Page 9 of Stranded with the Mountain Man

"You brought binoculars in your emergency backpack?" Of course she did.Always prepared.

"Botanist," she reminds me with a small shrug."Never know when you'll spot an interesting specimen."

I scrub a hand over my face, stubble rasping against my palm."So your housing situation is worse than you thought."

"Much worse." She adjusts her glasses nervously."I called the insurance company.They're sending someone out, but with the storm damage countywide, it could be days.Maybe a week."

I see where this is going. "The nearest hotel's in Riversend, thirty minutes down the mountain."

"I know." She meets my eyes directly."But the road to town is completely washed out on the east side.I checked the county emergency services website.They're saying at least three days before it's passable."

Silence stretches between us as the implication sinks in.She's stranded. Here. With me.

"I understand if it's too much to ask," she continues, words tumbling out faster now."I can... I don't know, pitch a tent or something.I saw you have camping gear in the mud room, and I'm not completely helpless in the woods, contrary to what you probably--"

"Deena." Her name still feels strange on my tongue after so long."I'm not making you sleep in a tent."

Relief flashes across her face."Are you sure? I don't want to impose more than I already have."

"It's fine." It's not fine. Nothing about this situation is fine.But I'm not enough of a bastard to turn her out."Guest room's yours until the roads clear."

"Thank you." She smiles, genuine gratitude warming her expression."I promise I'll stay out of your way.You won't even know I'm here."

Unlikely, given that every cell in my body seems hyperaware of her presence, but I just nod."I do have a few house rules.Lock the doors if you go out.Don't touch my weapons. Bear eats at seven and five, he has special food in the pantry.I work in myshop most days; don't interrupt unless something's on fire.Oh, and for the love of all things holy, stay off the damn roof."

She nods, hiding a smile as she, no doubt, takes mental notes."What's in your shop?"

"Woodworking. I like doing restorations." I don't elaborate, don't tell her it's the only thing that quiets my mind these days, the only peace I've found since leaving the club.

"I didn't know you did woodworking." Her eyes show genuine interest."That's the addition on the north side of the cabin?"

"Yeah." I drain my coffee, uncomfortable with her questions."I need a shower. Make yourself at home, I guess."

I'm halfway to the bathroom when her voice stops me.

"Ross?"

I turn, finding her watching me with an expression I can't quiteread.

"I really am sorry. About everything." She gestures vaguely betweenus."I know this is awkward, and I'm the last person you want to be stuckwith."

For a moment, I consider agreeing, maintaining the wall I've built between myself and the past sherepresents.It would be safer.Cleaner.

Instead, I find myself saying, "You're not the lastperson.Maybe topfive."

A genuine laugh escapes her, and the sound unlocks something rusty inside mychest.

"I'll try to work my way down the list," she says, smile lingering at the corners of hermouth.

"See that you do." I turn away before she can see the answering smile threatening to break through my carefully maintainedindifference.

Three days. Maybe a week. I can handlethat.I spent five years with the Saints, surrounded by chaos andviolence.Surely, I can survive one botanist temporarily sharing myspace.

Even if that person is Deena Wilson, the only woman who ever made me believe in something beyond theclub.The woman who leftanyway.

The woman who's currently making herself at home in my kitchen, humming softly under her breath as she moves around the space like she belongsthere.

Chapter

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