Page 8 of The Mountain Man's Siren

My breath is coming out in little puffs of air as we climb higher. My mountain man doesn’t look like he’s even breaking a sweat despite the fact that he’s carrying the heavy sled. His legs are so much longer than mine that I bet he could make this trek in half the time, but he matches my pace instead of bolting ahead.

I adjust the scarf he loaned me. It smells like him, woodsy and masculine. I fight the urge to inhale deeper. “Well, um…” I’ve never told anyone about this dream but it’s not like I’ll ever see Owen again. The thought makes my heart feel unexpectedly heavy. “Documentaries about orphan diseases.”

“And those are?” He prompts, holding a low-hanging branch out of the way so it doesn’t dump snow down my back.

I give him a smile as I duck under his arm. I love the way he’s so thoughtful. “They’re rare diseases. Often, orphan diseases don’t receive proper funding, research, or attention from the medical community. That’s why they’re called orphans. It can take years to get a correct diagnosis and even then, few or no treatment options will exist.”

I pause when I spot a baby deer and its mama. They’re so beautiful together as they walk through this winter wonderland. I nudge Owen’s side. “You get to see this stuff every day?”

“Fuckin’ incredible, huh?” He says just as quietly.

We wait until the deer and her fawn wander away before we continue on the path toward the larger peak. The climb isn’t easy but with every step, the excitement and nervousness in my belly grows.

After we’ve walked in silence for a few minutes, Owen asks, “Is that what you have? An orphan disease?”

I nod. “My disease affects fewer than five thousand people worldwide. Outside of going to a conference or event specifically designed for patients with my condition, I’ll probably never meet someone like me in my lifetime.”

He squeezes my hand. “It adds to the feeling of loneliness.”

“That’s why I’m hoping to create documentaries. Maybe if I can get enough patients together, it’ll create awareness and give us a feeling of community too. It’s not just my illness I want to do that for. There are so many patients who suffer, feeling completely alienated because no one understands their unique experience.” I blow out a breath. “I’ve never really talked about all this with someone else. It’s kind of nice to have you listen.”

“I like listening to you,” he says softly.

I snort. “You don’t have to be polite. I know my babbling is annoying. Pretty much everyone has told me that at one point or another.”

He stops and I stop too. I scan the landscape, looking for another deer or an animal of some type but there’s nothing.

Finally, I glance up at him. He’s staring down at me, an intense look on his face. “I like you, Everly. Just the way you are. I like your babbling. I like your hair. I like the sound of your laughter and the way those freckles dot your nose but nowhere else on your face. I don’t give a damn what anyone else has told you. You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

I blink. He keeps pushing me away while saying nice things to me. “I think that’s the most words you’ve used since I arrived.”

He leans closer and for a second, I hope he’s going to kiss me. But instead, he sighs. His breath stirs the few strands of hair that have come loose from my ponytail. “We’re almost there.”

It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about the trek up the peak. “Yes, right. Very good. I like being almost there.”

The corner of his mouth tugs upward again. I love seeing this man smile. He always looks like he’s fighting it.

I fall back into step beside him. “So, what exactly do you do? We’ve covered what I do and what I want to do. It seems like it’s your turn to share. Is it carpentry? Your workshop was reallyneat.” Granted I didn’t spend much time in there. But what I did tells me that Owen is incredibly talented.

“I’ll show you after our ride.” He sets the sled down in the snow and surveys the peak. “What do you think?”

I grin. “The view was worth the climb.”

He holds the sled still while I climb onto the sled, squirming until I get comfortable. When I am, Owen joins me. He wraps his arms and those strong thighs around me. I fight the urge to trail my fingers along the inside of his thigh. Would he sigh if I did that? Would he beg me to go even higher? Would he let me cup his manhood?

Just the thought has a blush stealing up my cheeks. I’ve never wanted the things I want today. Being around Owen is awakening some part of me, a woman who’s eager to know what it’s like to be with a man in every way.

Owen leans close to me, the stubble on his face scratching at my warm cheek. “Ready for this? Three, two…”

I wait for that panicky feeling I had on the rollercoaster but safe in Owen’s arms, I don’t experience it. Instead, all I have is a quiet hum of contentment and the slow boiling of my blood.

When he says the word one, I lean back into him, and he shoves off. The wind hits my face as we descend the hill, the sled gaining momentum as we travel across the mountainous terrain.

I giggle and he tightens his hold. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun. As soon as I think the thought, I see the big tree trunk looming just ahead. I don’t even have time to register that we’ll crash before Owen is rolling both of us from the sled and into the snow-packed ground.

The two of us topple down the hill together. We finally stop with a jarring impact. Neither of us say anything for a long moment. His weight is over me, sheltering me. He took the brunt of the impact and pain flickers briefly across his face before he schools it. “Are you hurt?”

He’s in pain and his first thought is me. The idea makes my insides warm and cozy, like I just drank a cup of hot chocolate. “I’m good. How about you?”

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