Page 2 of Romancing the Mountain Man
The wind howls outside, and it’s getting a bit darker than before. I decide to light the fireplace to take the chill out of the air, but no matter what I do, I can’t get it to stay lit. I’ve watched my dad light more than my share of campfires, so I’m pretty sure there is something wrong with the airflow from the chimney. Maybe it's even blocked. I place a call to the front office, and Audrey picks up. I tell her my problem, and she says she’ll send the maintenance man right away. I settle in and wait because if it’s anything like the city, it will be tomorrow before he shows.
Chapter 2
Quinn
Two loud knocks on the cabin door have me jumping from the couch. I peek out the window and can only see a flannel shirt—a rather large one. It must be the maintenance man, so I open the door, and my breath is stolen from me. The man standing on my porch looks like he just walked straight out of a survivalist calendar. Broad shoulders under a flannel jacket, worn jeans, and a thick beard that normally would have me looking the other way, have me staring way too long. His eyes, a cool storm-gray, give me a quick once-over before narrowing.
“Quinn Murphy?”
I blink. “Depends. Are you a woodsman or a wolf?”
He doesn’t smile, obviously not liking my joke. He just lifts his toolbox and says, “I’m here to fix your fireplace.”
The line “I carried a watermelon” from my favorite movie, Dirty Dancing, echoes his basic line in my mind, and I stifle a giggle. I swear to myself to hold onto this moment because Mariella will never believe it.
“Oh, yes, come on in. I’m so glad you’re here. It’s getting dark, and Audrey said there was going to be a storm, so I don't want to look like a popsicle come morning if I can’t get this lit.” I give him my best grin, but he doesn’t bite. He just steps around me and walks to the fireplace.
I stand there stunned at his rudeness, but the smell of pine that lingers after him has me following close behind. As he kneels beside the fireplace, I realize I’m standing directly over him. I shake my head and move to the side.
“I didn't catch your name.”
“I didn’t give it.”
Whoa. Well, besides being hot as fuck, that’s all this guy has going for him.
“Maybe I should call Audrey and make sure you're really the maintenance man and not some murderer who lives in the woods attacking unsuspecting women.”
Silence.
“You don’t talk much, huh?” I ask, beginning to feel a little weird. I talk constantly, maybe it’s because if I’m not talking, I’m writing or I’m hearing scenes in my head. There's always some kind of answer, whether it's me giving it or another person answering.
“Nope.”
“Well, I guess you picked the right line of work then. You and fire—neither talks back yet both hot as fuck.”
He looks up at me then, and I see a quick twitch of his lips.Score.I sit on the couch and watch him reach up into the chimney with a pole.
“You here on vacation?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.
“Sort of. I’m a writer and found my creativity was lacking. Then I found my boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend, was lacking in the loyalty department, so I gave his ass the boot, found this cabin, and now I’m here for a week on a self-imposed exile. Mytherapist called it a sabbatical. I call it running to the middle of nowhere so I don’t end up in orange after chopping his dick off.”
He turns to me, eyes slightly wider than before, and I meet him with a giant grin. Mariella calls it my toothpaste commercial smile. I’m sure I look crazy, and maybe I am, but that twinkle in his eye means I’m getting through.
Victory.
I’m sure he knows I'm kidding. Sort of.
“Built-in stone fireplaces are a thing of the past outside the mountains. Most folks from the city don’t know what to do with them.”
“City folk, huh?” I croon. “You can smell us a mile away, can’t you?”
He doesn’t reply. He just strikes a match and throws it to the kindling. In seconds, the wood catches and heat begins to spread while the flames grow larger.
“You always this friendly?” I press.
He stands, brushing his hands on his jeans before locking his toolbox. “Only when I’m fixing things that don’t talk back.”
“Oh, so Iamthe wolf’s dinner,” I tease him.
