Page 22 of Eco-Activist's Mountain Men
"It’s never happened to me before. Not like this." I shift in my seat, fighting the itch for a cigarette. I gave them up years ago, but Christ, this would be the moment. "I’ve been with plenty of women in my time. But I’ve never met anyone who—how can I say it? I’ve never met a girl I looked at and just… smitten. You know, ‘love at first sight,’ like in those old movies. I always thought it was bullshit.
"I’ve done okay. You know that. If we hit town on a Friday night, I can usually find a willing girl if I put in the effort." I glance at Luke for confirmation. He nods. I go on.
"But when I came across Luna, lying there asleep in the bed… it was like a dream. A revelation. A vision. Don’t laugh at me, Luke. That’s how it felt. Like God had sent me an angel. All these years, I’ve gotten by with one-night stands, but never anything more. Never anything that meant something. Never the one. You get me?"
Luke sips his bourbon. "I hear you, boss."
"I know it’s ridiculous. How old is she—twenty-one? Twenty-two?"
"Twenty-four. Saw it on her license."
"Right. And I’m forty-seven. Old enough to be her father. Hell, I’d have been in the Rangers in Afghanistan. Operation Enduring Freedom. They sent us to seize a Taliban airfield, code-named Rhino. Joint Special Forces deployment."
I take another swallow. The whiskey burns, but I welcome it.
"Jesus, that was a shitshow, Luke. No one there. Couple of goats, that was it. Command spun it as a victory, propaganda gold. Reality? A total waste of time and lives. Two of my buddies died in a chopper crash. A senseless accident. All for a strip of dirt nobody even wanted. Still haunts me."
I drain the rest of my glass, set it down too hard, then grab the bottle again. Tilt it toward Luke. He holds out his tumbler. I refill both. The warmth dulls the hollow ache I’ve carried for years without naming.
"So anyway, there I was, in the medi-bay, staring at her. Angelic, delicate, beautiful. And I swear to God, I heard a voice in my head. Said: This is it, Jack. This is the one you’ve been waiting for. She’s been sent to rescue you, and you to rescue her. That’s what it felt like. That’s the truth."
My story trails off into silence. I look away, not wanting Luke to see my eyes.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. Just bourbon and silence. Then Luke clears his throat. I glance at him. And to my shock, the giant has moisture glinting in both eyes.
"Shit, boss—Jack. I had no idea. I’m sorry, man. You’re the man. Ever since I started, you’ve been there. Remember the Columbia River site? Old-growth forests, managed land? First site I worked. You were there."
I nod, remembering.
"Maybe you don’t realize it, but you saved me. Back then, I was a mess. Drinking too much. Gambling. Fighting. And nobody had the guts to call me on it. Nobody except you. You pulled me aside, told me the truth. Made me listen. That talk changed my life. I swear, if you hadn’t stepped in, I’d be dead or in jail right now."
He knocks back his whiskey, holds out his glass. I refill it with a hand that’s not steady anymore.
"Way I see it," he goes on, "I owe you my life. Always have. And I ain’t the only one. We all saw how you helped the Clifford twins when nobody else would. I’ve heard plenty of stories—guys saying how you set them straight. Anywhere I go, if I say I work with Jack James and his brother Toby, nine times outta ten, people got a story about you.
"You don’t see it, boss. But you’re a catch. For any woman. Trouble is, you don’t let ’em in. You're still living like you’re in a warzone, treating women like the enemy. You gotta lower your defenses, Jack. You gotta let someone in."
He finishes his glass, stands. His eyes are shining. His voice is steady now.
"Everyone deserves love, Jack. And you most of all. Where you’ll find it—that’s on you. But when you do, you can’t shut her out. You gotta let her in."
And with that, he heads for the door, leaving me half-drunk, dazed, and entirely turned inside out.
I stare at the half-empty bourbon bottle.
This definitely calls for another drink.
CHAPTER 9
Luna
This place is driving me crazy.
I've been here a week now, with pretty much one set of clothes, no cellphone signal, no Internet, not even television, and four stupid mountain men for company.
Well, okay, if I'm honest, that's not quite true.
Little Eric is lovely. He's so sweet and kind, and clever too—I mean, really clever. He's not exactly a mountain man; he's a proper scientist, doing real research into things that matter. He's also very beautiful. Not rugged or powerful, but attractive in a different way—more Leonardo DiCaprio than Clint Eastwood. I love his messy ginger hair that makes me want to run my fingers through it—and his freckles are so cute.
