Page 8 of Her Mountain Man Recluse

“Oh. I’m sorry.” I cross my legs, relieved as the pain slowly melts from Ridge’s face. “Does it happen often? The arm pain?”

He nods solemnly. “It’s my shoulder, but it radiates. Gets worse in winter.”

“How were you injured?” I ask, unable to hide my curiosity. “If you don’t mind telling me.”

I know so little about the man I’m sharing this cabin with, and I’m desperate to learn more, but he doesn’t answer right away. He adds a couple of bread rolls to the skewer over the fire, the orange glow illuminating his lined face.

“It happened in Iraq,” he says eventually. “Took a bullet to the shoulder. It’s still in there—too close to an artery for them to dig it out.”

My eyes widen, shock hitting me square in the face. “Oh, God, that’s awful.”

“Long time ago now.”

“Still. I can’t even imagine…” I taper off, unable to find the words. “Are you still in the military?”

“I retired five years ago. Served for twenty-two years.”

“Wow,” I say, letting out a breath, “that’s as long as I’ve been alive!”

“Well, shit. Way to make me feel old.”

I chuckle, thanking him as he pulls a bread roll and sausage from the skewer and sets it on my plate.

“Seriously though,” I say as I sandwich everything together, smothering it with ketchup, “it can’t have been easy to leave after all that time. Do you miss it?”

“No.” His answer is quick and decisive. “But you’re right, leaving wasn’t easy. I never really got the hang of civilian life. That’s why I keep to myself these days.”

“The mountains must be a good place for that.”

He nods, and we lapse into a comfortable silence as we eat our breakfast.

“This is really good,” I say eventually. “Thank you.”

“Glad you like it.”

The sandwich is delicious, the sausages juicy and flavorful, but I feel a twinge of self-consciousness as I tuck in. Instinctively, I try to turn my body so Ridge can’t see me eating. After everything that happened with the video, I’m hyper-aware of how I look, and I take small bites, trying to eat delicately.

I wipe my mouth and set my sandwich down, a familiar shame washing over me. “I probably shouldn’t be eating this much for breakfast.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ridge looking at me. “Why? Not hungry?”

“I’m on a diet. Weight loss is one of my many New Year’s resolutions.” I force a smile and hold out my plate. “Do you want the rest?”

I can feel those deep blue eyes lingering on me, but I don’t look at him. His hand reaches for my plate, but instead of taking it, he pushes it back toward me.

“You don’t need to diet.” The firmness in his growly voice catches me off guard.

“Um…well, I?—”

“Seriously, Lila. You’re fine as you are. Hell, more than fine…you’re beautiful.”

I can feel my cheeks burning like red-hot coals as I meet his gaze. He’s scowling, almost like he’s daring me to contradict him, and I feel a swirl of butterflies in my tummy as I say, “Thanks, Ridge.”

He shrugs. “No need to thank me. It’s just the truth.”

I struggle to suppress a grin, giddiness thrumming through me as I finish my sandwich.

More than fine.

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