Page 8 of Saved By the Mountain Man

Am I too ashamed to admit that no one has ever cooked breakfast for me before? Yes. Yes, I am. I’m usually serving the eggs, not eating them.

“Scrambled it is.”

He cracks an egg into a mixing bowl, and I can’t help but smile. Warmth floods my body, watching him move so gracefully for such a big guy. He grabs a knife and starts slicing some bread. My eyes drop to his big hands, wondering how they would feel against my skin. His roughness against my soft edges – a perfect match?

Jack continues cooking and offers me some fresh berries.

“I picked them this morning while you were sleeping,” he tells me, slicing some strawberries in half.

“You have a garden?”

He nods. “Just a small one. Big enough to grow my fresh food and a bit extra for the chickens.”

I bite into the strawberry and a burst of freshness coats my tongue. It’s the sweetest strawberry I’ve ever tasted.

“You have chickens?”

Jack brings the steaming hot pan over to the plates laid out on the bench. With his sleeves rolled up, I can see the veins running up his forearm, sliding underneath a tattoo that’s peeking out from beneath the sleeve.

I squeeze my legs together, attempting to stop the heat burning my thighs.

“Yeah,” Jack continues, scooping bright yellow eggs on the plate. “Five girls. And a big boy to keep them in line.”

He winks at me, and I swear it hits me right between the legs. Fuck. Our eyes meet for a tiny moment, but it’s all I need to know I want this man. I thought it last night, but now my skin is tingling just being this close to him. I want him so fucking bad.

Jack eventually sits down beside me. He’s assembled a feast of eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, all accompanied by golden buttery toast. It’s an assortment of color and flavor like I’ve never seen before.

Sitting at the counter, I’m looking through a window with the most spectacular view ever. How the hell did I end up here?

“Jack, this is incredible. Thank you.”

He crunches a slice of toast and shrugs. “Anything for my special guest.”

“Did you sleep okay?” I ask, swiveling around to see a blanket on the floor by the fire. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep on the floor.”

“It’s ok, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Jack shrugs. “Believe me, I’ve slept in far worse places.”

“Thank you. Really.”

He gives a lopsided smile and shrugs those enormous, round shoulders. “Plus, you had a rough ride up here. It was the least I could do.”

“You’re too sweet,” I say shyly.

I smile at his kindness. It’s a change from the grumpy, gun-wielding man who greeted me yesterday.

“I hope you don’t mind, but when I was checking myself in the mirror this morning, I found this.” I tap the photo album and watch as Jack’s eyes widen. “I haven’t looked inside. I didn’t want you to think I was snooping.”

He gulps down a mouthful of coffee.

“I haven’t looked at that in years,” he admits, his deep voice rumbling.

“Are they photos from the military?” I ask and Jack nods.

“Are there-”

“Photos of your father?”

I nod.

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