Page 25 of Entangled with a Mountain Man

I nod, grateful for his support. As we finish up our meal, the girls start fidgeting in their seats.

"Daddy," Harper tugs on my sleeve. "Can we go see Miss Steph at the shop? Please?"

I check my watch. We've got time before we need to head home. "All right," I concede. "But you hold hands until you get there. And stay put until I come and get you. Deal?"

"Yes, sir." They nod eagerly, already scrambling out of the booth.

I turn back to Axton.

"I'll reach out to the others and set up a meeting. Let you know when and where."

"Sounds good," he says, clapping me on the shoulder and leans in. "We've got your back, Ghost. Don't forget that."

I stand up, tossing a few bills on the table to cover our meal.

"Thanks, man. I'll be in touch."

He stands back and gives me a knowing look. "Say hi to Kenzie for me."

I won’t dignify that with a response. But as I turn to leave, I can't deny the little flutter in my stomach at the thought of seeing her again.

The walk to Steph's shop is nice with the lowering temperatures now that the summer is almost behind us. I slow my pace, giving myself a moment to think. But I keep my eyes peeled, half-expecting to spot Kenzie around every corner.

Ghost.

That’s what they called me in the Marines. It was a name earned in the shadows, a reminder of my ability to slip in and out unnoticed. Even now, the moniker seems to cling to my identity, a weight of expectations wrapped tightly around me.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts, focusing on the present. But that's what Specter expects.

He wants Ghost and my team. Because he knows once I accept, I'll deliver.

My thoughts shift to Kenzie. It’s been almost three weeks since she arrived in town, and I can't help but wonder how she’s faring.

Has she settled in? Is she finding her place in this community?

As I round the final bend, there it is—Steph's Consignment Shop, adorned with cheerful window displays and a weathered sign. I pause at the door, taking a deep breath.

Fuck, what is wrong with me. You'd think I've never seen a beautiful woman before. But Kenzie's beauty is a rare gem.

But as I push open the door, and the little bell jingles overhead, I stop just inside at the sight of her.

Kenzie stands in the middle of the shop, surrounded by piles of clothes, her figure framed by the soft light filtering through the windows.

Her curly hair is pulled up in a messy bun, a few stray tendrils cascading down to frame her face, softening the determined look in her hazel eyes. She’s wearing a fitted, cream-colored sweater that hugs her curves just right, highlighting the graceful lines of her body.

On either side of her, my girls are fully engaged, their little hands carefully folding shirts and placing them in neat stacks. The trio looks like a picture of domestic bliss, and the sight warms my chest in a way I’m not prepared for.

As I lean against the doorframe, I take a moment to really look at Kenzie. She’s focused on the task at hand, but there’s a spark in her movements—a quiet confidence that draws me in. The way she interacts with Hazel and Harper is fluid and natural, as if she’s always belonged there, in this moment, with my family.

Our eyes meet, and a jolt surges through me, igniting something deep within. It’s a raw, undeniable attraction, and I can feel its weight hanging in the air between us, electric and charged. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of us locked in time.

Her lips curve into a soft smile, and I return it, my heart racing at the warmth in her gaze. There’s a softness to her expression, a flicker of something deeper that I can’t quite put my finger on. The connection between us is growing—layered and complex.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to break the gaze, but the pull is persistent. It feels as if the distance between us shrinks with every second. Heat pools in my gut.

Kenzie bends down to pick up a shirt, her movements fluid, and I catch a glimpse of her figure in motion, every curve accentuated by the soft fabric. My breath catches, and I’m suddenly hyper-aware of the air around us, thick with lust.

“Hey, Dad!” Harper’s voice cuts through the haze, pulling me back to reality. “Look at what we’re doing!”

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