Page 25 of Mountain Man Officer

I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe you guys could hook up,” Ava gasped, as if discovering the answer to life’s problems.

“No.” I shook my head.

“Come on.” Ava put her hands down on mine. “Just imagine, you go to brush your teeth, and he’s accidentally in the shower.”

“Ava, I can’t.” I pulled my hand away. “He’s gonna be my landlord.”

“Technically,” Ava argued.

“I can’t sleep with my landlord.”

“Not even if he’s hot?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“Maybe he’ll give you a discount on rent.” Ava winked.

“No,” I reiterated, putting the matter to bed.

“Okay, if we’re not going to talk about you, can we talk about me?” Ava jumped up again to look in the mirror. “Does this dress say ‘casually dressed up for a night with friends’ or ‘desperate to reconnect’?”

I grinned. “It’s beautiful. You should wear it.”

She looked at me and sighed. “Cheer up. There are worse things than sharing your home with a handsome man.”

“I thought we were talking about you now.” I dodged the advice. There was no way I was going to cheer up thinking about Jason. He could take his rugged good looks and go back where he came from. I didn’t need him in my life, and I definitely didn’t need him in my home. I forced myself to focus on Ava and her upcoming dinner for as long as I could stand it. After more than an hour of watching her change clothes, I excused myself and went back to the cabin.

The living room was lovingly filled with my furniture. I remembered how long it had taken to get everything just right. The sofa and love seat were arranged specifically so I could sit in front of the fire or look out the window and enjoy a view of the trees while sipping my coffee. The spider plant had found its home in a twine hanger by the door. The coffee table and end tables added space for décor but weren’t intrusive or cluttered. I would probably have to move all of this to make way for his manly man furniture.

I shuddered. He was a single guy. This probably meant he’d place a recliner and maybe a dartboard or a pool table in here. Who knew what monstrosities he would want to stuff our cabin with? I was so upset, I didn’t even notice that I had subconsciously begun to think of it as “our cabin,” not “my cabin.”

I sighed. I had to face facts. Wishing that something would come along to magically turn events in my favor wasn’t going to work. He was moving in, and I had to get ready, which meant putting most of my stuff in storage.

There was only one storage place in town, and the owner was a client of mine. I decided to pay her a visit and see if I could get a discount. After work the next day, I drove the ten minutes out of town to the sprawling city of green-roofed storage sheds.

I climbed out of my car and felt a sinking in my stomach as I recognized the only other car in the parking lot. It was his. The door to the management office was open, and I could hear voices within. What was he doing here? Did he have things in storage? Was he following me? That last panicky question was absurd, I told myself. He had gotten here before me. He must have some business with the storage folks.

I heard the office door swing shut and looked over just in time to see Jason exiting the building. He jogged the two steps down to the ground, pulling out his car keys. He didn’t see me at first, focused on whatever it was he was thinking about. I saw him look up, register my car, and then scan the landscape until he found me.

“Hey,” he said casually as he came around the cars toward me.

I sucked in my breath and went to meet him. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to ask about storage prices,” I said. “For my things.” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve got a few things here,” he said.

“Okay, well, nice to see you.” I attempted to move past him toward the office.

“What specifically are you trying to put into storage?” he asked, blocking my way.

“All of it,” I said. “I have to find a place for my couch and love seat, my tables and lamps, everything.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I have to make space for your recliner.”

He frowned. “I don’t have a recliner.”

---