Page 15 of Haunted By the Mountain Man
“I’m on call until six.” He showed me a walkie talkie. “If luck holds out I won’t get any calls.”
“And if it doesn’t hold out?”
“You’re going to stay in my bed, wet and needy until I come back for you.”
Chapter 4
Shane
I told Walt that we were going into town for supplies and he smiled vaguely and said he was going to start decorating for the Halloween ball. My truck was parked behind what was once the maintenance shed. It was a beat-up Ford that had seen better decades but could handle the mountain roads. I'd reinforced the undercarriage myself, added a winch, upgraded the suspension. You didn't survive Vermont winters without the right equipment.
"Jesus," Raven muttered, hauling herself up into the passenger seat. "This thing is as big as you are."
"Necessary up here." I started the engine, which caught on the second try. "The roads to my place aren't exactly maintained by the state."
"Your place." She said it like she was testing the words. "How far?"
"Fifteen minutes if we don't hit a washout."
She was quiet as I navigated the first turn, then: "Your hands are shaking."
They were. Gripping the steering wheel like it might escape, knuckles white with the effort of not pulling over and taking her right here in the truck.
"I know," I admitted.
"Second thoughts?"
"No." The word came out harsher than intended. "The opposite. I'm trying not to—" I cut myself off, jaw clenching.
"Not to what?"
"Not to pull over and fuck you in the bed of this truck like an animal." I glanced at her, saw her pupils dilate. "That's what you do to me. Make me feel like something wild. Dangerous. Out of control."
"Good," she said, and she rubbed her hand up and down my thigh.
I almost drove off the road. "Raven," I warned.
"Eyes on the road, mountain man." But her hand stayed where it was, a brand burning through my jeans.
The access road to my property was barely more than a game trail, overgrown with brambles that scratched at the truck's paint. Most people would have turned back by now, assumed it led nowhere. That was the point.
"There," I said as we crested the final rise.
The cabin sat in a natural meadow, the creek running along its eastern edge, catching the late afternoon light like hammered copper. The A-frame's windows reflected the surrounding forest, making it seem like part of the landscape.
"Holy shit," Raven breathed. "This is yours?"
I parked. "It all started with just a camp trailer and a dream of somewhere quiet."
"It's certainly remote." She was already climbing out. She looked right here, her dark clothes and purple-streaked hair somehow fitting against the wild backdrop. "You can't even see another building from here."
"That's the point." Inside, I disabled the alarm system and flicked on lights. The main room opened up around us—twenty-foot ceilings, exposed beams I'd salvaged from an old barn. The kitchen was to the left, bedroom loft above, bathroom tucked behind the stairs.
"This is not what I expected," Raven said, running her fingers along the granite countertop.
"What did you expect?"
"I don't know. Maybe a cave.”
