Page 6 of Pretending with the Mountain Man
Before I can correct him, Melody's hand covers mine on the table. "I'll have a gin and tonic," she says, her fingers intertwining with mine in a clear message to play along. "And my fiancé will have bourbon. Neat."
"Coming right up," the server says with a smile.
When he leaves, Melody doesn't release my hand. "Just until we're sure it's safe," she says quietly. "Please?"
Something protective and possessive uncurls in my chest. "Whatever you need."
Her answering smile makes my heart rate kick up. I'm in dangerous territory. But as Melody's thumb traces small circles on my palm, I can't bring myself to pull away.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For playing along. For finding me."
"Always," I reply before I can stop myself.
That’s a promise I have no business making but can't seem to take back as her eyes hold mine across the table.
My phone buzzes with a text from Jake.
Jake:Security in place. Safe to move her to the cabin whenever you're ready.
I text back one-handed,unwilling to break contact with Melody.
Me: En route in 15.
Tonight isabout getting her safely to the cabin. Tomorrow I'll deal with the complication of being her fake fiancé. And the even bigger complication of wanting it to be real.
CHAPTER THREE
MELODY
Ican't stop staring at Malik's hands. Strong, capable hands now wrapped around the steering wheel of his Jeep as we wind through the darkness toward his cabin. The same hands that held mine at Forbidden Chains, that rested protectively at my waist, that made me feel safer than I have in months.
"You okay?" he asks, his deep voice filling the space between us.
"Fine," I lie, turning to look out the window at the thick forest passing by. "Just embarrassed about the whole fiancé thing. I panicked."
"Don't be embarrassed." His voice remains calm, measured. "You needed an out. I was there."
The casual way he dismisses it should make me feel better. Instead, it stings a little. Like I'm just another responsibility. Sage's friend who needs protecting.
"Still," I say, "I'm sure pretending to be engaged to someone my age isn't how you planned to spend your evening."
The Jeep slows as we turn onto a narrow dirt road. "Is that what you think this is about? Your age?"
I risk a glance at his profile, strong and imposing in the dashboard lights. "Isn't it? I'm twenty-six. You're..."
"Forty-eight," he supplies, a hint of challenge in his tone. "Old enough to be your father. That what you're getting at?"
Heat rushes to my face. "I just meant you probably have better things to do than rescue me."
"I'm exactly where I need to be." The finality in his voice ends that line of conversation.
We drive in silence for another few minutes before the trees part, revealing a small cabin nestled against the mountainside. Solar lights illuminate a stone pathway leading to a covered porch. It's rustic but beautifully maintained, with large windows reflecting the moonlight.
"Home sweet home," Malik says, killing the engine. "At least temporarily."
He insists on checking the perimeter before letting me inside, his security training evident in the methodical way he surveys the property. I wait in the Jeep, watching him move through the shadows with predatory grace. The man is a contradiction, I realize. Gentle in his concern but dangerous in his capability.
"All clear," he says, opening my door. "Let's get you inside."
