her hair, raking through the leftover up-do. Her overnight bag sat on the counter. Half terrified to look inside, she forced herself to yank on the zipper.
“Fuck. Fuckity-fuck.” A catalog of colors, red and pink polish, filled half the tote. A flash of panic ensued, instantly compelling her gaze to drop to her feet. She huffed out a sigh of relief noting no change in her toenail polish. The man had a serious crush on her feet.
Dragging a toothbrush across her teeth, she yanked the oversized knit cranberry sweater over her head and threw on a pair of skinny jeans. She splashed water on her face, thumbing over the smudged mascara and leftover party face. Mounting fury and humiliation did a dangerous dance inside her, morphing into an explosive cocktail of tenacity. She crammed her feet into her boots, tying the laces with lethal force.
Carrie Ann marched out the back door heading for a barn fifty yards from the cabin. Drops of cool water pelted her face and cheeks. With every grinding step came another blow of fury. Where was she? Why didn’t she remember anything? Why the hell was she naked? The last thought was almost a given…they’d obviously had sex. And they’d most definitely slept in the same bed.
By the time she reached the barn, rage charged through her veins. Aspen scampered ahead, darting through a doggie door. Burying her shame in a fractious show of obstinacy, she yanked the door and stormed inside.