Page 22 of Protected By the Mountain Man

“Where is he now?” My voice came out sharper than I intended.

“Outside. Barn duty,” Livy shrugged.

No way.

Without another word, I moved toward the door, then slid into my flip-flops. I pushed the screen door open and stepped out onto the porch, the cool morning air brushing against my skin.

The sun had barely risen, but I was sure of it—Gabe was in my barn, working on my property, with my horses.

What the hell?

I saw him as I walked toward the barn, stepping out to toss some stuff in the trash. He paused at the dumpster, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He was wearing another set of Ben's old clothes that hugged his muscles in all the right places, and damn it, he looked good—too good.

The past ten years had been real good to him.

For a second, I was entranced, caught off guard by the sight of him looking like he belonged…and like a damn snack. But then my mind kicked back into gear, and my fists clenched at my sides.

I could see it now…he was going to muck out all the stalls, then ask for money. Just another person out to play nice guy only to cash in on my desperation.

No way was I letting that happen.

I picked up my pace, rounding the corner of the barn with the intention of giving him a piece of my mind.

But as fate would have it, just as I stormed around the corner, I bumped smack into his solid chest.

There was a flustered pause, and I became hyper-aware of his scent—sweat mixed with fresh hay. It was earthy and real, a stark contrast to the cologne-drenched men I'd left behind in California.

I tried to ignore the tingling sensation his smell induced, but it was like trying to ignore a wildfire.

And damn if it didn't make me feel alive in ways I'd been missing.

“Whoa there, Kat,” he grunted, steadying me with his hands on my shoulders.

“Sorry,” I muttered, stepping back and trying to ignore the heat spreading through me where he touched. “Didn't see you there.”

“Clearly,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. “You always charge around blind corners at full speed?”

“Only when I think someone's about to con me,” I replied, hands finding their way to my hips.

“Con you?” He frowned. “Uh…I don’t know how cleaning out the barn counts as conning you?—”

“Let's cut to the chase, Gabe. What do you want? Money?” My voice was hard, my gaze fixed on his. “You know I can’t pay you.”

He shook his head, a small chuckle breaking through his stern exterior. “No need.”

I gaped at him. “What do you mean, no need?”

“Exactly what I said,” Gabe replied, wiping his hands on the sides of his jeans. “You don't have to pay me. I've got this one.”

I scoffed. “Why would you do that?”

“Because…” He paused. “My dad is loaded, remember? I can afford to help out a neighbor in need, and you need help. Your ranch is struggling. It's logical.”

“I…are you being serious?”

“Yup. You need help, I can give help. Simple as that.”

I wanted to protest, to argue that there had to be some catch. But the hard truth was staring me in the face—I needed the help. The ranch was hanging by a thread, and my pride wasn't going to save it.

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