Page 6 of One Night with a Mountain Man

"And get this," he says, moving closer and lowering his voice like he's about to share state secrets, "they're looking for full-time security detail. High profile stuff. We'll have to hire to cover it. I'll need your help for that. Your instincts are always spot on."

Great, just what we need—more high-maintenance clients with more high-risk problems. But I'm able to push those worries aside because I know that a big high risk client with big problems means more money—for the firm and for me personally. "Whatever you need, Blaze. You know you can count on me to do what you need."

Mitch is oblivious to my lack of enthusiasm as he rattles on about potential contracts and NDAs thicker than a cowboy ribeye at The Mountaineer Steak House.

"Blaze," I interrupt finally, "I've got to get this research done." My tone is firmer than I intend it to be.

He raises his hands in mock surrender but doesn't budge from his spot by the door. "Alright, alright—I'll leave you to it." But there's a twinkle in his eye that tells me he's not quite done yet.

Mitch is just standing there, his gaze fixed on me, and I realize I've completely zoned out. His words have been buzzing around my head like flies at a picnic, but I haven't caught a single one. I've been thinking about Natalie—the way her hair fell over her face, the softness of her laughter, how she up and left without a word before I woke up.

"What's going on with you, Hanley?" Mitch's voice breaks through my thoughts.

I blink, my mind scrambling for a foothold in the present. "I met someone," I blurt out because it's all I can think about.

His eyebrows shoot up, and that signature Mitch Blaze smile spreads across his face. "It's about time."

I run a hand through my hair, the weight of the morning pressing down on me. "She left though," I say. "She walked away without even leaving a note."

Mitch's smile falters. "Sorry to hear that," he says, scratching his stubble. "Wish I could help but I'm no good with women."

I lean back in my chair, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. "I think... I might have… Um, there's a chance I told her I love her."

His jaw drops; he stares at me like I've grown a second head. Shaking his head, he lets out a low whistle. "Man, that was a bad move."

"Why?" My voice rises in frustration. "Why is it bad to tell the truth?"

"You probably scared her off," he says with a shrug. "When did you meet her?"

"Yesterday at the Sweat Shop."

Blaze lets out a whistle. "Yesterday? Wow. Yep. You scared her off for sure. Easy come, easy go, dude."

That thought had already crossed my mind—a few dozen times since sunrise—but hearing it from someone else makes it more real. My chest tightens, and this office feels too small.

Without another word, I push back from my desk and stand up. Mitch steps aside as I stride past him, needing air, needing space—needing to find some kind of answer that isn't staring back at me from the empty walls of this room.

Six

Natalie

I'm pacing the living room, phone pressed to my ear, the warmth of embarrassment creep up my neck. "Jackie, I'm mortified. You know I'm not the kind of girl who does this sort of thing."

A sigh comes through the speaker. "Natalie, slow down. Tell me what happened."

"Okay, so I was filling in for another trainer at the gym yesterday, right? A client I’ve never seen in there before. Tall, broad shoulders, smile that could light up a room." I press a hand against my forehead, trying to soothe the pounding regret. "We hit it off—like really hit it off. Conversation flows like we've known each other for years."

"And?"

"And... we ended up back at his place." The words were sour on my tongue. "Less than 24 hours after we met, Jackie. Who does that? This is the first one night stand I've ever had. Even in college I never did that when everybody else was bed hopping."

"I know you didn't. I know that's not you." Jackie's voice is a calm in my storm of self-reproach. "But people do that all the time."

"But it's not me!" My voice spikes with frustration as I collapse onto the couch, the cushion accepting my defeat more than I can accept myself in this moment.

I hear Jackie take a breath as if she's about to lay down some hard truths. "Okay, but you did it this time. You can't change it now. Was he at least nice?"

"Nice? He was... damn amazing." I confess, a small smile betraying my turmoil as I remember his touch. How absolutely full and satisfied when he was inside me. "Handsome doesn't even begin to cover it, and he was so interesting. We talked about everything—art, music, travel—and when he looked at me it felt like destiny or some silly shit like that. You know I don't believe in destiny—or at least I never have before." My heart flutters despite my brain's stern disapproval.

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