Page 1 of Enticed by the Mountain Man
Chapter one
Maeve
By the time I make it to the top of the winding road, my knuckles are locked around the steering wheel, and my stomach feels like it’s tangled in knots. The gravel crunches beneath the tires of my borrowed Subaru as I pull into the clearing. It’s quiet here. The air is cool, carrying the scent of pine and earth, and everything feels the same as I remember.
The cabin looks like it belongs to the woods, solid, tucked behind tall trees, unbothered by time or the world below. I’ve only been here once before, but I remember how it made me feel then. Safe. Far away from everything. I need that again.
I kill the engine, take a breath, and step out. The slam of the car door feels too loud in the silence, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Instead, I walk toward the porch, my boots crunching over fallen leaves. The door creaks open before I reach it.
Graham Hawthorne fills the doorway. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and looking like I caught him in the middle of something. His jeans are worn, his T-shirt stretched over muscles I shouldn’t be noticing. His jaw tightens when he sees me.
“Maeve,” he says, his voice low and gruff. “You made good time.”
“I drove straight through.”
His gaze scans my face, then slides over my shoulders and down to the backpack slung across one. I know I must look wrecked. I’ve barely slept, too much caffeine, and not enough of anything else. My fingers tighten on the strap.
“You eat?”
I blink. “What?”
“Have you eaten anything healthy?” he repeats. “Or did you just live off gas station coffee again?”
That pulls a half-smile from me. “You remember that?”
“Hard to forget. You got the shakes so bad last time, I thought I’d have to carry you up the stairs.”
I shrug, trying to keep the smile there. “If I remember right, it didn’t seem like you minded carrying me too much.”
He doesn’t answer that. Just steps back and nods me inside.
The cabin smells like cedar and clean laundry. Graham’s place is exactly how I remembered it, orderly, masculine, worn in like a favorite sweatshirt. He shuts the door behind me.
“Connor said you’d be coming tomorrow.”
“I didn’t want to wait.” I slide my bag off and set it on the floor. “Things were... escalating.”
His brow furrows, but he nods. “Connor told me you needed a break from the city. Are you staying until he’s back?”
I nod. “That okay?”
“I told him it was.”
Right, of course he did. Connor trusts Graham. Has for years. They served together before Connor shifted to a different division. I grew up hearing Graham’s name more times than I can count, but I didn’t meet him until I was nineteen. That summer, when I visited Connor on leave, Graham had been there too. He was older, quiet, all gruff edges and short answers.
When he retired from the military, he bought this cabin in the town we used to vacation in. Connor said they had come here once, and Graham had loved the calm, small-town feel.
“You want to explain to me why you're running away from your life?”
I let out a breath and sink into the worn armchair by the fireplace. “I’m not running.”
He raises a brow.
“I’m just... avoiding some things. Some people.”
His arms cross over his chest. “Like who?”
“An ex.” I look down at my hands. “We only dated for a few months, but it ended badly. He didn’t take it well, and then he started showing up at places. My job. My gym. I even moved apartments, and he showed up there.”
