Page 5 of Her Mountain Man Protector
“Just moved in,” he explains. “Still got some unpacking to do.”
I nod, unsure of what to say. All I can do is stand awkwardly in my wedding dress, avoiding Holden’s gaze. Nothing about this situation is normal. There’s no guidebook for what to say whena hot mountain man invites you into his cabin a few hours after you bolted from the altar.
“So…” Holden says after a few beats of silence, frowning at me. “Bad day?”
The question catches me off guard and I laugh—an ugly, snorting belly laugh. I can’t remember the last time I laughed. It feels good.
“Yeah,” I say eventually. “You could say that.”
Holden nods, considering me for a moment longer before gesturing to an overstuffed armchair by the fireplace. I sit down, watching as he rekindles the fire until flames are roaring in the hearth. Delicious warmth washes over me, and I sigh contentedly.
“Thank you, Holden,” I say as he takes a seat in the armchair opposite me. “For not telling the cops.”
“Don’t mention it.” He cocks his head. “You wanna tell me what happened?”
“There isn’t much to tell. I was meant to get married today, but I couldn’t go through with it. So I ran away.” I decide not to elaborate on the details. This handsome stranger doesn’t need to hear about my family drama.
“They must be worried about you…the people at the wedding.”
Guilt sticks in my throat at his words. My parents will be furious, not worried. My groom couldn’t care less where I am. But Grace…she’ll be worried. Really worried. I wish I had some way of contacting her, but even if Holden lets me borrow his phone, I don’t know her number off by heart. Neither of us is on social media—our parents insist it’s tacky. There’s nothing I can do to let her know I’m safe. I’ve already let her down by not marrying Julian, and now I’m making her worry about me.
Tears bubble up before I can stop them, and a sob escapes my throat. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I was laughing a minute ago, and now all I want to do is curl up and cry.
“Hey,” Holden says, reaching out to rest a hand on my arm. “It’s okay. You’re safe. That’s what matters.”
I nod, stuttering through my tears. “I’m s-sorry. You don’t even know me, and I b-broke into your shed, and now I’m c-crying in your living room.”
“You don’t need to be sorry.” He lets out a deep sigh, running a hand over his beard as he looks at me. “I’m glad you ended up in my shed, Mila. You could have died out in the woods, wandering around at night in the cold in nothing but that dress.”
He’s right. Ending up in Holden’s shed was a stroke of luck, the silver lining in an ugly gray cloud of a day. I suck in a breath and pull myself together, smiling at Holden through my drying tears. “Thank you. I’m so lucky it was you who found me.”
He shrugs off the praise. “Look, why don’t I fix you something to eat? You can take a shower, get out of that dress…” The suggestion hangs in the air between us before he adds, “I can find you something else to wear. A t-shirt.”
I get the sudden urge to leap out of my armchair and wrap Holden in a tight hug. I want to melt against his giant frame, warm and protected. It’s a crazy thought. He’s a total stranger—twice my age and not exactly the cuddly type. But being with him makes me feel safe. Like nothing can touch me as long as this giant mountain man is here. I’m so used to living my life on edge, trying to please my parents and do everything right. But here in Holden’s living room, curled up by the fire, my parents feel so far away.
“That would be incredible,” I tell him warmly. “Thank you so much.”
He doesn’t waste a second. He gets up and returns a minute later with an enormous t-shirt. I’m a big girl with thick curves, but even on me it would probably reach past my knees.
“Not exactly a wedding dress,” he says as he hands it to me, “but I hope it will do.”
“It’s perfect.” I hug the t-shirt to my chest, resisting the urge to bury my face in it and breathe in Holden’s masculine scent. “Trust me, this is way better than any wedding dress right now.”
He shows me to the bathroom, but just as he’s about to leave, I realize something.
“Could you unzip the back for me?” I ask, heat rising to my cheeks. “I won’t be able to get it off otherwise.”
He makes a noise of assent deep in his throat, moving to stand behind me. He’s so close I can feel his body heat warming my back. His fingers reach for the zipper, brushing against my bare skin in a way that makes me shudder as he slowly unzips the dress down to my lower back. I can feel his eyes burning into me, and my breath catches. For a second, we don’t move, frozen in place.
“Thanks,” I say softly.
“You’re welcome.” Then the moment falters and I feel Holden step back from me. “Better go get started on the food. You want anything in particular?”
“A sandwich would be great. Any kind. I’m easy.”
“On it,” Holden grunts. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
I thank him again. Then, once he’s gone, I close the bathroom door behind me and peel off my wedding dress with a sigh of relief. It’s been weighing me down all day, suffocating me in silk and lace, and I feel my whole body relax as I step into the shower, letting the hot water rush over me. I use Holden’s shampoo, lathering it in my hair, savoring the scent. It smells like him—fresh and masculine—and I inhale deeply.
