Page 5 of Heart of the Mountain
“Like sheep is the plural of sheep?”
I nod.
“Huh. I learned something new today.”
The curvy, mysterious trespasser snuggles deeper into my arms like she’s completely satisfied with her journey, so long as it ends with learning a new fact. She’s so curious about the world around her, like everything is fresh. I can’t remember the last time I felt the freedom and innocence she so clearly carries with her.
“You’re kind of adorable,” she says, shocking the hell out of me.
“Am not,” I grunt.
“Mmm… Agree to disagree, Mr. Mountain Man Moose Wrangler.”
Dammit if my lip doesn’t twitch in the hint of a smirk. She’s the adorable one, and I don’t know what to do about it.
My cabin comes into view, and I make it to the porch steps in four long strides. Carrying the beautiful woman inside, I head straight to the bathroom and deposit her on the counter next to the sink.
I grab a towel and hand it to her so she can cover up. I don’t want her to feel more vulnerable than she already is. She was stranded in the woods, and a strange man scooped her up and brought her back to his remote cabin. She’s in nothing but a bra and skirt, and I don’t want her worrying about me being a perv.
Focusing on her ankle, I squat down to get a better look. It’s red and already starting to bruise, making my stomach twist in a knot. For some reason, I can’t stand the thought of this woman in pain. Not that I take pleasure in other people experiencing pain, but this is different. Like I’m obsessed with protecting every hair on her head.
A possessiveness sweeps through me, so forceful it takes the breath from my lungs. Someone else could have found her.Someone with sinister intentions. She could have been ripped apart by wild animals or starved to death. The more I think about the possibilities, the harder it is to breathe.
“It’s not broken,” she says, cutting into my intrusive thoughts. “It doesn’t feel sprained, either. Probably just a nasty bruise,” she declares with a nod. “I’ve had worse.”
My gaze snaps up to hers, but she darts her eyes away. A blush rises in her cheeks, and she clears her throat. For someone so willing and eager to talk, she doesn’t have any follow-up for her troubling confession.
“Worse?” I choke.
She shrugs. “Ice and Aspirin will fix me right up, and then I’ll be out of your hair, I promise.”
I grunt, unable to form words at the moment. I don’t think I like the idea of her leaving any more than I like her being in pain. What the fuck is that about?
“I’ll get an ice pack ready,” I inform her when I find my voice. “You can clean up in the shower. I’ll leave clothes outside the door for you to change into.”
I stand and start backing away from the siren and her intoxicating mix of sweetness, sassiness, and unmistakable sadness, though I know she’d fight me on that last one. Holding out my hand, I help her off the counter and then lean over and turn the water on in the shower for her.
She looks up at me with a towel wrapped around her nearly naked torso, the dirt on her cheeks reminding me of the rough day she’s had. This beautiful woman doesn’t need me ogling her or making her any more uncomfortable than she already is.
With a final nod, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door and leaning against it. The cool wood pressed against my back calms me down a bit, but my thoughts are still racing. I don’t even know her name, but she’s already starting to shift things aroundinside my chest, making room for herself without even trying. God fucking help me for whatever comes next.
3
SADIE
After a hot shower and de-tangling my hair, I’m feeling a little more in control. My ankle is sore and extremely tender, but at least I don’t look like a disheveled woodland monster anymore.
I quickly dry myself off and throw my freshly-washed hair up into a bun before hobbling my way to the door. I crack it open slightly and grab the clothes my rescuer left for me to change into, unfolding a massive navy blue sweatshirt that will look like a dress on me. The matching pair of sweatpants is equally as gigantic. I suppose that makes sense–the mountain man who saved me is a towering Roman god of a man with muscles for days.
My cheeks heat at the memory of him carrying me through the forest. I could feel his strength, the tendons in his arms, the hardened muscles of his abs tightening and flexing against my bare flesh with each step.
Get it together!I yell internally. I’m in a precarious enough situation as it is; no need to complicate things further by catching feelings. Besides, I can’t imagine he has the same attraction to me. Why would he? I’m probably over a decade younger than him, chubby by all accounts, and I never knowwhen to shut up. I can’t help my rambling, but it has to drive the man mad. He’s barely spoken more than a few sentences and grunted responses, which tells me he’s not used to my brand of chaos.
I pull on the sweatshirt and sweatpants, secretly loving the earthy, pine, and peppermint scent that I know belongs to their owner. The loose fabric almost makes me feel dainty, which I don’t think I’ve ever experienced.
When I’ve stalled as long as I can, I take a fortifying breath and limp down the hallway toward the living room. I’m not sure what to expect, but I put on my most convincing smile and dial up the charm, hoping to talk my way out of this sticky situation.
I can’t exactly tell the property owner I was here scouting out his land without his permission, but I still need his help getting back to town. Once the dust has settled, I’ll mail his clothes back, along with a thank-you note, and that will be that. Or, maybe I’ll keep his clothes forever and smell them every so often like a stalker ex-girlfriend to remind myself of the sexy mountain man who carried me through the woods.
