Page 6 of Protected By the Mountain Man

“I’ve got you all set up,” he says after he releases me from a tight hug and commandeers my duffel bags. I try not to sigh with relief too loudly.

“Thanks for doing that,” I say, trying not to let my breathlessness leak into my voice. I’m not sure that I’m very successful.

“Well…” Graham slides me a sidelong glance that sets my spidey senses tingling.

I frown. “What? Please don’t tell me there’s something worse than having to go back to living with our parents as a single mom.”

He sucks in a breath like he’s getting ready to dive headfirst into the deep end of a swimming pool. “The good news is that you’re not staying with our parents.”

Momentary celebration blossoms behind my breastbone before my brain processes with my brother’s saying. “Then…I’m staying with you?” I ask.

“Not exactly.” Graham winces, and my throat clenches because that’s not a good sign.

I stop in the middle of the airport’s exit doorway, not caring that I cause a couple of travelers to bump into me and mutter epithets under their breath as they divert around me.

“Graham,” I say, his name a complete sentence. “Where am I staying?”

“The safest place I could imagine,” he says like it’s some kind of reassurance.

“Graham,” I say one more, unsure if I’m about to burst into tears or an angry rant. “What did you do?”

He winces again.

But then he squares his shoulders, lifts his chin, and meets my gaze, making my jaw dangle with his seriousness.

“The best I could, Mariah,” he says, voice trembling with emotion.

And just like that, I can’t be mad at my brother.

I can’t even be scared anymore.

All I can do is set the lock on the stroller so it doesn’t roll away, then wrap my brother in a big bear hug, pressing my cheek to his chest, hearing his heart trip over itself.

“Thank you,” I murmur, words suddenly raspy with emotion. I bite my trembling lip, willing back the tears suddenly welling in my eyes.

After a moment, Graham returns the hug, holding me close. “I know,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my head with brotherly love. “I know.”

I soften into his embrace.

“But,” he says, the single syllable brimming with reluctance, “you might not like it.”

I stiffen, and after the momentary reprieve, it feels so much worse. I step away, feeling my own eyes harden as I search my brother’s face.

“Explain,” I growl in a voice that even I don’t recognize.

Ace

She’s mad.

The text from Graham comes through when I’m smoothing the clean sheets on the single bed in my place, having just made it up fresh for my incoming guest.

Mad?I write back, frowning at my phone as I tap its screen with permanently grease-stained fingers.

At the whole situation, Graham writes back. Then, a moment later, he continues,It’s possible that I didn’t tell herexactlywhere she’d be staying. I thought it would make her change her mind.

I sigh, not bothering to write back.

What can I say? I’m just here to provide a safe space for an at-risk mom and her kid, no matter what my feelings are after looking her up on social media.

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