Page 23 of Mountain Man's Valentine
And she pulls away from me after a moment.
“This is nice,” she mewls, her pretty eyes lost in thought.
She throws her arms around my neck, and I melt.
“If you need anything at all,” I start, moving my hands along her back, under her shirt, burying my face in her neck, “anything, you just tell me.”
“Okay,” she says, popping up. “How about telling me why you’re all alone up here?”
My heart stings when she says the word.Alone. Because she isright. I was alone. For too long.
“I like the privacy,” I say, pushing a few strands of hair behind her ears. “I like the solitude. I run my business from here. It’s easy to work from home with what I do.”
“And what do you do, anyway?”
“It’s boring,” I start. “It’s a tech thing. A website that hospitals use.”
She perks up inquisitively, like she wants to know more but doesn’t know what questions to ask.
“That doesn’t sound boring at all,” she says. “What’s the website do?”
I clear my throat and stand up with her, taking her hand into mine. Her delicate, sweet fingers slip between mine.
“It’s really not that interesting,” I say again. “It aids hospitals in coordinating with each other. Not much more to it.”
“Thatdoessound interesting,” she says, playfully swatting at my chest. “You sound like a freaking hero to me.”
“I’m not,” I say, guiding her from the couch and into the kitchen just behind the living room. I glance out the window again and take in the view. It reallyissomething.
It’s pretty out there beyond these walls, beyond the glass.
“It’s not like I’m a total recluse,” I say, “I have a lot of folks calling me at all hours of the day and night. That’s the problem with running a business that operates in multiple time zones. You have to beontwenty four-seven.”
“Do you get much leisure time?” she asks. “Like, what do you do for fun?”
“Let’s see,” I say, pulling her toward me by her waist. “I know what Iwantto do for fun.”
She sighs as I lean down, showering her lips with tender, slow kisses.
I pull away from her and guide her into the kitchen. My main living area of my house is open-concept; I did that on purpose because I wanted to be able to see outside from any place in my home. I didn’t want a lot of wall erected. I didn’t want to obstruct my view of the damn sheerbeautyof the wild land I live on.
“This isreallynice,” she says, looking around the kitchen. “Beats my little microwave.”
“No hot pot?” I say.
“No,” she says, laughing, “those are a strictly verboten item in the dorms.”
“You asked what I like to do for fun. One of the things I like to do is cook. I don’t do it enough. But I love to do it. And you have to eat. So what would you like me to make?”
“Ohh,” she says, rubbing her hands together. “Why don’t you make me yourfavoritedish?”
“Hope you don’t mind that I’m vegetarian,” I say.
“Youare?” she says, perking up. “I thought you big guys are all about your protein and stuff. Steaks. Chops. All that stuff.”
“Some are,” I say, taking a few necessary pots and pans from the metal rack over the center island. “One of my neighbors up here actually raises cattle. It’s hard to do in the mountains, but he makes it work. I have a drink with him once a week at the bar and he tells me about the trials and tribulations of being a small business owner. He picks my brain sometimes. And there are others up here, organic farmers who raise chickens and hens. Lots of people here work the land and live off of it. Sometimes that involves raising livestock.”
“Sorry, the part I’m stuck on isneighbor. I didn’t see any other houses around here, like, at all.”
