Page 4 of Burning for the Mountain Man
Shouldn’t have said that. Curiosity meant more questions, and I was no good at answering them.
“I’ve got a cabin up in the mountains. Do odd jobs.”
“That sounds nice. Peaceful.”
Peaceful. Sure. Lonely was another word, but I wasn’t about to hand that to a stranger.
“It works for me.”
The unit hummed to life, warm air spilling from the vents. I packed my tools, careful not to notice how close she’d moved—close enough that I could feel the heat from her body.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “You’re a lifesaver. I thought I was going to freeze in here.”
I turned, instantly regretting it. She stood right there, looking up at me with those impossible eyes. For half a heartbeat, I let myself imagine cupping her face, seeing if her skin felt as soft as it looked.
Reality hit hard. My scarred hands. My busted hearing. Me, the handyman. Her, everything I wasn’t.
“Just doing my job,” I said gruffly, stepping back.
Something flickered across her face—disappointment? No. Couldn’t be. Women like her didn’t get disappointed when men like me kept their distance.
“Well, thank you anyway.” She held out her hand. “Nice meeting you, Wilder.”
I stared at it a beat too long. When was the last time someone had offered to shake my hand? Looked at me like I was worth knowing?
I reached out. Her skin was warm, soft, exactly like I’d imagined. For a heartbeat we stayed like that, caught in a moment neither of us had planned. Then she smiled—an unguarded smile that loosened something tight in my chest.
“Nice meeting you too, Sage.”
I let go, gathered my tools, and headed for the door, heart hammering like I’d just defused a live bomb. Maybe I had. Because Sage with the green eyes and soft accent felt dangerous in a way I wasn’t built for anymore.
At the door, I paused, looked back. She was still watching me, expression unreadable.
“Enjoy your stay,” I said.
“I will.” She hesitated. “Will I see you around?”
The hopeful note in her voice nearly undid me. “Maybe,” I said, though every instinct screamed to stay away.
I left before I could do something stupid, like ask her to grab coffee or see the town. Because the last thing either of us needed was for me to start believing in things that didn’t happen.
But as I walked down the hallway, I couldn’t shake the image of her smile or the way she’d said my name like it meant something.
For the first time in three years, “maybe” felt like it could turn into “yes.”
3
SAGE
Wilder was right. My friend chose well.
Blade was a solid guy—handsome, grounded, and absolutely head over heels for my best friend. That last part was all that really mattered.
Still, as I climbed into my sedan and pulled away from the restaurant, a wave of loneliness crept in, sharp and unexpected. It wasn’t just that my best friend’s hangouts were officially over, or that most of our old crew had scattered to new cities. It was the realization—sudden, crushing—that no one had ever looked at me the way Blade looked at Sienna.
And maybe no one ever would.
I thought of the handyman as I pulled into the parking lot. The handyman. The one who’d seen me wrapped in nothing but a towel and somehow made it feel like I was the one who’d intruded. Wilder. The one who’d been right about Blade.
