Page 14 of Admiring the Mountain Man
If I survive this, I am going to make Hayes Fostermine.
* * *
I should give the Hollow Oak more credit. It has a strong structure, taking hardly any damage.
When I wake up, I’m still curled up on Hayes’ lap. Exhaustion prickles in the back of my eyelids, but I can’t close them, not when I’m too busy staring up at his sleeping face.
He is so handsome. Way out of my league. Yet, he gave me all of his attention until I was too tired to keep up.
Despite trying to be careful to get up, I wake him, and he groans.
“Looks like we survived.” Letting out a yawn, he squints toward the windows to take in the damage. Once I’m off of him, he follows me off the seat. Grabbing his shirt, he tugs it on before fetching his cane.
Looking up, I see the lights are on. The power must have come back on while we were sleeping.
Making our way outside, the air is cool. As I lean close to him to continue being greedy and sucking up his warmth, I take in the white sky. Full of clouds, it no longer looks angry.
“Some streets might be flooded, but it doesn’t look terrible.” He continues searching before grimacing. “The town might beall right, but I can’t imagine the mountain is. The rescue team is going to have one hell of a time cleaning up fallen trees.”
Nodding my head, I turned back to look at him. “Does that mean you’re stuck in town until later?”
Sighing next to me, he nods. “If I have to guess. Need to call a tow and see if the shop can afford to take my truck. Need to do something with it. After that, I’m not sure what I’ll do to pass the time. I can always walk, but I doubt I’ll make it that far.”
My laugh is dry, and I can’t tell if he’s serious or not. I’d hope not. The last thing I want is for him to hurt himself.
“I can make a few calls, but what are you going to do?” His eyes flicker toward the bar, and I can see what he’s asking. Is everything going to go back to the way it was before the storm?
What am I planning to do?
There are so many different things to do; I’m not even sure where to start.
The bar is supposed to open in a couple of hours, but what if some of the employees can’t make it? What if—
A warmth forms against my shoulder, and I look over to find Hayes squeezing my body carefully. As if he can see the thoughts unwinding and whirling in my mind, he gives me another squeeze. His touch is electric, erasing all my worries instantly.
The truth is, I don’t want to work. I want to stay by his side and live a little.
A reckless energy hums under my skin.
“You know what?” I say, turning to him. “One day of opening the bar a little late can’t hurt anybody. Everyone will be too distracted with their own problems. Plus, I worked a double yesterday. Today is supposed to be my day off. I should be able to enjoy it far away from here.”
He raises an eyebrow, looking at me in curiosity. “You sure?”
“After last night? Yeah. I’m throwing caution to the wind.” I nod toward the street. “Come to my place for now. We’ll catch aride, figure out your flat tire later.” A pause, then a smile. “And whatever happens… happens.”
The corner of his mouth tilts up, something warm flickering in his gaze. “Got it all figured out then? Sounds like a plan.”
6
Hayes
Nash from Steel Haven doesn’t ask questions—just chuckles on the other side of the phone call and says he’ll have my car towed to the shop by noon. One of the Monday regulars, a fellow brother who’s hauled worse than a waterlogged sedan out of a ditch.
Lucky break. Or maybe luck’s got nothing to do with it, because right now, the only thing that matters is the woman beside me, tugging me toward a weathered apartment complex with a parking lot that’s more pond than pavement now that we’ve crawled out of the tight back seat of a cramped car she hired through some app on her phone.
Kelsie’s grip on my hand is tight, her fingers laced through mine like she’s afraid I’ll bolt if she lets go. Funny, considering I’d follow her through a tornado after last night.
The building isn’t much—peeling paint, a flickering exterior light, the sour tang of wet concrete clinging to the air. But she’shere, biting her lip as she glances back at me, and suddenly the cracked stairs and sagging gutters don’t mean a damn thing.
