Page 7 of Romancing the Mountain Man
I look at him, surprised. “You haven’t read anything I’ve written.”
“Nope. Don’t need to. I can tell.”
I grin to myself. “What about you? Why’d you come all the way up here?”
Luke stares into the flames. I almost think he won’t answer, but then he begins talking.
“I did four years in the Army. I didn't reenlist because my dad was sick, so I came home to take care of him. A few months later, he passed. I didn’t know what to do after that. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t sit still. I thought maybe if I got far enough away from where I was, I’d figure out how to live again.”
“And did you?”
He exhales. “I like the quiet up here, but it gets lonely.”
Silence settles around us before I reach over, tapping my mug to his. “Cheers to not being alone tonight.”
He doesn’t respond but doesn’t pull back either, which I consider a win. The fire crackles again, louder this time. I think it’s the wood shifting, but it also feels like the mood shifted in the room.
Luke doesn’t say a word; he just holds his mug close, fingers brushing the rim like he’s thinking hard about something he won’t say aloud. I wonder if he regrets saying anything at all. That kind of honesty with someone you don’t know can’t come easy.
I shift a little closer, careful not to make a big deal out of it. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” I say quietly. “How sitting quietly with some people comes easy.”
He glances at me, then drops his eyes again. “I don’t usually do this,” he says.
“What, talk?”
He huffs out a breath. “No, sit with someone like this.”
“Well,” I say, trying to keep my voice light, even though my heart is suddenly pounding a little harder, “lucky for you, I’m incredibly easy to be around.”
A ghost of a smirk plays on his lips. “That so?”
“Absolutely. I’m a writer. I listen and think of every way I can use your words later.”
He laughs. “Oh, great. Just what I want to hear.”
I shrug. “I need a romance resurrection, and you, mountain man, are giving it to me.”
He laughs, the sound coming more easily from him.
“Not sure that’s me, but you can try,” he says.
We fall into silence again, but it’s comforting. Outside, the wind rattles the edge of the roof, the trees groan in the distance, but inside, we’ve got a bigger storm brewing.
Chapter 7
Luke
The power cut out sometime around midnight.
We were still up talking, and though I was tired, I knew she was nervous, so I sat up with her. One second, the fridge was humming and the small lamp was lit, and the next, the cabin went silent and completely dark. The wind howled outside like it was that wolf she dubbed me, and the rain pelted the windows in no particular rhythm. The cabin was fighting the gusts of wind but would stand through it.
Quinn’s sharp intake of breath echoed loudly throughout the room.
“It’s just the storm,” I say calmly as she burrows under the blanket she’s sitting with. I get up and flip the generator on. It rumbles low and struggles to take hold, but within a minute, the fridge is back on.
“Turn off the lamp. We don’t want the generator to work too hard.” She gets up quickly, flipping the light off, and grabs the candle that was on the end table, fumbling for the matches. I whip out the lighter from my pocket and have it lit before she can move away from the table.
The darkness of the cabin makes it seem smaller than it is.
