Page 11 of Fierce Mountain Man

“You’re not imposing,” he said. “Seriously.”

The strength in his voice told me he was dead serious. He didn’t mind me staying. Not only did he not mind—he wanted me to stay. And I loved being around him, so I didn’t want to leave.

That was what scared me, though. Was I already getting attached to him? What if, in the end, he made it clear he didn’t want a relationship? That the kiss last night had been a mistake? That he didn’t see me that way?

I would be devastated. Heartbroken. But I’d still have a place to stay for free until I figured out what I was going to do. How could I turn that down?

As I headed toward the table, a plate in each hand, I decided I was staying. If my heart was broken in the end, so be it. But I couldn’t walk away from here without knowing what I might have missed.

Tobias grabbed silverware and a roll of paper towels, then headed over to the table. I couldn’t help but smile. I’d workedhard on my presentation, and he plopped down a roll of paper towels. His silverware was pretty basic too. It looked like it had been with him a while. There were scratches, and the shine wasn’t quite as bright as it should have been.

I made a mental note to hook this guy up with some better silverware. Maybe I’d even help him by keeping the place clean and doing his laundry if he’d let me.

“So, how was your day?” I asked as we settled into our seats across from each other.

It was weird, sitting at his table, talking like we were an old—or, in this case,young—married couple. This was the sort of dinnertime dynamic I’d hoped for growing up. Only back then, I wanted to be the kid watching her madly-in-love parents talking about their day.

“Average,” he said. “This is the second-best part of my day.”

“What was the best?”

“This morning, eating that egg sandwich in my truck before I dropped you off at your car.”

He didn’t look at me as he said those words. It was a good thing he didn’t. I was pretty much melting at how romantic it all was.

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say anything, he slid a bite of chicken into his mouth and let out a groan. “Holy shit, that’s good,” he said around a mouthful of food. Then he covered his mouth and looked at me. “Sorry.”

That last part was intoned through closed lips, so it came out more like, “Mm-mph.” I didn’t mind, though. He had manners. He just liked my foodthatmuch.

I smiled. “I’m glad you like it. I guess I didn’t mention I also like to cook. That’s more of a hobby, though. I don’t want to make a career out of it.”

“So, are they going to help? The competition people?”

I wasn’t sure what he meant. He obviously got that from my expression, which was more than a little confused.

“The prize was fifty thousand dollars and help setting up a bakery,” he reminded me. “Since the competition was held here in Seduction Summit, and that’s where you want to start your bakery, that should make things easier, right?”

All my movements stopped as I took in his words. He was right. Somebody was supposed to be helping me get a bakery set up, but they just handed me a check and went on their way.

“I guess I should have gone to the dinner,” I said. “Maybe they wonder what happened to me. I don’t know.”

“Can you get in touch with them?”

I did have the host’s email. I could reach out to the other contestants, but I didn’t want to do that. The host would be the way to go. I didn’t want to suddenly be all friendly with people I had distanced myself from.

“If you need help getting in touch with anyone, let me know,” he said. “I’m sure I can reach out to someone who knows someone on the events team at the lodge.”

This guy was amazing in so many ways, but I doubted I’d take him up on his offer to help. It wasn’t my way to depend on anyone. If I had to go back to the lodge and ask around, I could. But I definitely wouldn’t be more trouble to him than I already had been.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You don’t like to ask for help, do you?”

I was in the process of slicing off another chunk of chicken, and I nearly dropped my fork and knife at that question. A series of responses went through my mind, each one aimed at denying the truth. But he’d already seen through that. That was why he’d mentioned it in the first place.

“I don’t,” I said. “I never ask for help. You have to be pretty self-reliant when you don’t have parents to rely on.”

Chewing quietly, he watched me. I waited to see pity in his eyes. It would come as soon as he processed the words I’d just spoken. But it didn’t come. Instead, he seemed to be studying me. Then he said something I definitely hadn’t expected.

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