Page 74 of Single Mom's Mountain Men
“What are you going to do?” I quip. “Boss them away?”
“I’ll exorcise them,” he says with no trace of humor. “I’ll do whatever I need to do to make sure they stay dead, and to give you some peace.”
My heart races faster, emotion clogging my throat.
Oh God. Why does he say the most perfect things? I need to get out of here before I make a mistake.
"I'll make you some eggnog," I say standing. "That should help you sleep."
The rest of the week passes in much the same way with a few notable differences. I’ve started making Mitch eggnog each evening, as well as nagging him to go to bed an hour earlier than normal. He argued against the latter vehemently, but after I proved to be as hard-headed as he was, he eventually began relenting.
I also offered him a massage once, to help him relax, but his eyes darkened beyond belief and he shook his head.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said in a voice thick with desire. The same desire that rushed through me at the thought of my hands all over his gorgeous body.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I choked out and then got out of there as fast as I could.
In any case, I hoped the eggnog was helping him sleep peacefully. But I also spent my free time on Charlie’s computer, searching for therapists in the area, who had experience with military vets and PTSD. They also had to be okay with virtual meetings, because I doubt Mitch will want to drive out of town however many times a week to see them. I start making a short list and once I’m done I’ll begin making calls to see who’s available.
The truly difficult part is going to be convincing Mitch to honor the appointment, but I’ll just have to put my foot down and nag him until he does it.
Still, I silently make it my mission to somehow get Mitch to relax. It's going to be a process but I'm not going to stop until I succeed.
"I'll make you some eggnog," I say to start with. "That should help you sleep."
The next day, when I go in to pick my girls up from daycare, Mrs. Weatherby meets me at the reception.
"Hey." She smiles. "I was hoping to run into you. Can we talk in my office for a second?"
"Sure," I respond, curious as to what she has to say to me. I follow her to her disorganized office, a small space with a brown fabric couch shoved in the corner and books haphazardly thrown onto it.
"I wanted to run something by you." She gets straight to the point as she closes the door behind her. "I'm friends with Sheriff Good."
I immediately stiffen, sensing where this conversation might be going. "You didn't..."
She holds up her hand. "Of course not. I gave you my word that I wouldn't divulge your secret and I've kept it. But I think you should talk to him."
"No." I shake my head. "I can't."
"What if your husband finds you?" she asks. "What if he tracks you down here? Sheriff Good can keep an eye on things, and he'll be the first one to know if anyone new arrives in town."
"He's not coming after me." The last I searched, Keegan was in police custody, no bail granted.
They were still investigating but I was sure it would be over soon.
"I'm good," I tell her. "Trust me."
The woman stares at me for a few minutes and then releases a sigh. "Alright. For your sake, I hope you're right."
I nod, not giving voice to the apprehension lacing through me. I hope I’m right too.
“So,” she continues in a significantly lighter tone. “How is everything? With the men that is?”
Immediately, a rush of red fills my face. The question was asked innocently enough that I don’t think she meant anything sordid by it, but it instantly brings to mind all the filthy things I’ve been doing with Charlie and Wes, and the heart thumping feelings all three men induce.
Also, my recent realization that I’m dangerously close to falling in love with them.
“It’s fine,” I squeak out hoping that would be end of it, but Mrs. Weatherby catches on, a wicked smile filling her face.
