Page 3 of Spooking the Mountain Man
And then he's gone, leaving me alone with my racing heart and the sudden, overwhelming awareness that the next three weeks are going to be anything but boring.
I flop back onto my narrow twin bed and stare up at the ceiling, where glow-in-the-dark stars still cling in the pattern of Orion's Belt.
Three weeks of Callum MacReady sleeping just down the hall, being all protective and grumbly and impossibly masculine in my family's cozy little house. Three weeks of trying not to think about the way his eyes lingered on my face, or the way his voice went all rough when he called me "little Kelly." Three weeksof pretending I don't have the most inappropriate crush on my brother's best friend.
This is either going to be the longest three weeks of my life, or the most interesting. I'm betting on both.
two
Callum
I'vebeenwantingKellyThornton since she turned eighteen, and I've been hating myself for it for just as long.
Standing in her childhood bedroom with its pink walls and unicorn stickers, watching her try to put on a brave face while she's clearly falling apart, makes me feel like the worst kind of bastard. She's Tyler's little sister. She's thirteen years younger than me. She just got out of what sounds like a toxic relationship and came home to lick her wounds.
And all I can think about is how much I want to gather her up in my arms and promise her that no one will ever hurt her again.
"I know you have a thing for my sister," Tyler had said two years ago, drunk on cheap beer after a particularly long day clearing deadfall.
I'd nearly choked on my beer. "The hell are you talking about?"
"Come on, man. The way you look at her? Like she's made of porcelain and you're terrified you'll break her?" Tyler hadshaken his head. "If she wasn't my baby sister, I'd probably think it was sweet."
"She's off limits," I'd said, and Tyler had nodded.
"Yeah. She is."
That conversation had been the end of it, or so I thought. But Tyler asking me to stay here, in this house where Kelly's presence seems to permeate every room, feels like some kind of test. Or maybe he's finally decided that his best friend isn't the worst option for his sister.
Either way, I'm screwed.
I grab my duffel bag from the truck and head back inside, taking the stairs two at a time. The guest room is at the end of the hall, past Kelly's bedroom, and I try not to think about how I'll be able to hear her moving around in there. The walls in this old house are paper thin.
The guest room is exactly what you'd expect from a house owned by people who raised two kids – clean but lived-in, with a double bed covered in a blue quilt and furniture that's seen better days. It's comfortable, homey, and makes me feel like an intruder.
I'm unpacking my clothes when I hear Tyler's truck start up outside. A few minutes later, Kelly appears in the doorway of the guest room, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed.
"He just left," she says, and there's something vulnerable in her voice that makes my chest tight.
"Tyler's not much for long goodbyes."
"No, I know. It's just..." She trails off, biting her lower lip in a way that makes me want to do things that would definitely violate Tyler's trust.
"Just what?"
"Nothing. It's silly." She pushes off from the doorframe. "I should let you get settled. Are you hungry? I could make dinner."
The offer surprises me. Kelly's always been polite when we've been in the same room, but she's never gone out of her way to be friendly. Usually she finds excuses to disappear whenever I show up.
"You don't have to cook for me," I say.
"I know I don't have to. I want to." Her chin lifts in a gesture I recognize from Tyler – stubborn and determined. "Besides, I need something to do with my hands or I'll go crazy thinking about... things."
The ex-boyfriend, probably. Tyler filled me in on the basics during the drive over here – some controlling jerk who spent six months tearing Kelly down before she finally found the strength to leave. The thought of anyone treating her that way makes me want to hit something, preferably the guy's face.
"What do you like to eat?" she asks.
"I'm not picky."
