Page 3 of Enticed By the Mountain Man

The same thing happens now.

Everything seems right in the world when Carrie is around. There’s no problem too unsurmountable when I have her assistance.

She steps back and closes the door before going over to her side. I’ve never been in her car before, but it’s surprisingly not as well-kept as I expected. There’s a layer of dust on the dashboard, and the windscreen is slightly smudged. But for some reason, I find it endearing. It’s nice to see behind her perfect façade.

“Am I driving you to your place?” she asks.

“Uh, yeah. Thank you. As long as it’s not too far out for you?”

“If you’re paying me overtime, I’ll drive you anywhere,” she says, her voice lightly teasing.

“Home is far enough. And that’s a yes to the overtime. Of course. When have I ever not paid you for your services?”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I worry they sound insensitive. Like our relationship is purely transactional.

Which, I suppose, it is.

“I mean—” I start to say.

“I’ve always liked that about you. You pay well and on time,” she says.

I look across at her in the dark and wonder what she’s thinking right now. Which is another first. All my past interactions with Carrie have been strictly professional.

Okay. That’s a lie.

That’s what I want her to think.

That’s what I try to uphold.

But it’s getting harder and harder to keep pretending. And tonight has already threatened to break apart the carefully crafted act I’ve built over the past three years.

I’m distracted by rain pitter-pattering onto the car.

“I didn’t know there was any rain forecast,” I say.

“Hopefully it doesn’t last long,” she replies.

“Just be careful on some of the narrower roads. They’re quite low, and nearby streams wash over them when it rains.”

“Have you ever thought of living somewhere slightly more convenient?” she asks, again with the teasing.

“Occasionally. But I like my privacy. And the quiet. If I lived closer to town, I’d have to deal with noise from neighbors and people unexpectedly dropping in. That doesn’t happen where I am.”

“I guess it wouldn’t.”

Carrie has never been to my house, but she has the GPS to guide her, so we’re silent for the remainder of the trip. The only noise is the rain falling gently on the car. We don’t even have music to listen to. I want to ask about her taste in music, but we don’t have that kind of relationship.

Which is kind of a shame.

Whydon’twe have that kind of relationship?

THREE

Carrie

I pull into a long and meandering driveway that takes us up to Justin’s house. I vaguely knew where he lived, but I hadn’t realized it was this far out of town.

He mustreallylove his privacy.

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