Page 10 of Her Mountain Man Neighbor
“The hell are you doing out here in this weather?” he asks, his deep voice booming over the sound of the storm.
“I could ask you the same thing!” I have to shout to be heard.
“Came to check you’re all doing okay. Power’s down.” Lucian runs a hand through his wet hair, frowning at the darkened cabin. “Where’s Holden? His generator not working?”
I quickly explain the situation—the flooded road, the lack of matches, and how I was just about to walk to his cabin for safety. Lucian’s frown deepens with every word.
“The hell were they thinking, leaving you alone out here with no matches?” he mutters angrily to himself. Before I can say anything to defend them, he’s already ushering me to his truck, opening the passenger side door for me. “Get in. Heating’s on.”
Lucian’s truck feels like sinking into a warm bath. It smells like him, like pine and something else I can’t put my finger on—smoky and autumnal. I drink it in hungrily, looking over atLucian as he climbs into the driver’s seat. He seems to take up the whole truck with his broad shoulders, his giant hands clasping the steering wheel as he drives us away from Holden’s cabin. As it disappears behind us, I feel a buzz of excitement growing inside me.
I’m spending the night at Lucian’s cabin.
It shouldn’t excite me this much. I know it means nothing. He’s just being neighborly and helping me out of a tight spot…again. But still, the thought of spending the night under the same roof as this gorgeous mountain man sends a jolt between my thighs—something raw and needy. Something I definitely shouldn’t be feeling about a man twice my age.
Something that’s already way too far gone to ignore.
6
LUCIAN
I won’t pretendthat I’m usually this damn neighborly. Storms hit Cherry Mountain all the time, and when they do, I just assume my fellow mountain men can fend for themselves. But as rain battered against my windows and the lights flickered out, my mind went straight to Grace. By the time my backup generator whirred to life, I was already halfway out the door. I had to make sure she was safe.
When I arrived to find her cowering beneath the porch, her eyes squinting against the force of the wind, I felt it again—that fierce urge to protect her. Keep her safe. I’m pissed off that she was left in such a dangerous position in the first place. She should never have been left alone without matches in this weather. Power can cut out. Backup generators can die. Shit happens. Holden should know that. Fuck, if I hadn’t decided to check on her, Grace would be trekking through a storm right now trying to reach my cabin.
“I’d better call my sister,” Grace says from beside me. “She’ll want to know I’m okay.”
I grunt in response, watching in my peripheral vision as she lifts the phone to her ear.
“Mila?” she says after a few moments. “Hi! Yes, I’m okay.” I listen as Grace briefly explains the situation to her sister, raising her voice over the rain hitting my truck. After she ends the call, I feel her gaze on the side of my face.
“All okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Mila and Holden have booked a hotel in town. They’re hoping the road will be dry by tomorrow so they can come back home. Are you sure you don’t mind if I stay the night?”
“I’m sure. I’ll make up the guestroom when we get back to mine.”
Back to mine…
Grace is coming back to my place. Spending the night under my roof. I know it doesn’t mean anything—she’s only staying because she has to. But all the same, I feel my heart rate quicken in anticipation.
“Thank you, Lucian,” she says with a sigh. “I’m really sorry about this. It feels like you’re always having to rescue me from something or other.”
“Don’t mention it.” I shrug. “Just part of living up here.”
I never manage to say what I mean around Grace. But the truth is, I like “rescuing” her. Taking care of her. Hell, it’s something I take very seriously, even though we only just met. Keeping her safe feels like a priority, a privilege, not some kind of chore I have to put up with as “part of living up here.” But how could I ever explain that to her without sounding like a fucking crazy person?
“Well, all I know is I’m super lucky to have you as a neighbor,” Grace says. “I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done. Thank you.”
Fuck, does she have to be so damn sweet?
“You’re welcome.”
It comes out gruff and forced-sounding. Hell, all I ever manage around her are grunts and monosyllables. There’s somuch I’m holding back. So much I want to say to her. It bubbles inside me, churning with the force of a river, but I keep it inside—building a dam between us. I need to keep it sealed tight before I lose control completely.
Remember what you told yourself.
She’s too young. Too sweet. Too good for you.
