Page 3 of Her Grumpy Mountain Man

“Can I use the porch?” I glance toward the back door, needing fresh air to clear my head. Falling for my bodyguard was not part of the plan—this was supposed to be about staying safe until they catch Gerald.

“As long as I’m with you, you can go anywhere.” He rests his forearms on his knees. “You can call Kat whenever you need her.” He nods toward the phone.

I keep my hands together on the table. “Maybe later.” Staying inside is probably safer right now anyway.

“Know how to play gin?” He picks up the deck and shuffles it like an expert.

“I know how to beat people at gin.” I take a seat in the open rocking chair and tuck one foot beneath me, feeling more like my old self than I thought possible after the past few days.

He raises an eyebrow. “Change accepted.”

He deals ten cards to each of us, then sets the rest of the deck face down. I lift my hand and find two queens, three nines, the five and six of clubs, and three cards I can’t use yet. Maddox studies his cards with the same concentration he showed the cameras.

I draw an eight of diamonds, then discard the six of spades. He takes it—of course he does. I try to look as if this means nothing to me and rearrange my hand unnecessarily.

A log settles in the grate, and I flinch before I can help it. His fingers stop above the discard pile—he looks at me, then at the fire. He does not tell me not to jump. Instead, he reaches for the poker and nudges the log into place, showing me the source of the sound without making my reaction the center of the room.

My shoulders ease as he puts the poker back and resumes studying his hand like I didn’t just almost have a panic attack over the crackling sound of the fire.

I pick up the seven of clubs he just discarded and put my eight of diamonds down in its place, making his eyes narrow. “What?” I slide it into my hand, concealing the run it completes.

“Nothing.” He draws another card, but his gaze stays on me.

On his next turn, he plays a queen—my third. I take it, placing my unwanted king of hearts on the pile. He leans back, looking at the ceiling as if appealing to a higher power.

A laugh escapes me—something I haven’t done in a long time. Maddox joins in, making playing cards feel normal—almost making me forget that someone wants to kill me.

Turning back to the game, I draw the four of clubs, completing my last run. Triumphantly, I discard the two of spades and set my hand down, queens together, nines together, four-five-six-seven of clubs aligned beneath them. “Gin.” I spread my empty fingers beside the cards like a magician doing a magic trick.

“You weren't kidding.” He lowers his own cards.

“No, I wasn’t. I’m a pretty good card player.” I flash him a smile, then untuck my leg and lean in to see what he has left. Our knees touch under the table. He stills, and so do I. I could easily move my leg away. Instead, I look at the cards he lays down, pretending to calculate points while the contact takes up an unreasonable amount of my attention—especially since his knee stays put.

He reaches for the pencil to record my score just as I reach for the deck, and our fingers meet over the queen of hearts. I become intensely aware of the heat of his skin. “You're dealing.” He pulls his hand back but not before letting his fingers hover over mine for longer than needed.

“And choosing the next game.” I shuffle the cards, arching them in the process.

“What do you choose?”

“Another round.” I nod at the cards in my hand.

“You just want to see me lose again.”

“Probably.” I finish shuffling the cards, then deal them—my hands a little less shaky than they were when I first walked into Maddox’s cabin.

After beating Maddox in four out of five rounds of gin, he finally concedes. “Enough for one night. It’s getting late, and I’m not sure my male ego can handle another loss.”

I can’t help but laugh again, something I’ve done a lot tonight. Maddox might seem rough and gruff at first, but he’s really just a big teddy bear—one I want to snuggle up to tonight.

“I’ll use the bathroom first.” I jump up so fast that I almost knock over the table holding the cards.

In the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face, then change into the only pajamas I have in my bag—a satin nightgown that hits high on my thighs and low on my chest. I don’t know whether to thank Kat for packing the one item I splurged on long ago, in case I finally met someone who spent the night. My eyes stray toward the door as I brush my teeth. What will Maddox think when he sees me wearing the nightgown?

When I open the door, Maddox waits beside the dresser in a T-shirt and gray sweatpants. I glance down, trying not to look at the bulge in the front of his sweatpants, trying not to wonder if he’s hard or not.

I take the side nearest the window, burrowing under the covers and taking slow, deep breaths to calm my racing thoughts. He takes the side nearest the door, sliding beneath his own blanket. The mattress dips, and I have to keep myself from turning toward him right away.

“Leave the lamp on if you want.” He settles against his pillow.