Page 10 of Guarded By the Mountain Man

She shuts the door on my answer, which is fine, because I didn't have one.

I'm still smiling like an idiot when I clock it: a silver car parked nose-out in front of the shuttered Fix-it Shop, engine off, tinted windows just fogged enough to tell me somebody's breathing inside it. Rental sticker on the bumper.

I memorize the plate and sit watching until it drives away.

Chapter Seven

JULIETTE

Nora teaches me the quirks of the espresso machine like it’s a living thing.

“So, Gina here is Italian… she holds grudges,” Nora says, patting the machine's copper flank. “Too fine a grind and she chokes, too coarse and she gives you dishwater. Let’s try it again.”

I pull shot after shot into a graveyard of little cups. Finally one runs slow and syrupy with a crema like caramel; Nora tastes it, and gives me a big smile. I teach her to make vanilla danishes and the day flashes by quickly. I’m getting to know the regulars and the sweet pace of this small town. Despite the rain, the beauty of the mountains is drawing me in, the changing fall colors a stunning backdrop to everyday life that I miss in the carefully manicured gardens of my parents’ house.

At the end of my shift, Nora counts out my pay and then keeps hold of the envelope for a second.

“Mayla's staying down in High Vale till Christmas at least, helping out her husband’s family. I need mornings covered through the holidays.” She looks at me over her glasses, the same look she gave the buttercream. “The job's yours if you're staying. Are you?”

Bobby's part for the car is coming next week, so I could drive anywhere in America.

“I'm staying,” I say, smiling.

Holt picks me up at two. I climb into the truck smelling of coffee and cinnamon, with a paper bag of danishes.

“Nora offered me mornings through the holidays… I said yes.”

Holt’s hands flex on the wheel. He doesn't say anything all the way up the mountain road. Once we’re at the gate to his property, he reaches over and takes my hand, laces our fingers together on the seat between us, and drives one-handed the rest of the way as a warm glow rises in my chest.

We eat leftovers standing up at the counter. I tell him about the espresso machine's grudges, putting on an Italian accent that makes him laugh.

I wash my hands at the sink, dry them, and turn around.

“Hear me out. You said yesterday we needed to take our time because I was stranded, because I had no other option.”

Holt grips the edge of the counter, his gray eyes steady on me in a way that makes my core clench.

“Well… I have a job. I have wages in cash. Nora says she has a room she’d rent me if I asked. The car's fixed next week. I have many ways out of this cabin, Holt, and I'm standing in your kitchen because it's where I want to be, okay?”

His eyes have gone dark, the gray almost swallowed up in the blackness of his pupils.

“So your stranded argument's dead. I know what I want. What do you want?”

The wind blows against the side of the cabin and a log crackles in the fireplace. It’s starting to rain again.

He clears his throat. “What I want is everything. That's the problem. I'm not a casual man, Juliette; I can’t give you back. You’re young, and that's a lot to put on you.”

My heart is hammering so hard I’m sure he can hear it. I cross the kitchen to him and go up on tiptoes, tipping my head back to hold his eyes. “I want it. I want you. Now stop thinking and kiss me.”

There's nothing careful about his kiss this time. One arm bands around my waist, lifting me clean off the floor, and I wrap my legs around him. I can feel exactly how much he wants me, his huge cock hard and heavy against my belly. I whimper as his tongue explores my mouth and he carries me through the door of his room. It smells like him, cedar and woodsmoke.

“Tell me now if I'm wrong,” he says against my throat, working the buttons of my shirt loose one by one, “but I don't think anyone's…”

“No… I’m a virgin.” I take his face in my hands so he can see I'm not scared. “I was saving myself for marriage, I guess. But it turns out it was for you.”

He groans, unhooking my bra and then stops, his chest rising and falling like he's been running.

“Juliette, you're the most beautiful thing that's ever been in this house,” he says. His mouth quirks upwards. “And I once brought a whole elk I shot into the kitchen.”