Page 8 of Chiseled Mountain Man

“Another drink?” he asked.

I shook my head. I was halfway through this one. I should probably pace myself.

“I’ll grab you some water,” he said.

He didn’t wait for my answer. He just turned and went to the cabinet, grabbing a glass to fill with ice and water. I was surprised to see he poured the water from a bottle.

“I don’t need a glass,” I said too late. “You could have just brought the bottle. I’m not really fancy.”

He set the glass in front of me and shrugged. “I’m not used to company, if you can’t tell.”

He gestured toward the table, and I assumed he was indicating the plain white plates at each place setting. They weren’t much different than the flower-covered ones my roommate and I ate off of—when we cooked. In fact, he was definitely doing better than the two of us. Far better.

I was so busy looking at the place settings, I didn’t realize at first that we were standing awkwardly. He was waiting for me to make the first move, so I gripped the back of the chair and pulled it away from the table, then sat down. Only then did he finally sit.

“So, what do you do for fun?” I asked, eager to keep the conversation light.

We’d discussed some pretty heavy stuff over the course of the very short time we’d known each other, and I wanted to get to know him without bringing my petty life problems into it.

He gestured toward the wood carving near the door to his right. “That’s pretty much it. Every Saturday, I head over to Adairsville for supplies, and the rest of the time I either work or carve.”

I didn’t know how to ask my next question. I wanted to know so much more. Did he have friends? Did he talk to his neighbors? Did he hang out with his coworkers? What about his military brothers, as he called them? They’d all moved here to work. Wouldn’t it stand to reason they’d hang out?

But mostly, I wanted to ask if there were any women in his life. Seduction Summit was a small town, but the lodge was full of people.

Finally, I just blurted it out before I could lose my nerve. “You’ve never been married? No kids?”

He shook his head. “Nope. You?”

“Well, I’m twenty-three, so…”

I froze, fork and knife in hand. Nowthatsounded rude. He was clearly older, but not that much older. Mid-thirties, I was guessing. Someone at that age would typically have a story, wouldn’t they?

Maybe not. Maybe I was making a lot of assumptions.

“I gave my twenties to the military,” Sean said. “I just settled here a few years ago…”

Now he was the one who trailed off. Meanwhile, I slid my first bite of pork chop into my mouth and closed my eyes as a variety of flavors lit up my taste buds. Finally, I chewed and swallowed.

“Holy shit, that was good.” My eyes popped open, and I smiled. “I don’t even normally use that kind of language, but that’s the best piece of meat I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

The words were out before I’d really thought through what I was saying. They were completely innocent, but they didn’t sound so innocent.

I set down my fork with a loud clang, knife still in my left hand as heat rose to my face. I didn’t normally blush, but I was fair-complected enough that if I was turning even a slight shade of pink, it would probably show.

Sean stared at me a long moment, the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. “One of my best dishes. I also make a really good ribeye.”

“You’ll have to show me sometime,” I said.

Our eyes held at those words. They came with a lot of weight. I was basically saying I wanted him to cook dinner for me in the future, which meant we had a future. I could be talking as friends, though, right?

“Only if you bake me something,” he said. “I have a sweet tooth.”

“Sounds like we’ll make a good pair,” I said.

I’d done it again. Was it the brandy? No, I’d barely had enough to even feel the effects yet, and he hadn’t mixed it very strong.

This was something else. This was me feeling comfortable being open with him. I’d never had that with a man before, especially not one who also made me feel warm and tingly inside.

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