Cabin Clause, page 1
CABIN CLAUSE
SAPPHIC HOLIDAY NOVELLA
FRANKIE FYRE
CONTENTS
Book Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
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Doing Summer Right
A Note from Frankie
Also by Frankie Fyre
About the Author
Copyright © 2025 by Frankie Fyre
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Content Warning:
ON PAGE / EXTENSIVE DISCUSSION:
• Explicit sex on page
• Graphic language
• Loss of a parent
• Realistic sex scene in snow (AKA Short AF)
OFF PAGE / BRIEF MENTION:
• Divorce
• PTSD related to military service
• Miscarriage
BOOK DESCRIPTION
She bought a cabin. She didn’t plan on the woman who came with it.
K-9 officer Kezia Langston emptied her savings to buy a cabin on Mistletoe Mountain. The same one her family rented every Christmas. She fought hard in the bidding war to win the property. But when Kez shows up, she discovers her ex from a decade ago…with her own set of keys in hand. The last time Kez saw Charlotte, she was marrying someone else.
Charlotte Harrington, a renowned traveling boudoir photographer, has spent years capturing beauty around the world. She’s now ready to transform the perfect cabin into a luxury Bed & Boudoir retreat. But when she locks eyes with Kezia Langston, the gorgeous police officer who looks at her like she wants to ruin her all over again, sparks ignite as she claims to own it too. Charlotte sure as hell isn’t giving up the cabin. It doesn’t help that every argument ends with them standing too close, breathing a little too hard.
A conflicting clause in each contract means neither can force the other out.
Between stolen glances, a corgi puppy with a sock fetish, and dark nights that leave them with nothing but each other, second chance flames threaten to reignite.
As snow falls on Mistletoe Mountain, old secrets surface and Kez and Charlotte must decide if this cabin—and the love they left behind—is worth fighting for one more time.
This second chance sapphic holiday romance features only one bed, a chaotic corgi, delicious sexual tension, and a happily ever after.
CHAPTER 1
KEZ
Just like that, everything changes. The air shifts around all three of us, an empire built on twenty years of friendship crumbling with it. Charlotte retreats toward her car at my words and I trace a finger in the sand as the white-crested ocean waves crash into the shore. I have no choice—it's now or never. Or, at least, that's what I thought ten minutes ago. I chew on my lip, place my aviator sunglasses on top of my head and gaze toward the sky, allowing the blazing sun to nearly blind me. I, Kez Langston, whose ability to speak the wrong words at the right time always gets me into trouble, did it again. Damnit.
I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly, unable to avoid Clara's death glare. Charlotte is marching toward the blanket to retrieve her purse, while I stand rooted to the spot, trying to figure out how to get my foot out of my mouth.
"Fuck, Kez! You can't drop a bomb like that a week before someone gets married. For fuck's sake, she just wanted a simple, calm bachelorette party with just the three of us before the chaos of over three hundred guests. You had one job—be here. All you had to do was leave the airport, show up, and surprise her. Not whatever the hell that was." Clara throws her hands up in exasperation while facing the ocean. "And thank you for making me the world's worst maid of honor!"
“I'm sorry, Clara, but I had to,” I mutter, burying my face in my hands. "Great. Now Charlotte hates me."
Clara huffs. "In what universe would you two be together? She doesn't even like women. I told you that years ago." She compresses her lips for a moment, then meets my eyes. "How the hell else was she supposed to react?"
The lump in my throat is already too much to handle. A tear teases the corner of my eye. "She's my best friend. Hell, all three of us have been since grade school. That hasn't changed."
“Don't you think it's obvious your feelings for her have? That changes everything. Life isn't that simple.” Clara sighs in resignation and plops down beside me. “Look. I've been there. Unrequited love sucks, but you can't just show up after eighteen months overseas and expect her to drop her entire life for you.”
Somehow, I blink the tears away. "I thought I could let her go, but I—"
I clamp my mouth shut. There's no use arguing. Clara won't understand, already blinded by her temper. Defeated, I stand and stroll down the beach, kicking the sand. Why would I want to sit there and listen to Clara? She knows nothing. Then again, running from what's hard is what I do. It’s the reason I'm in this mess to begin with. If only I had spoken the truth and hadn't run from my past, everything would be different.
Thirteen steps. That’s how long it takes to remember why I came to this beach. Clara’s words sink in. Unrequited love sucks. She doesn't get it. I came back to fight. Fight for Charlotte Harrington. Exhausted by the war in my heart, I turn towards Clara, fists clenched, ready to unleash the fire inside.
I shout, “You act like I went through a midlife crisis! I wasn’t backpacking in Europe. How was I supposed to know the military would call me back days before my Individual Ready Reserve was up? You think I wanted to leave? To come back to this?”
A stone-cold expression crosses Clara's face. She scrunches her eyebrows just like she used to when we were kids and got into a fight. "That's my point! Of all people, you know what it's like to have the rug pulled out from under you, a tornado of your past decisions wreaking havoc on all you've built. You're willing to push that onto Charlotte? Even after all these years? Jesus, you're more selfish than I thought."
"You do not know what you're talking about," I snap, gritting my teeth before dropping my gaze to the conch shell near my boot.
"Selfishness hurts people. Yours specifically, and Charlotte doesn't deserve that. She found someone who treats her with love and respect, someone who gives a shit about her wants and needs. Are you even willing to love someone more than yourself?"
My mouth goes dry. I hate that Clara is right. I should have confessed years ago, before signing my life away to the government. Yet, I'm too late. Again. I didn't deserve her love then, and I'm a fool to think I would now.
My attention shifts swiftly to Charlotte who has nearly reached the blanket. I shove past Clara. It's rude as hell, but I need to do something, say anything, that will reach Charlotte. The clock is ticking and I refuse to quit now. As she snatches her purse and turns toward the car, I gently grab her arm.
"Answer me this," I beg. Peering into her hazel eyes, I lick my lips. "Do you love him?"
"What?" Charlotte yanks her head back and rips her arm away. "Of course I do. I'm marrying him."
Panic sets in and I’m suddenly aware of the sweat trickling down my lower back. Without thinking, more words spill out. "Just give me time."
Charlotte gives me an incredulous look. "For what? You realize my wedding day is in less than a week, don't you?"
I clasp my hands together, my voice pleading. "Now that I'm back, let me show you everything I didn't have the courage to do before. Please, give us a chance."
Charlotte huffs. “You're incorrigible, Kez! Are you too conceited or thick-skulled to get it?" She points a finger back and forth between us. "There is no us. I don't feel the same way about you. You're too late, even if I once did."
My stomach sinks to unthinkable depths while I stare at her. "So, that's it? It all meant nothing? Be honest with yourself, for once." With my last bit of resolve, I grab her hand, only to let go the second we touch. Instead, I hold her gaze, hoping there's still a chance. After more silence, I finally speak. "Fine, I'll say it. I love you, and you love me."
I hold my breath, locking eyes with the woman I love, and ignoring the confusion on Clara's face.
Charlotte pauses. She places her hands on her hips. “Fine. You want the truth?” The air stills as she closes the distance. “Dating you was a mistake. It ruined our friendship. And for what? To be left and ignored for years. I wrote to you every week. Called you. Texted you over and over again for months. What did I get? Nothing. I didn't know if you were dead or alive. Then, today, you have the audacity to waltz up in your uniform, asking me not to get married. Who the hell do you take me for?”
Speechless, I shift my stance. The sound of water crashing against stones, squawking seagulls, and cars in the distance are all drowned out by my pounding heart. Our secluded childhood hangout that once held so many memories—the laughter, tears, the foundation of our friendship—has transformed into a place of shattered dreams.
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I didn't know if I'd be dead or alive either. Is this my price to pay? I don't deserve any good woman's heart and soul, especially not Charlotte's.
"Hold up." Clara interrupts and raises both arms, open palms into the air. Her usual pale cheeks are now fiery red. "You two dated and hid everything from me?"
"It's...complicated," I mutter, then nod toward the ground. No point in lying now. "For three years, but then I went back to the—"
"Two years and seven months." Charlotte cuts me off with an icy glare.
"Almost three years?" Clara’s jaw hangs ajar. She blinks for the fifth time standing in silence, seemingly connecting the dots. “Un-fucking-believable. Some best friends I have. Always leaving me out when I'm the one bending over backward for you.”
"With you being a reporter, we couldn't risk people knowing." I blurt, then wince at my word choice.
“What are you trying to say?” she glances from me to Charlotte. Her wow is silent, but not its impact. “Why would I—” She retreats and pauses. “Never mind. I'm leaving. Someone has to finish the rehearsal plans.”
Only when she halts and turns do I see the hurt in those emerald eyes. The fire fades as she faces us with a trembling chin. “I’m tired of being taken for granted. After the wedding, I’m done.” She stares at the ground for what feels like forever. “With both of you. See you at the rehearsal.”
“Clara, wait." We plead simultaneously, but the damage is done. She's gone in the blink of an eye.
Charlotte flashes me a look of disbelief, then shakes her head. “Lovely. Just lovely.”
Without another word, she walks away, leaving me alone with the wind knocked out of me.
The corners of my mouth turn down and my shoulders droop. Fuck. Once the people who loved me more than I could imagine get in their cars and drive away, I hunch over, grabbing my sides. The lump in my throat is back. My thoughts are scrambling. Which fire to extinguish first? I close my eyes, barely able to fight the tears threatening to fall. It's true, all I do is hurt people. When I dip my head, the dam breaks, and each tear falls onto my shirt, darkening the tan fabric. None of this was supposed to happen. How can I fix it? Or is this what I deserve, what the vaunted Sniper Kez deserves?
Somehow, I survive to the end of the rehearsal dinner. I'm not in the wedding, but months ago, Clara talked me into attending the rehearsal ceremony. She even made me promise, and despite our current issues, I keep my word. Not that my presence matters. Clara’s too busy avoiding me and catching up on the latest political gossip.
Suddenly, forty-five glasses rise into the air, followed by echoes of clinking sounds that make my eye twitch. They look genuinely happy. Eli and Charlotte. The thought stings, yet I’m grateful to see that beautiful smile again, even if it isn't for me. I watch them kiss for the sixth time, then decide I’ve had enough and make my way to the coat closet.
As I reach for my motorcycle helmet, the scent of jasmine and amber fills my nostrils as someone approaches from behind. A soft, but firm hand grips my elbow and leads me down the hallway. The sounds of people’s chatter fade into the distance. We turn a corner and Charlotte halts, facing me in the dimly lit stairwell, her expression unreadable. Her captivating perfume is as familiar as it is new.
"Why didn't you respond to my messages?" she demands.
I fold my arms over my chest and look at the ceiling. "You know why. I didn't want you exposed to that side of me. Sniper Kez. You didn't deserve that."
"That wasn't your decision to make." She steadies her ragged breathing and pulls me to sit on the steps with her. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? After months, I figured you didn't love me anymore. Or were dead."
I glance at the sizable diamond ring on her finger. Eli must make good money. "I just wanted you to be happy. I'm sorry."
"I was happy,” she retorts. “We would've worked through the distance."
A group of men’s laughter breaks the silence between us. I swallow. "I thought you'd prefer a private wedding, somewhere warm and quiet. You don't even like the city, or groups of people, let alone over three hundred."
Her chuckle lightens the mood slightly. "That's life when you're a politician's daughter. Nothing is what it seems."
That wasn't entirely true. My jaw tightens and my eyes find hers. "I can tell you love him. You look happy."
"Eli is an incredible person and, yes, I love him." Another long silence passes. She clears her throat. "I didn't mean what I said earlier. Dating you wasn't a mistake. When I saw you at the beach, I didn't know whether to kiss you until I couldn't breathe or punch your lights out."
"I thought we'd never touch again, so I'll take both." A slight smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. It’s enough to make her laugh.
She inches closer. I shift my entire body until we face each other. I speak the raw truth. "It's always been you. You taught me not only how to love someone else, but how to love myself. I adore all of you. Your kind heart. Your independence, warmth, sass. I can't imagine my life without you in it. Please don’t make me let you go. Do I have to? I will if you truly want me to."
More silence. Instead of answering my question, her fingers tenderly caress my arm, and she gazes into my soul. "You came back to me," she whispers, carefully assessing me.
Butterflies erupt in my stomach as she inspects every inch of my face, as if to ensure no harm had come to me. Using gentle strokes, she brushes my cheek, causing heat to rise, then combs her fingers through the coils of my hair. Her touch instantly relaxes every fiber of my body. "I like it short," she murmurs.
"I thought you would." I melt into her embrace, recalling our last moment in the airport. She’s the softest thing I've felt in almost two years. "I promised I'd come back to you."
"You're okay?" Charlotte asks gently.
With a weak smile, I nod. "No scratches." I know she isn't talking about only my physical body. She knows me too well, knows the pain that sometimes keeps me up at night. I cover her hand with mine. "A promise is a promise."
She thumbs my necklace, the custom dog tags she gave me before leaving. "You still have these?"
"They were my light through every dark tunnel while I was away. I cherish them."
"I still like the other necklace better." She gives me a knowing smile. A dangerous mixture of naughty innocence. Of course, she’d remember the vibrating wand necklace. Charlotte sighs, the battle in her mind apparent. "I'm getting married in less than two days. We're too late."
I’m not one to back down from a challenge. I chuckle. "Just give me the green light. My motorcycle will be out back if you need a getaway ride."
Mouth ajar, she punches my shoulder, failing to hold back a giggle. "Do I look like a runaway bride to you?"
"Won't know until you try."
We share a laugh, then pause as the air thickens in the silence. She raises her eyebrow. Then so do I. Would she run away with me?
"Kez, I love—"
"Babe, there you are!" Before Charlotte finishes her sentence, her fiancé approaches. He pulls her to her feet and pecks her lips, grinning as if he’s the happiest man on the planet. "We should see the guests out."
Eli fixes his eyes on me with that Ken-doll grin. “Kezzzzz,” he drags out my name, like a frat boy. “Welcome back. And thank you for your service.” He gives me an appreciative nod while his arms tighten around Charlotte’s waist. “Can't wait to catch up at the wedding. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
My nostrils flare. I want to tell him not to talk to me like we’re friends. We just met. But, remembering that Charlotte loves him, I offer a weak smile. “Sure thing.”
He shifts his attention back to his bride and exaggerates a kiss on her neck. My stomach drops when she giggles and I look away. I can’t watch what feels like kiss number one-hundred and seven.
“Let's get out of here, babe. I’m beat and ready for bed. Later Kez.” Eli takes her hand and they walk off toward the lobby. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m back on the beach. Powerless. I watch the love of my life walk away yet again. The aftermath of my decisions.
