Page 5 of Runaway for the Mountain Man
“Hello?” Lowering my guard slightly, more confusion settles in. I’m starting to wonder if it’s less a threat inside my cabin and more of a hiker who needed a place to get out of the storm.
Maybe not a hiker. A runaway bride? It doesn’t make sense, none of it.
Still getting no answer, I push away from the dress and continue my search.
Abandoning the kitchen, I checked the bathroom next. Humidity clings to the air, and I can see my shower has been used. The smell of my body wash is heavy, adding more proof to the crime that is taking place.
Is it that easy to get comfortable in a stranger’s home? I couldn’t possibly imagine.
With only one room left, I step in front of my bedroom door with a held breath. Preparing myself for the worst, I push open the door, and my breath catches at the sight before me.
A woman with dark auburn hair is curled beneath my blanket, hugging my pillow like it’s her partner. Looking so comfortable curled up, it takes seconds for my mind to catch up with another discovery.
She’s got one of my flannels on. The blanket covers half of her body, so it’s a mystery what she stole for her lower half.
Thunder booms from above, and my body prickles up like it’s ready to experience the same fear that always comes with thunderstorms. However, my current predicament is so distracting that my mind is not on the same page.
Fuck me.
Am I hallucinating? No, surely not. The shoes were real. The dress was real. This woman isreal.
Taking one step forward, like there is this mysterious pull beckoning me to approach, I freeze as the floor creaks beneath my weight.
Her lashes flutter against her cheeks before her eyes open. Like she’s in a daze, she moves to sit up, and those long auburn waves come cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall.
The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on is staring back at me. Her eyes meet mine, and she blinks. Then she notices my knife in my tight grip before her eyes grow round.
I recognize the fear as soon as it hits those brown orbs, even more when she jerks back like a wounded animal.
Seeing that she is nowhere close to a threat, I hold my hand out to reassure her and slip the blade back into its sheath.
“Just had to be safe. I don’t get company often,” I explained slowly, trying to keep distance between us despite the silent pull. “Who are you?”
“Josephine.” Her voice wobbles, and it claws at my chest. Not just because I’ve startled her, but her voice is like a songbird’s. Melodic and smooth. Soothing, almost. “But most people call me Josie.”
“Okay, Josie, why are you in my bed? No, rather, what are you doing in my home?” Asking the important questions here, I stop myself before I ask her where she’s been my entire life.
I don’t jerk when she moves to abandon my bed, but I do when she throws the blanket off her body and reveals the creamiest colored thighs I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
Jesus.Get a hold of yourself, Bentley.
“I can explain. I, um, had this whole speech planned out.” She wipes at her eyes like exhaustion is still prickling away. Makes me regret waking her up. “You’re just, I mean…”
Cocking a brow, I watch as she tries to find her words. Looking like she’s struggling as much as I am, she motions at me like it’ll give me the answer I’m looking for. Unfortunately, it doesn’t.
“How about we move this somewhere more open?” Some place where my bed isn’t only a few feet away, tempting me to coax her back to it. A stranger, for fucks sake. One who is wearing my shirt, and God knows what else from the looks of it. I’m fighting a war not to let my eyes flicker down in wonder.
Relief forms on her face, and she nods. Keeping a distance while following behind me, we both make our way to the living room. I motion for her to sit down so she can explain.
“I needed to get out of the storm, and your cabin was the first I came across. Plus, the door was unlocked.” Stating the facts like it is a crime, she purses her lips. “Who does that, anyway?”
“Someone who doesn’t normally worry about people breaking in. The mountain is quiet, don’t get a lot of troublemakers,” I explain as I cross my arms over my chest.
“I’m not a—” Her face scrunches up, and she peels her eyes away from me. “I planned on paying you back. Once I can get my hands on my belongings, I’m going to write you a check.”
“That’s going to include the food you ate?”
Her cheeks turn pink in color, and my head gets dizzy. Just when I think she can’t get any prettier, she does.
