Page 2 of Burning Mountains

"Niceweather we're having, huh?"

Andin that moment,Irealized that no matter how farI'drun, no matter how muchI'dtried to reinvent myself, deep downIwas still the same awkward, disasterI'dalways been.Butas the stranger's stoic expression cracked into a smile that could outshine the sun (if the sun ever decided to show its face in this godforsaken weather),Ithought that maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

2

AXEL

Iburst through the cabin door, the woman cradled against my chest, her slight frame quivering more than a chihuahua in a snowstorm.Thetempest's wrath howled behind us asIkicked the door shut, sealing us in the warm, wood-scented sanctuary of my man-cave.

"You'resafe now,"Igrowled, my voice rough.Havingher in my arms felt... right.Dangerouslyright.

Iset her down by the fireplace, my hands lingering a moment too long on her waist, as if magnetized by the sheer force of her beauty .Shelooked up at me, rainwater dripping from her lashes like she was auditioning for aL'Orealcommercial, and something primal stirred in my gut.Probablythat gas station burrito from earlier, butIchose to blame it on emotions.

"T-thank you," she stuttered, her teeth chattering. "Idon't know whatIwould've done if you hadn't shown up."

Igrunted in response, turning away to grab some towels and blankets.Icouldn't let myself get pulled in by those big, gratefuleyes.I'dlearned the hard way that caring only led to pain.Well, that and an empty wallet at the mall.

"Here,"Isaid, tossing her a fluffy towel. "Dryoff before you catch your death.Orworse, the common cold – ain't nobody got time for that."

Shecaught it with surprising dexterity. "You'revery kind," she murmured, wrapping the towel around her shoulders.

Isnorted. "Kind" wasn't a word most folks used to describe me.Gruff, standoffish, even dangerous – those were more common.Butsomething in the way she said it made my chest tight.

Ibusied myself with building up the fire, hyper-aware of her presence behind me.Thecrackle of the flames couldn't quite drown out the sound of her teeth chattering.

"Youshould get out of those wet clothes,"Isaid, not turning around, becauseI'ma gentleman.OrbecauseIwas afraid my eyeballs might pop out of my skull like a cartoon wolf. "I'vegot some spare things you can borrow.Bathroom'sdown the hall, first door on the left."

"Oh,Icouldn't possibly–"

"Youcan and you will,"Icut her off, my tone brooking no argument. "Hypothermia'sno joke up here.It'scolder than a witch's... well, you know."

Iheard her soft footsteps retreating, and only then didIallow myself to breathe.Whatthe hell was wrong with me?Shewas just another city slicker who'd gotten in over her head.I'dseen it a hundred times before.Sowhy did this feel so different?

Ishook my head, trying to clear it.Ineeded to focus on practical matters.Gether warm, get her car fixed, get her on her way.Thesooner she was gone, the better.Buteven asIthought it, a traitorous part of me hoped the storm would rage on like an toddler denied ice cream, keeping her here just a little longer.

Thebathroom door creaked open, andIsteeled myself before turning around.Nothingcould have prepared me for the sight ofZoedrowning in one of my flannel shirts, the hem hitting her mid-thigh.Herhair was damp and tousled, and her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the cabin.

Shelooked... perfect.Likea lumberjack's pinup fantasy come to life.

"I, um,Ihope this is okay," she said, tugging self-consciously at the shirt. "Everythingelse was huge on me.Ifeel likeI'mwearing a circus tent."

Iswallowed hard. "It'sfine,"Imanaged, my voice sounding strangled even to my own ears. "Comesit by the fire.Youneed to warm up."

Shepadded over, bare feet silent on the wooden floor, and settled onto the bearskin rug in front of the hearth.Thefirelight danced across her features, softening them, making her look almost ethereal.

Iforced myself to look away, busying myself with hanging her wet clothes near the fire to dry. "So,"Isaid gruffly, "what brings a city girl like you out to these parts?Getlost on your way toStarbucks?"

Shelaughed, a sound as clear and bright as a mountain stream, or a really well-tuned cowbell. "Isit that obvious?DoIhave 'I'venever seen a tree up close' tattooed on my forehead?"

Iraised an eyebrow at her, taking in the perfectly manicured nails and the designer label peeking out from her sodden jacket. "Let'sjust say you don't exactly blend in."

Shesighed, running a hand through her damp hair. "I'ma wedding planner," she explained. "Icame out here to scope outWindRiverMountainLodgeas a potential venue for destination weddings.Youknow, for couples who want to say 'Ido' while being eaten alive by mosquitoes."

"Weddings?"Icouldn't keep the skepticism out of my voice. "Uphere?"

Shenodded eagerly, her eyes lighting up like a kid onChristmasmorning. "Can'tyou just picture it?Themajestic mountains as a backdrop, wildflowers everywhere, the crisp mountain air...Itwould be magical.LikeaDisneymovie, but with more potential for bear attacks."

Igrunted noncommittally, butIfound myself captivated by the passion in her voice.Ithad been a long time sinceI'dseen someone so excited about anything.Exceptmaybe that timeIfound a buy-one-get-one-free deal on beef jerky.

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