Page 17 of Running to the Mountain Man

“It’s ridiculous, and I won’t allow it,” I say, and that’s my final word on the matter. “Now, it’s after midnight, and there’s no point in arguing anymore. I’m tired, and I’m going to bed. And don’t think about leaving because I sleep with one eye open.”

At the suggestion of sleep, Goldie lets out a catlike yawn. It’s attractive, the way she raises her arms over her head and pushes her tits out. Like she doesn’t have a clue about the effect she has on me.

I shuffle toward the bedroom and step over the busted door.

“Fine,” she says sleepily from the great room. “I’ll stay here, on the couch. It’s comfortable enough for me.”

“No way,” I say. “I gotta keep an eye on you. In my bed.”

I pick up the door and lean it against the wall in the corner. I’ll fix that in the morning.

“Excuse me?”

I head back to the doorway to find her kneeling on the sofa, looking confused.

“What?” I ask. “My bed was good enough for you a minute ago, but not anymore?”

Goldie is scandalized. “You weren’t in it a minute ago. I was alone. It’s not proper.”

I have a strong sense that we’re about to blur all sorts of definitions of what’s proper.

Fixing the mussed duvet, I tease her. “Come on, Goldie. The bed is huge. It’s so big that I promise I’ll stay all the way on this end, and you won’t even know I’m here.”

She steps into the room, crosses her arms, and looks at me skeptically. “Unless I try to leave.”

I nod. “Unless that. Yeah.”

Finally, she caves. “Fine. I’m too tired to argue too. But no funny business.”

I laugh as I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I don’t even know you!”

“Maybe not. But you’ve got a pretty impressive handgun there in your pack. Odds are in your favor.”

I slide under the blankets and rest my head against the pillows. It feels magnificent after the day I’ve had.

Goldie’s eyes widen, and her mouth gapes. “You went through my pack while I was in the kitchen.”

“Damn straight I did.”

She huffs, “You’re keeping me here because you think I shot Elder Trace.”

“I don’t think you did. I think you’re a scared little girl who’s on her own and needs to protect herself. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

Never mind that I’m already snuggled deep into the bed, lying on my favorite side, and my eyelids are extremely heavy.

As I drift off to sleep, Goldie hems and haws for a minute before finally getting into the bed. Her petite frame transmits a comfortable heat across the distance between us.

It’s true I need to keep my eye on her, to protect her from whoever lurks outside.

But the even more telling, unspoken truth is: it feels good to have someone on the other side of the bed.

It feels good that Goldie is here, filling a void.

Chapter Nine

Goldie

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