Page 28 of Adrian

After setting the coffee down, I pick up my phone, disconnect it from the charger, and tap the screen. Immediately, I wince. There are ten texts from my mother, six from my father, and several more from acquaintances who probably consider me a friend.

I left New York five days ago. I sold my condo, bought an SUV none of them know about, filled it with my most important belongings, and drove it here. Yesterday I closed on the property I’d purchased sight unseen.

Until yesterday, I put my family off by telling my parents I’d decided to take a vacation. But that was only going to work for so long. Apparently, the ticking clock has run out.

I open my mother’s texts first.

Where are you?

Blair, what are you doing in the mountains?

Why aren’t you answering me?

Don’t be stubborn. Call your mother.

Blair! Your phone wasn’t connected for hours. Did you turn it off? What are you doing?

I’m sending your father to your last known location if you don’t answer me ASAP.

I glance at the time on that one. An hour ago. I hoped they would leave me alone for longer than this. I assume the fact that I didn’t have cell service for an entire day caused my mother to panic. I hadn’t considered that when I arrived at my homestead yesterday. The woman was tracking me, and she couldn’t locate me all day and most of the night.

If she were a normal human—and if I were a loving, devoted daughter—I would have called to reassure her the moment I arrived here. But my mother isn’t normal, and I’m not devoted. I’m disgruntled, and she’s overbearing.

How long before someone shows up here? My father would never get on a commercial flight, which means he’ll need to find a pilot who can get him as close to here as possible. Then he’ll need to arrange a rental car that meets his standards. After that, he’ll need directions. When was the last time my father actually drove a car?

Snickering, I decide I’ve read enough and set the phone down. I’m starving. Food first. Hot man in a flannel next. Then maybe I’ll consider answering my mother.

As I walk away, I sigh. Fuck. I don’t want my father coming here, so I snatch my phone up and send a quick text to my mother.

I’m fine. There was a storm. I didn’t have service for a while. No need to send the cavalry.

I return my phone to the counter, hoping my text will placate her. I don’t want to engage in a long dialogue. Not now.

My mouth waters as soon as I pull the plate of food from the warmer. Holy shit. My man can cook. My man? Seriously? The idea is ludicrous.

Marry him?

So tempting. Does he have any flaws?

After locating a fork, I stand at the kitchen window and shovel the best breakfast I’ve ever eaten into my mouth while I watch the mountain man show outside. Who needs television?

Sometimes I struggle to remember to chew and swallow. Also, I’ve never eaten a breakfast like this in my life. Usually, I’m a granola-on-yogurt kind of gal. Sometimes, I’m in too much of a hurry to bother with even that and end up with a protein bar midway through the morning.

I could get used to this. I could also gain fifty pounds in a month if every meal in this house is this delicious.

The plate is piled high. I would never eat this much, but I’m famished, so I scarf down every bite, grateful no one is watching. There’s sausage, scrambled eggs, hashbrowns, and a biscuit that Adrian had already put butter and some kind of homemade jam on.

When I’m done, I rinse the plate and put it in the sink before filling another cup of coffee. In between every movement, I stare out the window. It’s only been half an hour, but the tree is almost gone. The wood is stacked under an awning against what I assume is a shed.

I’m well aware of which man is Adrian, and I follow him around the clearing with my gaze like a stalker. Finally, he says something to his brothers and turns toward the cabin.

For some reason, my face heats, as if he’s going to catch me doing something very naughty. Sheesh. All I did was watch him work. My heart is racing from the activity, though.

When the door opens, I set my mug down and lean against the sink.

He smiles as he removes his work gloves and strides toward me. “You found my note and breakfast.”

“Yes.” I barely have time to respond before he hauls me into his arms and kisses me.