Page 5 of Crazy for the Mountain Man

I showed her where I kept everything and got her out a serving spoon. She scooped me out a large piece and a smaller one for her. “It’s still a bit warm, but you might want to heat it up.”

“I’m sure it’s great.” I said as I took a seat at the table. One bite sold me on her cooking, the Italian herbs and spices dancing with my taste buds. “Wow, this is delicious.”

“Why thank you. Does the grumpy man know how to be nice?” Brielle teased as she sunk into the seat across from me.

“Very funny.” I huffed before shoving another forkful of lasagna in my mouth.

Brielle ate her meal slower than me, a delighted look on her face as she watched me devour her food. “One of the best parts of cooking is watching someone else enjoy your food. It makes it all worth it.”

I chuckled to myself. This woman. So full of surprises. “Is it? I wouldn’t know. I’ve only cooked for myself for the past ten years or so.”

“I’d love to try your cooking.”

“It’s nothing exciting, believe me. Just the basics.”

“I doubt you’re giving yourself enough credit. So have you changed your bandage at all?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Okay. Then I’ll change it after dessert. You have to promise not to pass out on me this time though.”

“I’ll do my best.” I finished off my lasagna and got up to get seconds.

Brielle radiated so much happy energy, it was damn near contagious. She watched me with amusement as I filled up my plate with a heaping serving of lasagna and she continued to watch me as I finished it off within a few minutes.

“Wow, you must’ve liked it a lot.”

“It was delicious. Thank you.”

“The third casserole in Shepard’s pie. A simple one yet a classic.”

“I love Shepard’s pie. My mom—” I choked on the words in my throat, the memory from my childhood bringing me right back. I could almost smell the hamburger cooking and the veggies sautéing.

Brielle waited for me to finish, not once trying to rush the words she could tell I was having trouble saying.

I cleared my throat and stood up, gathering our dishes with my good hand. “My mom made it a lot when I was growing up. It was one of our favorites.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. Does she live around here? I can save her some if you’d like.” Brielle said as she came up behind me.

I dropped the plates in the sink, a little too harshly, and they clattered against the metal. Brielle jumped back.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drop them like that.” I took a deep breath. “My mom…my mom passed away a while back. It’s hard for me to talk about.”

Brielle placed her hand on my arm and while normally I’d flinch away from someone else’s touch, hers felt nice. Warm. Comforting. “I’m so sorry, Rhodes.”

“Thanks. I miss her a lot. She raised me here in Appleridge and I feel her here with me. I have so many memories in town of me as a little boy with her.”

Brielle listened, her hand rubbing my arm with soft strokes, only her fingers brushing against my flannel shirt. “Aw, that’s so sweet. I bet she’s with you here. Every day.”

I turned and faced her, my eyes searching hers, so many feelings, feelings I never wanted to feel, pulsating between us.

How does she manage to work her way in?

I took a step, closing the distance between us, the fantasy of kissing her on repeat in my head.

Closer, closer…

But then the pain and hurt from past memories crashed over me and I backed up. Opening up meant getting hurt. I couldn’t do it again. “I’m sorry, but you should probably go.”

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