Page 15 of Kissing the Wrong Mountain Man

This is a world away from my usual routine. I used to love the thrill of living a fast-paced, jet-setting life. But it hasn't been hitting the same way for a while now, and with impending motherhood, it's making me question how sustainable that sort of lifestyle is. Do I want to be carting my kid around on planes from city to city with no base?

No, I definitely do not. Which means I need to figure out what I do want. Slightly tricky since I currently have no idea.

I reopen my eyes and find Brock looking at me. He hastily glances away. I don't, content to study his handsome face for a moment. Dappled sunlight bathes his olive skin in a beautiful glow, his beard appears silky and is well-groomed despite being long, and his eyelashes are nothing short of mesmerizing.

"Something doesn't add up," I eventually say.

He turns slowly to face me again. "Like what?"

"You mentioned your grandfather died last year, so you've known about your inheritance clause for a while."

"I have."

"I assume you had a time limit."

"I did. Had two weeks left to find a wife when we met."

"Why did you put off finding a wife for so long?"

He lifts his arms out of the water, hooking them wide on each side against the natural rock formations, his large muscles glistening. "I guess I just wasn't in the right headspace to deal with it."

"Oh." He's given me the perfect opening to ask more, but despite things going well, I'm still testing the waters and don't feel like we're there.Yet. "Follow up question…if it's permitted?"

He nods. "Go on."

"So, I take it, no current girlfriend?"

"Correct."

"And previously?"

"I've had a few."

"Care to elaborate?"

He gives a small shrug. "Not much to say. Nothing too serious."

"Have you ever been in love?"

His brown eyes meet mine, darkening for a split second before answering. "No."

"Who ended things? You or them?"

"Sometimes me, usually them." He finds a loose pebble and rolls it absently between his fingers. "I'm not very…emotionally available."

"In what way?"

He cranes his neck and stares up at the sky. Okay, maybe I've reached his limit. I'm about to tell him he doesn't have to answer when he starts to speak.

"I don't find it easy to open up. I'm quiet. Guarded, even. Women don't seem to like that, which is fair enough."

You seem pretty open to me.

The words dance on the tip of my tongue, but I bite them back. I don't want to make Brock any more uncomfortable…or deal with the other implication of why he may be more open around me.

Is it because he likes me?

No, that's silly. I'm pregnant with another man's child, my life is a mess, and I've taken over his dining nook during the day and lay sprawled out on his sofa while I talk at him in the evenings. What part of that could he possibly find appealing?

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