Page 4 of Mountain Man's Surrender

Something in my expression must register with him because he steps forward, his voice gentler with her than it was with me. “Mrs. Wilkins, Aspen just arrived in town. I’m sure she’s tired from her journey.”

“Oh, of course, of course.” Mrs. Wilkins releases me, patting my arm as if we’re old friends, while relief and a touch of gratitude replaces my discomfort. “Well, welcome to Wildwood, dear. It’ll be so nice to have you here. You’re staying at Simon’s apartment, I assume?” Her eyes shoot across the garage to a staircase in the corner, leading to a second story I didn’t notice before. My expression tightens at the assumption.

“No, I’ll be finding a hotel in town.” The last place I could imagine staying is inhisspace, surrounded byhisthings,hismemories. A life that didn’t include me by choice. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve always believed.

Mrs. Wilkins’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh, honey, you won’t find a vacancy anywhere around here. Not with a big storm coming.”

“Storm?” I glance toward the window, noticing now how the snowflakes that were already coming down hard on my way here have grown fatter, the wind hurling them against the glass in wet splatters. My heart sinks.

“Five feet expected by the end of the week.” Mrs. Wilkins nods with obvious satisfaction. “The skiers have been waiting all season for decent powder. Serenity Slopes is completely booked. That’s our luxury resort up on the mountain, you see. My granddaughter works there. Even the little motels along Route 7 filled up days ago.”

Panic rises in my chest as my mouth goes dry. “There has to be something—”

My plans are unraveling faster than I can process. I need space, distance from this place and this mountain of a man who’s challenging everything I thought I knew. And who, for good reason, makes me want to climb him.

“You know,” Mrs. Wilkins says, brightening, “Landry has that lovely cabin of his. Not that I’ve seen it, of course, but I’m sure it’s nice and cozy this time of year.”

Landry nearly chokes. “That’s not—”

“Oh, it would be perfect!” Mrs. Wilkins continues, warming to her idea. “Landry was your father’s best friend. I’m sure he could tell you some stories—”

My father’s best friend?But before I can try to assemble the cascade of jumbled revelations into some sort of cohesive thought, Landry cuts in.

“Absolutely not,” he says firmly, a flush creeping up his scarred neck.

The thought of being alone with this gruff man in a remote cabin sends a flutter through my stomach that I quickly tamp down. Sure, older guys have always been my jam, and this one is attractive in a rough and rugged sort of way, but this ismy father’s best friend, and therefore, off limits for a million reasons. Or, at least, he should be.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate,” I add, matching his discomfort. Still, I can’t help but let my eyes flick over him, taking in his broad shoulders, those powerful hands, the way his flannel stretches across his chest, before I tear my gaze away, hoping he didn’t notice.

Mrs. Wilkins glances between us, not picking up what we’re throwing down. “Well, I just thought…”

“The apartment above the garage will be fine,” I blurt out, the reluctance clear in my voice. “After all, it’s only for a night or two.” Just long enough to sell this place and get back to my life.

“Only sensible option,” Landry agrees gruffly and so quickly it smarts. As if having me stay with him would be a burden he’s glad not to take on. But we wouldn’t be in this mess right now if it wasn’t for him, damn it.

Mrs. Wilkins beams as if she’s personally responsible for solving a crisis. “Wonderful! Well, I won’t keep you two. Landry, dear, don’t worry about rushing with my car. I can see you have other matters to attend to, and it’s not like we’ll be heading out in this weather.” She squeezes my arm once more. “This town loved your father something fierce.”

I watch Mrs. Wilkins go then turn back to Landry, trying to keep my expression neutral despite the turmoil inside. The silence between us feels heavy. I’m acutely aware of the howling wind outside and the way a small puddle has formed at my feet on the concrete floor, thanks to the snow melting off my jacket.

“Simon lived here? At the garage?” The question slips out before I can stop it, uncertainty making my voice softer than intended.

Landry reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key chain with a single key dangling from it. He tilts his head toward stairs Mrs. Wilkins glanced at. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’s clean.”

My jaw tightens as I follow his gaze. I make no move toward the stairs, dreading what I might find.

“Look,” Landry says, still holding out the key. “As you pointed out, you own the place. The apartment’s just sitting there empty. It’s…practical.”

I stare at the key for a long moment. Finally, I reach for it, our fingers brushing as I take it. An unexpected jolt races up my arm at the contact, and Landry pulls his hand back quickly as if burned.

“It’s late,” he continues, raking a hand through his dark hair threaded with silver, suddenly looking tired. “Why don’t you get settled, get some rest? We can talk about the garage tomorrow.”

For a moment, I consider arguing, insisting we settle everything now, so I can leave this town and the questions it’s raising behind, but there’s more to…everything here than I thought. Clearly, this man is worried about his job, and I wasn’t prepared to fire anyone. Plus, exhaustion from the day’s journey and revelations weighs on me. And Landry McCord has answers to questions I didn’t even know I had until an hour ago.

My shoulders drop as I give in to his suggestion. “Fine. Tomorrow.”

I head toward the stairs, my steps faltering as I reach them. Looking up at the door feels like staring at a portal to another world. One where the man who was my father lived and breathed and apparently was unaware I’d even been born.

I turn back to Landry, unable to leave without acknowledging what he told me earlier, if it’s really true. My face feels tight with the effort of controlling the storm of emotions all fighting for dominance.

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