Page 21 of Rescued By the Mountain Man

“I think I’d prefer the coffee last,” I replied as he drove off.

He turned down a street I couldn’t get the name of, even though I’d stared at the sign. God, I was frazzled. “I’m going back to the ranch tonight. Do you want to come or stay in the inn?”

“What? No, I don’t want to stay in the inn when I can go to see your ranch again,” I almost spluttered. “I want to come.”

“Okay,” he nodded and squinted at the lane across from us. He turned down the lane, and we stopped at a known cellphone provider.

Leaving the car, I tried to stifle the urge to look over my shoulder, but I couldn’t stop the reaction and twisted my neck—and then I fucking tripped. I expected a hard smack on the floor, with stars shooting through my vision and blood?—

But two hands grabbed me while my head was still ready for the slam. When it didn’t happen, I realized my nose was buried in the crook of his neck. The one thing that hit me was that he smelled of musk, salt, leather and pine. Of a masculinity that twisted my gut in two.

“Whoa, whoa, there,” Warrick said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah—” I said, swallowing another lump of shame to add to the mountain already on my chest. “—I’m okay. Just clumsy.”

Ignoring the tremors wreaking havoc on my common sense, I glanced up. His expression was calm as he set me back on my feet.

I felt two inches tall as we headed into the store and began to look over the selection. I wanted something serviceable but not too expensive. I didn’t need something that could get easily hacked, which meant an iPhone, Google phone, or a Blackberry. It was outdated, but I had to be careful.

A bubbly girl met us. “Hi, can I help you with something, sir? You know it's that season when all the missus want their new upgrade.”

My jaw met the floor.

Did this girl think I was his wife?

“N-no, no—” I spluttered, waving my hands like a windmill. “—I’m not his?—”

“Oh, come on, darling,” Warrick stopped me. “We’re not dating anymore. I know you forgot your ring, but stop joking.”

She huffed. “Now you have a funny bone.”

For once in my life—or possibly his—he laughed, a low husky tone that washed over me like warmed honey. Finally, he turned to the girl, “She’s right. I am sorry, we’re not married. Forgive me, I’m just joking.”

“You’re being a jackass,” I huffed. “I need something solid, not too fancy, not too expensive. I don’t need the latest model, just functional email, notes, and web browser.”

“We have a good selection,” the girl led us to a row, and I sorted through the choices, reading the specs and finally chose a budget for a hundred and ten bucks, its twelve-dollar case and a thirty-dollar monthly plan.

“That comes to one hundred fifty-two dollars and eighty-nine cents,” the girl said while packing the items.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I stopped her.

“I’m sorry,” she gave me a reluctant smile. “It’s store policy.”

I reached for my wallet when a silver card was slid over the glass top. Both our eyes, hers and mine, flew to Warrick, who looked nonplussed. “Please, it’s on me.”

“Warrick, you don’t have to?—”

“I know I don’t,” he nudged the card further. “I want to, please.”

With a last look at me, the girl took the card and tapped it, then reached for the printing receipt. She handed it to him to sign and then slid the package to me. “Thank you and have a good day.”

Still stunned into silence, I took the bag, headed to the truck, and climbed in. Dropping the bag to my lap, I buckled in and stayed quiet as he drove off. I had no words to say until we arrived at the coffee place. This time, I shifted. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged. “Call it an expense. You’re my PA, and you need to have the tools to do your job, and that is on me to furnish. Don’t worry; it won’t cause havoc with our bottom line.”

“Thank you, though,” I replied, while pulling the cell out and booting it up. I dropped in a few numbers, the most important being my FBI handler, and saved it under the name Local Pizza Place. “What’s your cell?”

He gave me a string of numbers that I punched in as he parked at the curb for the coffee place.

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