Page 7 of Single Mom's Mountain Men
A wistful feeling pricks me.
I've always wanted to live somewhere like this, surrounded by nature. But unfortunately, I grew up in a concrete jungle and had no real means of getting out of it till now.
Rounding yet another bend, I am immediately drawn to something glinting in the sun. It looks like a car parked on the side of the road, except it has no tires and its paint has faded from blue to near-gray. As I continue, more and more cars come into view, mostly parked on the side of the road and in various states of disrepair. In the distance, I see some more modern-looking heavy-duty logging equipment parked up, interspersed between large piles of timber, seemingly arranged and tied together for a purpose and then abandoned just like the vehicles.
Looks like we're here. Thank God. I don’t know what I’m going to find here, but the gas station attendant said the Norris brothers were good guys. They’re likely not going to let me get murdered or kidnapped on their property, at the very least, for the mere inconvenience it would cause them. Even if that really is one of my ex's men behind us.
I glance at the vehicle still in my rearview. I've never seen that truck amongst any of Keegan's enforcers. Maybe it’s just paranoia and lack of sleep speaking.
But when I slow my car to a stop and his follows suit,also slowing to a stop a little way behind me, my panic begins to rise again.
Maybe there's a wanted poster out already. Maybe Keegan got the cops to believe that I was somehow complicit and now they're looking for me. Maybe that guy recognized me back at the store and is planning on a citizen’s arrest. That’s the only reason I can think of for him glaring at me and then following me all the way here.
And to think I thought he was handsome. I should have known. The most handsome men always turn out to be the biggest assholes.
Although, if he’s doing a citizen’s arrest then maybe he's not a bad guy. He probably just thinks he’s doing the right thing. In which case I just need to explain things to him, get him to see that I'm innocent in all this.
In any case, I’ll still have to confront him.
“Stay here, girls,” I say and maybe they can sense my tension because they nod without saying anything else. With my splintered thoughts and a racing heartbeat, I get out of the car and approach the man, knocking on his car window.
He glances up at me and slowly winds it down. Once again, I’m struck by his good looks, even though this is probably a terrible time to notice that he has naturally sultry eyes.
Bedroom eyes, my mother used to call them.
Bedroom lips too, plump and kissable
Stop that, I think. I’m way too tired to be this horny. Although maybe that’s why I’m so horny. I’ve not been horny in a while, though I lost the ability to feel those things after being with my ex for so long. But now I see where I went wrong. I was surrounded by an insulting jerk and his cruel subordinates.
But this mountain man certainly has a fire starting inside me
“Why are you following me?” I cough to clear my throat after I speak, noting how crackly my voice is.
He blinks at me. “I’m following you?"
I raise an eyebrow. Who does he think he’s fooling? “I saw you at the gas station and now you’re here. Somehow I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
A crooked upturn of his lips shows a hint of a dimple on his cheek. Oh God, he’s hot as hellandhe has a dimple. Lord have mercy.
“It kinda is,” he replies. “Considering I live here.”
That simple statement stuns me speechless for several seconds. Fortunately, he doesn’t say anything, leaving me time for the wheels to turn in my head.
“You do?”
“Yup.” He nods. “I’m Charlie. Charlie Norris.”
Norris as in ‘The Norris brothers?
“Oh God.” I can feel the heat spread across my features, as my hand goes over my mouth. My horrified voice is muffled. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Norris. That was very rude of me.”
"No worries.” A click at his door has me stepping back as he climbs out of the car, stretching far above my head once again. Lord, he is a large man, nearly blocking out the entire sun with his frame. “And don’t call me Mr. Norris please, that was my dad. Just Charlie is fine.”
“Alright, Charlie.” I want to wring my hands from the sheer embarrassment of it all. “Still, I want to apologize for accusing you of following me. I’m sorry, I’m not usually so confrontational. It’s just been a hard couple of days.”
Jesus, don’t tell him that. What if he starts asking questions?
I wouldn't have said it if I were thinking clearly. I shouldn’t be having a conversation with anyone when I’m inthis state of tiredness and anxiety. My brain is both too slow and too quick, I’m a jittery mess and I’m pretty sure that anyone who sees me can tell that I’m about two seconds away from either breaking down or passing out.
