Page 2 of Mountain Man's Mail Order Treat

That brought a frown. “I was planning to stop by the fancy steakhouse in Hartsville. It’s the main town where we get our groceries and supplies.”

There was a feed store in Wildwood Valley, along with a small market, but that wasn’t enough—even for the men like me who lived in our cabins and kept things as simple as possible. Hartsville had a wide selection of restaurants, including a steakhouse that was perfect for romancing your future wife.

“You don’t have to work to impress me,” she said. “You’ve already done that.”

She looked over at me for that last part, and tendrils of warmth wrapped around my heart. I hadn’t expected this. Her. The way she moved through the world like she had purpose, even when juggling four suitcases and three boxes of jam. Whitley was sweet and stunning and smart, and I was already starting to picture what it’d be like waking up next to her every morning in that quiet cabin of mine.

As I headed north on the highway, she pulled a notebook from her tote and started flipping through it.

“What’s that?” I asked, glancing over.

“My to-do list,” she said brightly. “For the next couple of months.”

“Months?”

She didn’t notice my tone at first, just kept scanning the page with her finger. “Yeah, I’ve got a few goals for the rest of the summer season. Hit at least four farmers’ markets, test a new plum recipe, maybe see if Bobbi’s got space for a shelf of my stuff inside the inn…”

I nodded slowly. “That all sounds good.”

“And if it doesn’t work out,” she added with a little shrug, “I’ll head back home. I mean, not that I want to, but I kept my apartment lease open-ended just in case.”

I didn’t say anything right away. Just kept my hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead while the pine trees blurred past. It was like cold water had been dumped over my head. Not that I expected her to come in with a legally binding heart, but damn, I hadn’t figured on her keeping one foot out the door.

She smiled and leaned her head back against the seat. “Don’t look so serious. I’m not going anywhere yet. I came to meet you, didn’t I?”

Yeah, she had. But I came to marry her, and it was starting to sound like she was here to sample the lifestyle. Like I was justone part of the Wildwood Valley experience she wanted to try on for size.

She didn’t say anything else, and I didn’t ask. Just pressed my foot a little harder on the gas, suddenly itching to get her home. To show her exactly what she’d be walking away from if she ever decided to go.

2

WHITLEY

Iwas in heaven. Pure heaven.

When Jareth first mentioned it, I thought pimento cheese on a burger sounded disgusting. But he was right. It brought something to the burger that regular cheese couldn’t.

As I swallowed, I opened my eyes and looked at the man seated across from me. Then I tilted my head as I took in his expression. Nobody had ever looked at me like that before. If I had to compare it to anything, it would probably be the way I would look at that burger before I took my second bite.

“This burger was definitely worth the wait,” I said, answering a question he didn’t ask.

God, he was gorgeous. I hadn’t expected that. Sure, I’d seen pictures, but they didn’t do him justice. They didn’t capture the thick arms and broad shoulders. And his eyes…they were just piercing. I couldn’t tell if they were blue, green, gray, or hazel. All I knew was they seemed to see right into my soul.

Yeah, I could definitely imagine kissing this guy. And doing more.

We were sharing a bed tonight. And I was beyond ready to lose my virginity. That was on my to-do list—an item I hadn’t even mentioned to him.

Of course, he didn’t know I was a virgin. If he did, he might not have wanted to marry me.

“Good,” he said. “So this flea market…”

“Farmers market,” I said. “Right here in town. Bobbi said she’s going to set me up early. Prime spot. In front of the pancake house.”

His mouth opened, but not to shove more of his cheesesteak between his lips. He was just staring at me, all his movements having frozen.

“There’s a farmers market in front of the pancake house? That’s a new one on me.”

I frowned at him. “I just assumed it’s every Saturday morning or something. Although I guess a town this small might just have it once a month. Maybe even once a quarter.”

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