Page 11 of The Mountain Man's Mail Order Muse
Hudson looks up from the canvas he’s been adjusting. His face is unreadable at first—his brows low, his mouth neutral, but not unkind. “I don’t really draw people,” he says after a second. “I mostly do landscapes. Trees, mountains. That kind of thing.”
I laugh softly, trying to make it sound light, teasing. “Well, maybe you should try new things. You know… like me.”
He doesn’t smile.
He doesn’t even chuckle.
Instead, he shifts uncomfortably and looks back at the canvas. “I don’t want to.”
The words hang in the air like a slap.
I freeze. My smile dies so fast it’s embarrassing. My cheeks are already hot, burning with shame. “Right,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. I force out a tight laugh and step away. “Of course. That was dumb. Forget I said anything.”
“Daisy—” he starts, but I don’t wait to hear it.
It was going so well and now I’ve made a fool of myself. I need out. Now. Just a little space to regroup. I feel like I killed the magic between us by pushing too hard.
“I’m just gonna go get some air,” I say quickly, my words running over his. “I’ll, uh… I’ll feed the cat.”
I walk fast, too fast, out of the studio and down the hallway. My feet echo too loud on the floor and my eyes sting, but I don’t cry. I won’t. Not here. Not in his house.
Hishouse. Not mine.
I close the door to the bedroom behind me and press my back against it, breathing hard. My cat blinks up at me from the bed, tail flicking lazily like the world isn’t tilting sideways underneath me.
I feel stupid. Stupid for making it awkward when we were building something good. Stupid for pushing. For suggesting. For hoping.
Ishouldknow better.
My ex used to go quiet like that before he’d explode. Before he’d make me feel like nothing for wanting too much. For wantinganything. I learned quick—don’t press. Don’t poke. Don’t make a man feel cornered. That was the first step toward the bruises, the silence, the screaming.
And I didn’t come here to fall in love. I came here to survive.
I wrap my arms around myself and sit down on the edge of the bed, the air thick with my own embarrassment. I’d convinced myself this arrangement was about safety. About stability. That love was for fools and fairy tales.
But the second he smiled at me yesterday, I started spinning dreams like a girl who doesn’t remember what it's like to be afraid of wanting.
Maybe I’m already messing it up? Maybe he doesn’t want me the way I want him?
Back to viewing this as a business arrangement.
CHAPTER
FIVE
HUDSON
The room feelsdifferent after she leaves. Empty in a way it wasn’t just seconds ago.
I stare at the blank canvas in front of me and try to pretend I didn’t just screw that up. My jaw is tight. My hands are clenched. And for the first time since she arrived, I can feel the muscles in my cheeks relax—not from tension, but because I’m not smiling anymore.
Because there’s nothing to smile about.
God, I’m such an idiot.
I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I was trying toprotectsomething—my space, my habits, my carefully ordered life. But the look on her face… the way her smile vanished like I’d reached out and snatched it off her lips… It guts me more than I expect.
She put herself out there. And I shut her down like it meant nothing. I truly am an idiot.
