Page 13 of Forever with the Mountain Man

“The whole beauty of your column is that we get to live vicariously through you and your experiences. So, you better enjoy the hell out of riding that…what is he again? A mountain man?”

“Yes, and a Basque shepherd, to be more specific.”

“Okay, that’s so not my thing. But damn, it sounds hotter than hell.”

“How do you think I feel?” I ask, fanning myself. “But the problem is I really, really need this promotion, and if I don’t return with the article McDuffey, my editor, wants, I won’t get a desk job at the paper.”

Callie presses her lips together, deep in thought. “Does your shepherd know about the article? Or that you’re visiting so that you can spill the tea about him?”

“He has no clue.”

“Why haven’t you told him?”

I shrug. “Because honestly, by the time things progressed this far, I talked myself out of writing the last piece altogether. I even came up with a whole new idea, pitching and writing it up. McDuffey didn’t bite, though. He wants me to stick to the original plan no matter what.”

“And you’re afraid this could hurt your chances with?—”

“Fierce.”

“Fierce?” Now, she fans herself. “This guy sounds too damn good to be true. Dang, Sis!”

“He is. But he’s also a very private and proud man. I can’t imagine him taking well to me writing about him and his family. Especially in a derisive way like McDuffey wants.”

“Of course, you may get over there and find out Fierce has been lying about all sorts of things. I hate to say this, but it wouldn’t be the first time online dating failed.” She frowns, biting her lower lip.

“I can’t imagine it. He’s been so forthright.”

She cocks her head to the side. “As far as you know, but?—”

“We FaceTime twice a day.”

She nods. “Do you text, too?”

“He hates texting.”

Callie frowns.

“What?” I ask, my stomach knotting.

“Remember that guy Darrell I dated on and off before the holidays?”

“The cheater guy. How could I forget?”

“He always insisted on us FaceTiming.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask.

She leans forward, whispering, “He didn’t want any evidence left behind. No matter how good you are about deleting texts, there’s always potential for a smoking gun. All it takes is one new, poorly timed text.”

Her words make my chest ache.

“And does he say he has to go to bed early at night? Say, nine or ten?”

“Eight.”

Her eyebrows shoot sky-high. “He’s cheating on you, then. Or he’s cheating with you on another woman.”

“How do you know that?”

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