Page 3 of Made For Ruin

Twenty thousand for a new oven. And now I need to somehow change clothes before the morning rush. This day just keeps getting better.

Somehow, I manage to wring out my apron enough that it’s not dripping everywhere. The white fabric is still damp and clinging uncomfortably to my skin, but it’ll have to do for now. I twist my hair up into a messy bun and head back out to the dining room.

“Here you go, Joe.” I pour the steaming liquid into his mug, watching it swirl and settle. “Fresh and hot, just like you like it.”

“You’re an angel, Lainey.” Joe winks at me before taking a sip. Then he sighs contentedly. “Hits the spot every time.”

I’m just about to set the pot back down on the hot plate when the bell over the door chimes again. I glance up, expecting to see one of our regulars.

But it’s not any of the familiar faces I’m used to seeing this time of morning.

It’s Marcus Ruins.

Instantly, my heart stutters in my chest.

Marcus is the hottest mountain man in Cooper Heights. At 6’4”, he fills the diner’s doorway with pure muscle. His broad shoulders strain against his flannel shirt, and the rolled sleeves show off forearms thick with veins. The fabric stretches across his chest, and his powerful thighs flex beneath worn jeans. His dark hair is cut short and neat, silver threading his temples, and his trimmed beard accentuates the sharp angle of his jaw. Everything about him screams mountain man strength.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Joe calls out jovially as he sets down his newspaper. “About time you came back to civilization, Ruin. It’s been a while.”

Marcus nods. “Morning, Joe.” Then his gaze lands on me. “Morning, Lainey.”

“Morning Marcus,” I chirp, ignoring the way my pulse kicks up a notch at the sound of my name on his lips. “Doing okay this morning?”

He settles onto a stool at the counter. “Doing just fine.”

I slide him a menu. “Kitchen’s not quite up and running yet. But I can scrounge up some toast in a few minutes if you’re hungry.”

“No thanks.” His amber eyes track a water droplet running down my neck before they flick back up to meet mine. “Just coffee for now.”

I swallow hard.

“Sure thing. I’ll grab a mug.”

Then I quickly turn away, grateful for the excuse to escape into the kitchen.

I’ve had a crush on Marcus since the day he moved to town five years ago. I took one look at his rugged, handsome face and I nearly forgot how to breathe.

Marcus is a real mountain man. Not one of those weekend warrior types who only pretend to rough it before retreating to their cushy cabins with all the modern amenities. He lives off the grid in a log cabin he built himself, deep in the heart of the mountains about twenty minutes outside of town.

I know it’s silly to be so turned on by the fact that Marcus can split a tree in half with his bare hands. But I can’t help it.There’s just something about him that makes me feel safe and protected. Like he could shield me from anything.

Sometimes, late at night, I imagine what it would be like to be held in those strong arms of his. To have his calloused hands skim over my skin, tracing every curve and hollow.

Which is ridiculous because Marcus is the last man I should feel anything about. He’s more than twenty years older than me.

I also used to date his son, Axel.

When I emerge from the kitchen, I’m surprised to see that Marcus is no longer sitting at the counter. Instead, he’s moved to a booth by the window, his large frame taking up nearly the entire bench seat.

I set the mug down in front of him and start to pour. “I see you decided to upgrade to a booth.”

“Counter gets uncomfortable after a while.” He shifts slightly, as if demonstrating how the small counter stools don’t quite accommodate his size. “Booth’s better.”

“Of course.” I try not to think about the solid muscle that lies beneath that flannel shirt. “More room to spread out too.”

He just nods, attention already turning to the steaming mug in front of him.

“Well,” I finish pouring his coffee and set the pot down on the table. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

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