Page 320 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet
Owen and I grab our bags, hop out, and say goodbye to the magic dog-van dude.
Then, we toss our things in my car, and head into the cabin. As soon as the door swings open, I set my hand on my heart. “I want to bronze this cabin.”
Owen barks out a laugh. “Man, you are weird sometimes.”
I grab his hand, tug him backward to me. “Shut up. I’m romantic.”
“You think bronzing a cabin is romantic? No, that’s weird. Even you can’t spin that one.”
I turn him around. “I can’t help it if I’m more romantic than you.”
Owen rolls his eyes.
“I just have a special place in my heart for our Fun Cabin. Wait. Better yet, let’s call it The Sex Cabin.”
“And really, what else should a cabin do but give its services to the cause of good sex?” Owen asks.
“Hottie,” I say, admonishing him, “it was great sex.”
“I know. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention.”
“I am.” I hum, tapping my chin as I survey the home where I experienced not only that great sex, but also the fantastic realization that I’d fallen in love with this amazing man. “Since we had agreed not to talk about what was happening at first, what if we call this Fight Club Sex Cabin?”
Owen grins. “Yes, but we’re not bronzing it. We want to use it again. Ergo, we need to be good guests at Chateau Fight Club Sex Cabin.”
And good guests we are for the next hour as we run the laundry, wash the towels and sheets, then make the bed in the guest room.
We check on the hot tub, making sure it’s covered.
Leave the cupboards open, and the faucets on a drip.
Then set a fresh bottle of champagne on the counter with a card we grabbed at the store.
Dear Cyndi and Tyler,
Your cabin is lovely! Thank you so much for letting us stay here that snowy night! We were so lucky to have this wonderful place to escape to. We left a few gifts for you to say thanks!
Love,
River and Owen
“There,” I say, setting the card on the counter. “We are the best guests ever.”
Owen surveys the place, nodding as he checks it out. “Maybe someday we’ll come back.”
I drape an arm around his shoulder. “Oh, I would love to come again.”
He laughs. “Speaking of, let’s hit the road. The sooner we’re back in San Francisco, the sooner we can do just that.”
We get in my car, and I plug my sister’s address into Waze. The snow has melted, the roads are clear, and I’m happy to be going home like this.
But there is one little thing we’re going to need to sort out.
As we leave Markleeville, I throw down the first important debate for our return road trip. “All right, hottie. We need a new rule.”
“To supersede the Harry and Rod rule?” Owen asks as I merge onto the highway taking us south. “Because sex is a humongous gamble a couple must decide to take.”
“Yes. We gambled and it’s worth it, so we are throwing it out,” I say, miming tossing something out the window. “Writing a new one.”