Page 19 of Rescued By the Mountain Man

“It’s not pretty, is it?” Gregory Treeve, the mayor, said as he strode to me, the tops of his blue jeans wet with runoff. “But we can work with this.”

“We’ve got a few days to let this dry out,” I said, looking around. “But the best thing is no damage.”

“Excuse me,” Zara said, her eyes shifting between us. “I am sorry to interrupt, but a few of the vendors who moved some produce here are wondering what their next move is going to be.”

“Christ on a cracker,” Gregory rubbed his face. “I’ll go talk to them.”

“Before you go, mayor,” I nodded to Zara, “Zara Harrington is my new PA. Miss Harrington, the mayor of Silver Ridge, Mr Gregory Treeve.”

Sticking out a hand, he said, “Pleased to meet you. I hope you can keep up with this guy here. He is a surly one.”

She gave a slight smile. “I’ll do my best, Sir.”

For the first time since we got up, I took a good look at her; there were dark circles under her eyes, but she didn’t look too worse for wear. I was starkly aware that I had fucked up twice with her, and the almost kiss last night was probably souring her impression of me that much more.

Another thing I had to apologize for.

I was not ticking off the boxes on this boss card, was I?

“I guess this pushes our timeline in the town back a couple of days,” she said, while smoothing her hair from her face.

“It does,” I held back a sigh. “But the good thing is nothing was too destroyed. We can work with this…” I eyed her. “…as for last night, I?—”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” she said, giving me a side-eye. “Any of it.”

“Noted,” I replied. “Well, let’s do what we came here for.”

An hour and about forty minutes later, we were done with the round, and I was thankfully heading back to the truck. Hopping inside, I paused, the skin at the back of my neck pricking with unwanted tension.

I needed a way to get this tension away for good.

It was like a revolving door. It would come, then pass for a couple of hours, and then spring back up all over again. “Remember when I said I was heading to Helena? I am going now. Do you want to come with me and get that cell you so dearly need?”

She looked up, her gaze guarded. “Um, sure. Thank you.”

“Hop in then,” I nodded.

The normal ten-minute drive to Helena was stretched into fifteen because I was paranoid about the water on the road and driving us into a ditch.

Silence. It was thick and loaded with tension.

“Are you enjoying Silver Ridge?” I finally asked.

Pushing a few dark strands behind her ear, Zara looked out the window. “It's okay, I suppose. I haven’t seen much of it yet, to be honest. I suppose it would be different for someone living here all their lives.”

“Most of it, yes,” I replied. “I suppose small-town living and small-town country living can't compare with the big-city hustle, huh?"

“I’d agree, if you're old."

Oddly, I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing. “That I am.”

“Oh please,” she scoffed, teasing. “You’re what, forty-one going on seventy?”

“I’m thirty-four, whippersnapper,” I mumbled. “I’m hardly over the hill.”

“Huh, you don’t look like it,” she said.

“Your cushy city life has softened you.”

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