Page 4 of Guardian of Misty Mountain

“Of mice and men,” he says, finishing Steinbeck the quote. “Why?”

He still won’t look me in the eye, but I don’t think he’s trying to be cold. I realize he’s hiding his scar. Everything in me softens toward Adrian in this moment. He’s clearly a private man and I waltzed into his sanctuary and broke a plate of cookies all over the floor. He’s not upset, he’s self-conscious. That’s something I can relate to on a visceral level.

“We never got to finish our chat about mystery novels,” I say with more confidence in my voice. “I picked out a few I thought you might enjoy.” I hold out the stack of books that was tucked under one arm, closing the distance between us.

Adrian takes my gift, his features morphing from stoic to curious, then to disbelief. “Books and cookies, huh?”

“I figured they’re pretty similar. You can’t have just one good cookie or one good book. You always need more.”

I smile at the enigmatic man and am thrilled when the corner of his lip twitches up. One day, I hope to see his full smile. For now, I’m satisfied with a flicker of joy.

“Thank you, Amelia. I don’t even know what to say.”

My eyes drop to his chest once more and try as I might, I can't seem to look away. Is it weird that I kind of want to lick his abs? Yes. Yes, it is.

“Shit, sorry,” Adrian says, grabbing a red t-shirt from the workbench next to him.

“I don’t mind,” I blurt out.Oh my god. Did I really just say that?“Er, uh, right. Never mind. What was I saying?”

Adrian finally looks me in the eye, his lips pulled into a slight smirk. My cheeks are on fire with how hard I’m blushing, but if it gave him a confidence boost, that’s worth it. How can he not see how freaking gorgeous he is? Especially compared to someone like me.

“You were sharing your philosophy on books and cookies,” Adrian says, reminding me of our conversation.

“Right. Well, we don’t have the cookies anymore, but the books are still good.” Adrian’s gaze drifts over my face, and I wonder what he’s thinking. “I just thought since you didn’t get a chance to browse more of the books yesterday, I’d bring some to you. I don’t know how often you make it into town and wouldn’t want you to miss out.”

He continues to study me for a few silent moments, allowing me to see his face, scar and all.

“I mean, I totally understand why you’d rather be up here,” I continue. I have a bad habit of rambling when I’m nervous. My mother found it annoying and never failed to shut me up one way or another, but the lesson must not have sunk in all the way. “I’d spend all my time in this beautiful sanctuary if I could. The peaceful streams, thick forest, and delicate but resilient wildflowers… it’s all so magical.”

“It is,” Adrian agrees. “It can be lonely, though.” Adrian’s blue eyes flash with a sadness so deep I could fall right in and drown. He clears his throat and changes the subject, clearly uncomfortable with the information he just shared. “Thank you for the books. I can’t remember the last time I got a gift, let alone a hand-delivered gift.”

“Don’t forget about the mess of broken cookies I left for you,” I tease.

Adrian gives me another slight smile, each one tying my heart closer to his. “I guess you’ll just have to stop by again with more.” As soon as the words leave his lips, his eyes grow wide. “I mean, if you want. Not that I’m telling you to bake things for me.”

I lay my hand on his arm, the warmth of his skin seeping into mine. He tenses at my touch but doesn't jerk away. "I would love to stop by again," I say softly. "I don't mind baking. It's like the one thing I'm good at," I joke. Memories of my mother complimenting my meals and desserts come flooding back. The only time I made her proud was when I cooked for the family..

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Adrian murmurs, his hand covering mine. We share a tender moment, a quiet moment filled with unspoken understanding.

My phone rings, cutting through the silence and making us jump apart. I dig my phone out of my pocket, my stomach sinking when I see who’s calling.

“Sorry,” I apologize as I silence the call.

“Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“What? Yeah. I’m fine,” answer, trying to recover. “Just someone checking in on me.” I smile at him, but Adrian isn’t buying my bullshit. He doesn’t press the matter, though, which I appreciate. I don’t want to burden him with my past. Adrian is complicated and still healing from whatever drove him all the way up here in the first place. He doesn’t need to carry my past as well. “I should get out of your hair,” I say, awkwardly shuffling my way out of his workshop.

Adrian doesn’t say anything or make a move to stop me until I have one foot out the door.

“Wait! Amelia, wait a second.”

I pause, looking at him over my shoulder. I’m on the verge of a panic attack after receiving that call and I don’t want him to see me fall apart. “Yeah?” I manage to say, swallowing back tears.

“Can I see you again?”

His question shocks me and delights me at the same time. “Of course,” I reply with a smile despite my growing anxiety.

“Tomorrow? I can come to you this time. Or not. Or next week. Or never. It’s… I mean, it’s probably not a good idea.”

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