Page 4 of Protected By the Mountain Man

“Mariah?” Graham’s voice comes through the phone. “Will you let me do this for you?” I hear the pleading in his words, how worried my big brother is.

When Graham starts acting worried is when I know things are bad.

I look at Billy, who’s kicking his chubby legs as he eyeballs the crinkly toy in his equally chubby hands.

There’s one more thing my city has more of: dangerous assholes. I fell for the tricks of one of them like the fool that I am. And now I’ve put not only myself but my child in danger.

“Yeah,” I say at last, shoulders slumping. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

I’ll do anything, I add silently.Anything to keep my baby safe. Even go back to the town that I detest.

Graham doesn’t bother to hide his relief. “Thank goodness. Pack your bags. I’ll get you seats on the next flight out. Be ready.”

My stomach clenches. Suddenly, everything is so real — too real. Am I about to literally run for the hills?

Then I remember Ryan’s vise grip on my throat, and I’m on my feet. I hoist Billy, taking his toy with him, and head for the bedroom. There, I set him in his standing activity center and, grabbing an empty duffel from the back of my closet, start throwing fresh clothes and clean diapers into it as fast as I can.

If I was reluctant to leave a few minutes ago, the memory of my last encounter with my baby’s biological father has lit a fire under my ass.

I’m leaving for us. Me and Billy.

And because I’m suddenly terrified that if I don’t, Ryan might seriously hurt me to get to Billy — or worse.

I shudder as nightmares try to come to life in my mind.

Shaking my head as if I can clear my fears from it, I grab a second back and keep packing, moving even faster.

I won’t let that happen, to me or to my boy. I refuse to become another domestic violence statistic.

And if that means spending some time in my least favorite place on earth, then I’ll do it. Happily. That and more.

I’d said I’d doanything, and I’ve never meant anything more.

Ace

Istand in the center of my apartment, knotting my fingers together as I gaze around the place. I’m an avowed bachelor living in a studio apartment above my mechanic garage. My place is exactly what you might expect — thrifted furniture, bare walls, mismatched plates and silverware.

It’s not much, and certainly nothing fancy, but it’s always been good enough for a blue-collar guy like me.

But now I’m going to have a woman here. A mother, and her baby. And suddenly, the grease stains on the carpet just inside the front door and the scent of car oil permeating the place don’t seem right.

I’m not sure what I can do to fix it, though. Not at the last minute. So it’ll have to be enough.

Even though, judging by the pictures I’ve seen of the woman coming to live with me, this place is so much less than what she deserves.

I’m an older guy, nearing forty at an uncomfortably fast speed, so Graham and his sister didn’t run in the same circles as me. But there’s a chance I might’ve met Mariah before she left town. I’d looked her up on social media to check. And while I didn’t recognize her, her picture my stomach had filled with the sensation of flutters.

It’s filled with them right now as I think of her picture — a bright-eyed brunette with long hair, tanned skin, and the biggest, most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.

My fingers curl into fists of their own accord at the thought that anyone would ever dare to hurt her. Whatever else this guy who’s trying to get her and her kid might be, he’s surely a fool. Only a fool would give up a chance to be in this radiant woman’s life in a meaningful way.

If Mariah was mine, I’d treat her right.

Not that I have a chance in hell with her.

But if I did…I’d treat herright.

I sweep my gaze around the interior of my apartment again, and cringe. Even if I would treat this woman right, it’s likely she wouldn’t give me a shot. Not after living in this dump.

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