Page 16 of Mountain Man Bad Boy

Mike sat back down, taking a swig off the cup in his hand. He winced.

“It’s bad,” I said.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I don’t know if you could call it coffee.”

“They call it coffee,” I countered, “but I don’t know if it is.”

Mike laughed. “Tammy’s fine.”

“How’s the lumberyard? Have you been by?” I wondered, eager for any information about the outside world.

“I haven’t been back,” he admitted. “But I’m sure they’re doing fine. How are you doing?”

“Thirteen days clean and sober,” I answered.

“That’s great.”

I shook my head.

“It is great,” he insisted. “You have to give yourself time and celebrate each small victory.”

We caught up for the hour that was allotted. At the end of the visit, Mike stood, reaching out for my hand. I allowed him to pull me into another hug.

“Thanks for coming,” I said.

“You’ll be home before you know it,” Mike said.

“Listen.” I stepped back, rubbing the base of my skull. “I’m sorry for the time you spent in prison.”

“Hey.” Mike stopped me right there with a wave of his hand. “We’re even. Remember?”

“Yeah, but—” I tried.

“But nothing.” He refused to allow me to apologize. “Without you, who knows what would have happened to Tammy.”

“Without me, you wouldn’t have been in that situation to begin with,” I argued.

Mike opened his mouth to contradict me but then closed it. “That’s true.”

“So, I’m sorry.” I wondered why I had dug this hole for myself.

“Forgiven.” Mike smiled, shaking the whole argument off.

Brad came over to break up our reunion. “Time’s up.”

“See you soon,” Mike promised.

We parted ways with a friendly shake. I looked around the room for Gina and found her at the nurses’ station. I smiled, and she smiled back. Whatever else was between us, she cared about me. However many other patients she had or whether this was all just a job for her, the truth was that she cared. That meant a lot more to me than even Mike’s visit.

8

GINA

Ilooked for Porter everywhere, if I was being honest with myself. I scanned the common areas every time I walked by, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. The image of him on the floor, doing some kind of exaggerated push-up, was seared into my mind. I had known he was strong, but that demonstration had been more than what I was expecting. I wanted a man who was that strong, and someone who had Porter’s good looks would be nice. Of course, I couldn’t date Porter. He was off-limits. And it was foolish for me to get involved with someone with a history of drug use, no matter how attractive.

I realized that I was lonely. That had to be it. It had been years since my last serious relationship, and I was craving attention. I debated asking Cindy to set me up with someone. She knew everyone in Nashville, it seemed, and had no trouble finding guys to spend her time with. But all of Cindy’s men were in the same category, meaning they were just looking for a good time. I was lonely but not desperate. I wasn’t interested in a one-night stand or a tryst in a nightclub bathroom.

Cindy found me staring at the break room wall, theoretically eating a sandwich but making no progress. She sat down beside me. “You seem glum.”

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