Page 2 of The Mountain Man's Mail Order Surprise
"You're right. I don't know you." He pauses, studying my face with an intensity that makes my skin heat. "But I know that no man should ever put his hands on a woman in anger. I know that whoever did this to you doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as you."
The fierce protectiveness in his voice does something to my insides that I wasn't prepared for. When was the last time someone defended me? When did anyone last look at me like I was worth defending?
"It's complicated."
"No, it's not." His voice is gentle but absolute. "You deserve better than someone who hurts you."
Tears threaten, but I blink them back. I can't fall apart in a hotel bar with a stranger, no matter how safe he makes me feel.
"Sorry," I mumble. "You came here for a quiet drink, not to listen to some woman's sob story."
"Hey." He touches my hand lightly, just a brush of fingers that sends electricity up my arm. "Don't apologize for telling the truth. And for what it's worth, I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be right now."
The sincerity in his voice breaks something loose in my chest. "You don't even know me."
"Maybe not. But I'd like to." His thumb strokes across my knuckles, and I don't pull away. "Tell me something real about you. Something that has nothing to do with marketing or ex-boyfriends or any of that bullshit."
I consider deflecting again, but there's something about this man that makes me want to be honest. Maybe it's the way he looks at me like I'm worth listening to. Maybe it's the whiskey.Maybe it's just the desperate need to remember who I used to be before Zack systematically dismantled my confidence.
"I wanted to be a photographer," I say quietly. "Before marketing, before everything else. I wanted to travel the world and capture moments that mattered. Weddings, births, celebrations. All the times when people are purely, authentically happy."
"What stopped you?"
I shrug. "Life. Student loans. The practical need for steady income." I don't mention Zack's systematic campaign to convince me that artistic dreams were childish, that I needed to focus on "real" career goals. "What about you? Always wanted to build things?"
"Always. Even as a kid, I was taking apart everything I could get my hands on just to see how it worked. Drove my mom crazy." His smile is soft with memory. "She used to say I had magic hands, that I could fix anything."
"Can you?"
"Most things. Though I'm better with wood and steel than I am with people."
"I don't know about that." The words slip out before I can stop them. "You're doing pretty well with me right now."
The air between us shifts, becoming charged with something I haven't felt in years. Attraction, yes, but more than that. Connection. Understanding. The sense that this stranger sees me in a way Zack never has.
"Gia." My name sounds different in his voice. Richer, warmer, like something precious. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Are you going back to him? Tonight, I mean. After this."
The question is loaded with implications that make my heart race. "I don't know."
"What if you didn't have to?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what if you could stay here tonight? With me. No expectations, no pressure. Just... not alone."
The offer should terrify me. I don't know this man, don't know anything about him except that he makes me feel safer than I have in months. But instead of fear, I feel something that might be hope.
"I couldn't. I shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"Because..." I search for a reason that doesn't sound pathetic. "Because I don't do things like this."
"Maybe it's time you started." He leans closer, and I catch his scent, sawdust and something clean and masculine that makes my head spin. "Maybe it's time you did something just for you."
