Page 26 of Mountain Man Officer

“Whatever you have,” I corrected myself.

He looked confused, but at the same time, a smile tugged at his lips. “Actually, I don’t have much. When I left Nashville, I sold everything.”

“Everything?”

“I have a television, a dresser, and my clothes,” he said, looking down at me. “I also have a bed.”

The way he said that last word, with eyes locked onto mine, sent a shiver through my core. Of course he has a bed, I told myself. He wasn’t going to sleep in mine. I had a nightmare vision of my cabin with nothing in the living room except a television. We would eat on the floor and ignore the splendor of the forest out the window. It was worse than when I had imagined a pool table and recliner, but I recognized instantly that it was utterly ridiculous.

“If you don’t have any furniture…” I began.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We should keep your furniture. You don’t have to put it into storage.”

My heart settled just a little bit, knowing I wouldn’t have to arrange for transportation of my stuff. More importantly, I would be able to keep the cabin just how I had arranged it.

“I don’t want a television,” I said.

He blinked, confused. “What?”

“I don’t want a television,” I said again.

“What do you do for fun after work?”

“I read or cook or enjoy the forest.”

He sighed, rubbing his neck. With his head cocked to one side and his chest on display, I couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like to run my fingers down his torso. That five-o’clock shadow would feel rough under my touch, scratching my lips if I were to kiss him. The fabric of his shirt looked crisp and would probably feel cool to the touch. Underneath that fabric, I could imagine that his chest would be hard, ridged with muscle. I longed to pull up his shirt and see for myself.

He was saying something, and I was completely missing it, fantasizing about undressing him. I had to get a grip.

“What?” I asked.

“What’s wrong with having a television?” he asked again.

“I just think it would be ugly,” I responded with less enthusiasm for the fight.

He looked down at me with those wild blue eyes and seemed to understand. “We can talk about it later.”

I swallowed. My eyes drifted lower on his body to the belt that held his pants up and the swell of muscular thighs beneath it. My thoughts lingered just long enough to imagine sliding my hand across his crotch. I would find a magnificent swollen package that would fill my palm, responding to my caress by growing even larger.

I looked back up and found him talking again. “I’m sorry?” I asked. A slow grin spread across his face as he guessed where my mind had been. I flattened my features, forcing myself to pay attention to the conversation. “You can put the television in your bedroom,” I snapped.

“Okay,” he agreed.

“And I think I should get a discount on rent because I’m supplying all the furniture.”

He opened his mouth to object, but no sound came out. I wondered what was going through his mind as he paused, eyes focused over my head. Finally, he looked back down at me. “Okay.”

I hadn’t been expecting that. My request for a reduction in the rent had been partly practical, but partly a ploy to drive attention away from my wandering eye. I didn’t think he would really agree. That was great. By paying less rent to Jason, I could save my money, and when another opportunity opened up, I could seize it.

“Your stuff is here?” I asked stupidly. Of course, his stuff was here.

“Yeah,” he said, looking around. “I dropped it off first thing when I got to town.”

“How did you know it would work out with your job?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t. But I was pretty set on moving here. If I didn’t get the job at the police station, I would have looked for employment somewhere else.”

“Would you have been a gas station attendant?” I asked, picturing him in oil-stained overalls. He looked hot no matter what he was wearing.

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