Page 5 of Fighting for the Mountain Man

“No,” he said, then stepped back, taking a sip and setting his cup on the countertop. He ripped open three sugar packets and shook the contents of each into his coffee. “I like to be alone myself, but Jax takes it to a new level,” Bryce said. “He was a SEAL, you know.”

Eyes wide, I shook my head. “Impressive.”

“I guess he saw a lot of shit, but whatever he went through still seems to haunt him to this day,” Bryce said. “He doesn’t want all this attention. I’d bet my last dollar on that one.”

He tossed the empty sugar packets in the small trash can, where they joined my empty creamer cups, and turned to face me. He didn’t even bother putting a lid on—he just lifted the cup to his mouth and took a bunch of vigorous swallows.

“He sounds perfect for my friend Tess,” I said with a laugh. “She likes the quiet, brooding type of guys.”

“And you don’t see me as quiet and brooding?”

Was he offended by that? Maybe “bothered” was a better word.

I didn’t see quiet and brooding as a good thing, necessarily. In fact, the mopey guys who wore hoodies and never talked to anyone never really got my attention. I liked the friendly, approachable type.

“You seem pretty noisy to me,” I said, adding a smile to let him know I was teasing. Or did this count as flirting? “So what kind of work are you doing today? Do you need me to help?”

He stopped everything to stare at me, not moving for a long enough time that I started wondering if he’d kiss me. He didn’t have a look on his face that hinted he might do that, so it was probably wishful thinking on my part. But a girl could dream.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.

Oh, crap. He was asking about the “deflowering” comment I made earlier. I took a deep breath and prepared to address it directly.

“Maybe after the workday’s finished?” I asked. “I’m in room 108 at the retreat center. I think they’re doing a dinner for all the volunteers. We could do it after that.”

His expression didn’t change. It was completely neutral. That meant it was also unreadable.

“I’m talking about the bear claw,” he said. “But room 108. Noted.”

He tapped on his forehead, gave me a smile, then turned, carrying his cup of coffee out the door.

4

BRYCE

Room 108. Room 108. Room 108.

I’d repeated Sloane’s room number in my head all day. I hadn’t gotten her phone number, so it wasn’t like I could just call her to track her down.

The room number was my only hope of tracking her down. Well, that and dinner at the retreat center, but it became all too clear as the day wore on that there was no way I could make it over to the retreat center by six o’clock. Or 6:30. Or even seven. Which meant they’d be finished eating by the time I got there. By then, Sloane could very well have given up on me ever showing up.

“See you tomorrow, man,” one of our local volunteers called out as I headed toward the trailer. I’d left my car keys there at lunch.

I briefly worried the whole place might be locked up. If so, I’d have to call my boss to come let me in. But the door opened easily under my touch.

I smiled, remembering my interaction with Sloane just feet from the doorway I was stepping through. Thinking about her messed with my mind, though, because I swore I heard her voice in the seconds before the door completely shut.

No. Couldn’t be. I shook my head and started toward the smaller room to grab my belongings. But when I turned to leave, I came to a dead stop in the doorway to the main area.

I wasn’t alone. Sloane was standing there, wearing a short-sleeved pink dress blouse and black pants that showed off her curves.

This was a very vivid fantasy. It had to be. Sloane couldn’t possibly be standing in this trailer. She was back at the retreat center, enjoying a glass of wine and a juicy chicken breast with mushroom gravy.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she said.

That was when I noticed the object covered in foil in her left hand. Had she actually made a plate for me, covered it in foil, and driven it all the way here?

“We heard all the guys were working late, putting tarps on a house,” she said. “And you let most of the volunteers go to eat.”

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