Page 14 of Mountain Grump Protector

“But why did you make it?” My lips twist into a scowl before I can stop them. “For me?”

What do you want from me?

Is the real unasked question hanging in the air between us

“Because you need to eat, Willow.” He speaks every word slowly as if I might have trouble understanding. “That’s it. There’s no hidden agenda.” I narrow my eyes, but he ignores me and points to the plate. “Go ahead. I already ate.”

My stomach chooses that moment to growl, so I reach for the plate and immediately retreat to the solid wood table on the other side of the room. I sit with my back to the wall and dig in.

After a few bites, I wipe my lips and say, “You make breakfast for all the women you drag home from the bar?”

The words slip out defensive and sharp before I can stop them.

His shoulders stiffen for half a second.

“You always so prickly with people who’ve done nothing but save your ass?”

His retort takes me off guard.

“Only the ones who want something from me.”

His jaw tightens, and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. It’s only then that I notice the fine lines around his eyes and realize how much older than me he is. By at least fifteen or twenty years. He’s definitely closer to my father’s age than my own.

But he looks nothing like the gaunt, hollowed-out shell my father has become from years of turning to alcohol and pills in search of the life he’d lost when my mother died.

“I don’t want anything from you, Willow.” His voice is low and rough, rumbling directly to my core.

I have no reason to believe him.

Except, of course, for the fact that since rescuing me, he hasn’t done anything except be kind.

I’m not going to apologize. We’re not there. Not yet.

I turn back to my breakfast and stab a piece of bacon with my fork.

From where he’s standing across the room, he sighs and shakes his head. I pretend not to notice.

He doesn’t say another word until I’ve finished the food on my plate, and the second I do, he clears my plate before I have a chance to stand up.

“I could have done that.”

“I’m sure you could have,” he says without looking back. “But you don’t have to. You’re a guest.”

“Is that what I am?”

And just like that, the sharp defense mode is activated. I jump up from the chair and cross my arms over my chest.

When he turns from the sink and sees me, I don’t miss the way his lips twitch into a half smile, and he shakes his head like he’s trying, but failing to figure me out. I also don’t miss the way his eyes dart down to my bare legs before he meets my gaze.

Okay, maybe I should have put my shorts on.

“What game are you playing?”

“Sorry?”

“Game, Cal.” I don’t even try to keep the fire out of my voice. “You’re obviously playing at something,” I continue. “I just can’t figure out what the hell it is. But I know it’s something because no one just buys a woman minutes before kidnapping her and hauling her up to his cabin in the middle of nowhere and doesn’t want something. So what is it?”

He takes one step forward before thinking better of it and stopping. “Maybe I just didn’t like the alternative.”