Page 16 of My Mountain Man Stalker
I circle the perimeter, doubling back twice just to be sure. The traps are undisturbed. No footprints. No signs of a breach.
But Iknowwhat I heard.
Someone—or something—was watching.
And it wasn’t far.
I stay out another twenty minutes before finally heading back, every hair on my neck still standing. Whatever was out there is gone now, or damn good at hiding. Either way, I don’t like it.
I step inside, lock the door, and head for the bedroom.
I knock once.
“Wren. It’s me.”
The door creaks open. She’s there in the soft lamplight, barefoot again, standing in the middle of the room like she doesn’t know where to put herself.
“You’re okay,” I say. “Nothing moved. No tracks. Could’ve been an animal, but…”
“But you don’t believe that,” she finishes quietly.
I shake my head.
Her arms are wrapped around herself. She’s pale, eyes too wide.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” she whispers. “Like someone’s always right there. Justout of sight.Like I can’t breathe.”
I step closer, slowly. “That’s fear. And it’s normal.”
“I hate it.”
“You’re still standing. That means it hasn’t beaten you.”
I want to reach out. I want totouch her. Just to remind her she’s here. She’s okay.
But I don’t.
She looks up at me. “Will you stay?”
I blink. “What?”
“Will you sleep here? Just—” she swallows. “Not on the floor. Not across the room.Here. With me.”
The air shifts.
She’s not teasing.
She’s not trying to tempt me.
She’sscared. And tired. And asking for comfort in the only way she knows how.
I nod once. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”
She doesn’t say anything—just crawls into the bed and slides over, leaving a space for me. I set the rifle against the nightstand, kick off my boots, and move in beside her.
The mattress dips beneath my weight.
I lie on my back, stiff as hell, trying not to let my body react to the warmth of her next to me. We’re not touching. Not really.
