Page 3 of Burning for the Mountain Man
“Sorry about that,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I wasn’t expecting anyone so soon.”
I didn’t turn. Didn’t trust myself.
“No problem,” I said.
“Is it fixable?”
I held up the filter. “Just needed cleaning. This thing’s been choking for months.”
“Oh.” She moved closer. The scent of vanilla and something warm drifted from her. “That doesn’t look good.”
Mistake number one—I glanced over. Jeans, cream-colored sweater clinging in the right places, damp hair in dark waves around her shoulders. Those eyes—green, flecked with gold—watching me like I was an actual person, not just the hired help.
My throat went dry. “I’ll get you a new filter. This one’s done for.”
“Thank you.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m Sage, by the way.”
“Wilder.”
“Wilder.” She tested the name on her tongue. “That’s a great name.”
I grunted and bent over the vent, grateful for the excuse. Most people thought my name was a joke. My army buddies had called me Wild, back when I’d been bulletproof.
“Are you from here?” she asked.
“Been here a few years.” I flicked on my phone’s flashlight. “You?”
“Just visiting. My best friend moved here recently for a guy.” There was an edge in her tone—not quite bitterness, but close. “I’m here to meet him, make sure he’s good enough for her.”
I almost smiled at that. “And if he’s not?”
“Then I guess I’ll have to hurt him.”
This time I did smile, though I kept my face turned. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
“Oh, you don’t want to do that. I grew up on a farm in Georgia. I know my way around sharp objects.”
Her easy humor caught me off guard. Most people stumbled through small talk with me, like they were waiting for me to break. She sounded…comfortable. Like talking to the handyman wasn’t beneath her.
“What’s your friend’s name?” I asked, more to hear that soft Southern drawl again than because I needed to know.
“Sienna. She’s staying with some guy named Blade.”
Blade. Solid guy. Fellow vet. Local construction crew.
“Your friend chose well,” I said.
“Really?” Relief flickered in her voice. “Good. I was worried she’d fallen for some smooth-talking player.”
I slid in the new filter and tested the airflow. Much better.
“Nah. Blade’s the real deal. Quiet, hardworking. The kind of guy who’d give you the shirt off his back.”
“Good. Sienna deserves that.” A beat. “What about you? Are you just visiting too, or do you live here?”
The question hit me sideways. “I live here. Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
