Page 9 of Grumped By the Mountain Man

“Or a bribe,” she says as I take the box and drink and lead us up the rocky pathway to the house.

“A bribe?” I raise a brow.

“To let me take those photos,” she says hopefully. “Your home is seriously incredible.”

I watch her as she takes in the back of the property, her eyes wide and mesmerized as she examines the three-story deck.

“Did you...did you carve those bears yourself?” She asks, a smile spreading across her lips as she points to a support post under the deck. So far no one had noticed the detail; although to be fair, only Cali, the Woods brothers, and my cousins, the Foresters, had come around. “That’s incredible.”

Pride swells in my chest at her appreciation for all the little details. What would she say if I told her there were dozens of little easter eggs all over the house because I know how much she loves them?

She’d say you were crazy. Obsessed. Unhinged. A little voice chimes from the recess of my mind and brings me back to earth. You created an entire home with her in mind, and she isn’t even your woman.

“Thanks.”

We’re almost to the deck when Ayla slips, a little yelp escaping her lips as she clings to my bare torso. Immediately I grab onto her waist to steady her and the moment her soft body pushes into my side I know I have to let her go, but I don’t. I hold her fast to me until we get to the leveled ground of my backyard. In truth, I want to pick her up and carry her with her legs locked around me.

I may have the common sense not to do it in real life, but it doesn’t stop my fantasies. It doesn’t stop me from wondering how it’ll feel to be trapped between her thighs.

“Thank you,” she sighs when we reach the deck and she lets go of me, fingering the strap of her camera bag.

I nod at it. “Take as many photos as you need,” I say, opening the back door and ushering her and Mochi inside.

Her sharp intake of breath tells me that she likes what I’ve built as we enter the kitchen. It’s massive with an island large enough to accommodate nine people. A huge sink fits snuggly in the middle and a stovetop is nestled a few feet from it.

I wonder if she’ll realize that I built it exactly like her dream kitchen she gushed about three years ago when we were watching the home improvement channel. I even installed the plumbing to fill the pots over the stove. It actually comes in handy whenever I feel like whipping up some noodles.

Ayla eyes the six burners then me. “Since when do you know how to cook?”

“I don’t,” I say, opening the box and getting sticky icing all over my fingers. Mochi barks as I lick it off but he knows as well as I do how badly sugar affects his stomach. Irritated, he struts off to mope.

“But this is a kitchen a five-star Michelin chef would cook in!” She eyes all the pots and pans hanging from the ceiling rack. There’s stainless steel, copper, and non-stick. If she opened the cupboards, she’d find fancy cast iron and enameled Dutch ovens and massive Kitchenaid appliances with a whole host of attachments I have no clue how to use.

It doesn’t make sense to her or me why I invested so much money into a space I barely use. Well, that was a lie. I may not be into cooking, but like Grant, Cali was. She even wanted that KitchenAid mixer in—

“MINT!” Cali shrieks bending down to inspect a cupboard. “You have a mint mixer!”

I keep my eyes trained on my second cinnamon roll so I don’t have to look at her. I swear I’m not a hoarder. I just...I don’t know.

“Jaxon. Why do you have all of this stuff?”

I shrug. “Maybe I’ll learn to make all of those fancy dishes you love watching on the cooking channel.”

Her eyes fly to the massive living room. “You don’t have a TV to watch it on.”

If she lived here, I’d never need a TV, I could watch her for hours as her eyes light up at every corner of the house. Pride surges in me at each of her smiles, at every drawer pull, and with every question.

Then, just as suddenly, her smile falters as she emerges from behind the island. “I’m sorry. I’m talking too much aren’t I?”

“Talk as much as you like, butterfly. I like hearing your voice.”

She freezes at the nickname, a warm flush spreading across her cheeks.“But I’m talking enough for the both of us.”

She always does and I love it.

“It’s comforting. It reminds me that another human is here.”

I pause mid-bite. Why did I say that?

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