Page 2 of Mail Order Mountain Man

Chapter Two

Cole

I know who she is before she even says hello. She’s dressed in a short yellow sundress with a pink cardigan wrapped over her shoulders. Her hair is auburn with highlights of pink to frame her face and she’s currently wearing the best accessory of all time, a full cup of coffee dripping down the front of her.

She looks like a punk rock beauty queen that just fell into a puddle of mud but kept the smile for the sake of the crowd.

Why is that so amusing for me?

The little bake shop quiets as the owner towels the woman off, paying no mind to how hard her nipples have gotten under the thin cotton dress she’s wearing. I try to be classy as well, but turns out, I’m not classy at all.

“Can I help with anything? You’re Junie, right?”

The cute, angry looking woman glances toward me, then hides her face against her palms. “You must be Cole.”

I grin, steadying my gaze with hers, which is an effort considering her sopping wet nipples standing at attention.

“Sorry about this.” She rolls her gaze to the side. “I guess I figured I looked better wet.”

I grin, thinking of all the ways I could turn that into a joke, or at the very least an inuendo about how much I agree. Instead, I settle on, “We should get out of here.” In hindsight, I could’ve come up with something better, even with my self-inflicted restrictions.

“And go where?” She laughs. “I’m soaked?”

Again, the innuendos are eating at my brain.

I look at the woman behind the counter. “One large coffee, to go.”

The older barista nods and pours me a large cup of hot brew. I hand her a few dollars and nod toward Junie before stepping outside the bakeshop window.

Junie looks at me with a wrinkled forehead as though she’s been dumped, but I have no intention of leaving. I pour the steaming cup of coffee down over my shirt and try with all my might to contort my face into a smile while doing it. Through the window I yell, “Now we’re both soaked. Where should we go?”

I expect the gesture to go over well, like some romantic comedy where the hero makes an elaborate gesture of solidarity, and the heroine jumps into his arms. Instead, Junie’s face turns down and she storms from the shop like she’s just come face to face with Charles Manson.

“What?” I chase after her, which could be my second mistake. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Why home? We have a date.”

“And we’re soaked!” She turns back toward me. “Why would you pour coffee all over yourself?”

The cool wind bites against my chest as we stand staring at one another in the street. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Her head cocks to the side. “Let’s be honest with ourselves here.Okay?”

She has fire… and I’m intrigued.

“Okay…”

“For one, you’re clearly older than me.”

“I’m not that much older than thirty-six.” I slide her a half smile. We both know she’s nowhere near thirty-six like her profile said. If I had to guess, she’s in her mid-twenties at most. “Plus, I’m in the age range you requested.”

“Well, I assumed when I was setting that age range, I was also looking for mentally stable. Did I get that?”

“Wow!Who’strulymentally stable, anyway? Are you mentally stable?”

She rolls her eyes up into her head, then crosses her arms over her chest, blocking my top tier view of her nipples. “I mean... are you a psycho, serial killer, or just an asshole? The way you’re acting, I’m just not sure.”

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