Page 7 of Cursed Mountain Man

Icouldn’t stop thinking about Josiah. After a half hour or so, I was starting to think maybe I’d been wrong in what I told him. Hiding out here at work didn’t help me escape the loneliness. I felt lonelier here than I had in a long time.

The sound of a car door closing jerked my attention away from my screen. It reminded me I’d been staring at it for no telling how long, not even processing the words in front of me or doing anything with them. I was just sitting there, reliving my evening with the best-looking guy I’d ever seen.

Frowning, I returned my attention to the screen. I put both hands on the keyboard, which was something I did in broad daylight when I thought another agent might be joining me. But nobody came into the office this late. Nobody but me.

I moved my hands to my lap and turned the chair until I was facing the door. Should I call the police? Maybe I should look for something I could use as a weapon.

The door suddenly swung open, and I gasped. My desk was the closest to it, so I was usually the one in charge of greeting any walk-ins if other people were in the office. There was a big smile on my face. I realized that when it froze there, leaving me looking like a big goof.

The man walking through that door was not a future or current client. No, this was a former client. This was Josiah.

“I thought you might want some company,” he said.

I should say something clever. Maybe even flirtatious. I tried to come up with the right words, but I was drawing a blank that left me just sitting there, staring at him like a moron.

“I don’t want to interrupt your work,” he continued when I still didn’t speak. He took a step back toward the door, which still sat open.

I shook my head. “You’re not interrupting.”

I gestured toward my screen but said nothing. I hadn’t been doing anything, really. Nothing but thinking about him, and I couldn’t say that.

He shut the door, facing it as he did. When he turned back to me, shoving his hands into his front pockets, I realized something. He was nervous. This tall, muscular, gorgeous guy was actually nervous. Somehow, that gave me confidence. I pushed myself to my feet, rubbing my palms on my skirt as though to smooth it down, and looked around.

“I’d offer to give you a tour, but there’s not much to see,” I said. “This is pretty much it.”

“Kind of like my cabin.” He laughed. “Aside from the two bedrooms and bathroom, you can stand at the front door and get the full experience.”

I nodded. “Exactly. Only this is more boring. Just a bunch of desks with computers on them. There’s a copier in the back and, believe it or not, a fax machine. My boss got it used, just in case.”

What was I carrying on about? He couldn’t care less about this stuff.

“I’ve seen worse,” he said with a laugh. “I was in the military, remember?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “You want something to drink? We have bottled waters in the fridge.”

He shook his head. “That’s okay.”

He was looking around—everywhere but at me. I felt an awkwardness between us, like neither of us knew what move to make next.

I knew what move I wanted to make. I was having fantasies about crossing the distance between us and pressing my body against his as he lowered his mouth to mine. His hands would go to my back, pulling me toward him.

But I didn’t dare initiate that. What if I walked toward him and he gave me a strange look and asked what I was doing?

That reminded me of something. I’d seen a hint of darkness in his eyes as he mentioned his military experience. I’d noticed that a lot with the men around this town. They didn’t talk about their pasts, but it was there. Their haunted expressions gave away what they were hiding.

“I thought a lot about our conversation,” he said. “Life is short. Sitting in my cabin alone, thinking about you?—”

He didn’t finish that. He just moved his hands from his pockets and spread his arms wide. Was that his way of demonstrating all the things he couldn’t say? Maybe they didn’t need to be said.

As our eyes met, those words went through my mind. Something was communicated in the look we shared. It was beyond words. It was beyond anything I’d ever experienced before.

And then we were both moving. We came together as if we’d quietly agreed to do so. We met, our arms immediately going around each other, our lips coming together in a kiss that was several hours overdue.

We quickly made up for lost time. His hands slid under my jacket and up the back of my silky blouse. I wanted to feel his fingers on my bare skin. I was almost overwhelmed by the need. But instead, I focused on the kiss and on the feel of his hard-muscled shoulders beneath my touch. It was like coming home.

He moaned as I pressed my body closer to him, rising on tiptoe and arching my back to get as close as I could. That was when I felt my shirt being pulled from the waistband of my skirt. His hand was moving up, up, up. And then it was on the small of my back, sliding over my bare skin, making me warm all over.

Removing my hands from his neck, I lowered my arms and shrugged off my jacket, letting it fall to the ground. Disappointment flooded my body when his hand moved away. But I felt it again within seconds—on my buttons. Both his hands were between us, stopping me from pressing my body tightly against his as it had been. The cool air hit my bare skin as he removed my shirt.

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