Page 5 of Her Grumpy Mountain Man

“Later.” My old instincts kick in, and I begin to pull back, both physically and emotionally.

I slip out of bed, never looking back, because if I do, I know there won’t be much talking.

four

Ava

By the time we finish breakfast, I’ve replayed our almost-kiss so many times I barely remember what I ate. I remember his hand against my cheek, the roughness of his thumb, and the way he lifted his head toward mine before pulling away. And what he says afterward.

I want to kiss you.

I carry those words outside, my paperback tucked beneath my arm. Maddox steps onto the porch behind me, carrying an old quilt. He catches the door with his boot, gives the yard a slow look, then turns to me.

“Here.” He drapes the quilt over the back of the porch swing. “The seat’s probably cold.”

“Thank you.” I spread it beneath me, leaving enough to cover my lap.

He rests a hand on the porch rail. From where I’m sitting, I can see the faint crease between his eyebrows as he scans the tree line. I wonder whether he ever gets tired of looking for trouble or what it would take to make him forget to look.

“I’ll be right there.” He points toward the chopping block by the woodshed. “Stay where I can see you.”

“That should be easy.” I settle into the swing cushion and lift my book. “I have ambitious plans to accomplish absolutely nothing.”

His mouth curves before he heads down the steps. I watch him cross the yard, then open my novel, determined to get lost in a romance.

The heroine is stranded at a remote cabin with a lumberjack. Yesterday, that seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to read. This morning, with Maddox picking up an axe twenty feet away, it feels like a personal attack.

I shake those thoughts out of my head and find my place in the book. The lumberjack in the book leans against a doorframe, saying something that presumably makes the heroine forget how doors work—something I’m beginning to relate to.

The lumberjack in my story lifts his axe overhead and brings it down with such force that I can almost hear it. Then I realize it’s not the lumberjack in the book I’m hearing, but Maddox.

I glance up to see Maddox bend to gather the two halves of a split log. His jeans pull taut across his thighs, and I lose the next sentence entirely as he stacks the pieces beside the shed, sets another log upright, and steadies it with one broad hand, completely destroying my concentration. I lower my eyes to the page, determined to block out Maddox.

Read, Ava. You know how.

The axe lands again, a sharp crack carrying across the yard. The swing moves beneath me as I shift, my foot pressing lightly against the porch boards. I read the same line twice—something about the lumberjack's broad shoulders. Of course it is.

I glance over the top of the paperback just as Maddox rolls his shoulders before lifting the axe. His shirt stretches across his back, then loosens as he brings the blade down. There’s nothing hurried about him. He checks each log’s placement, works steadily, and pauses every few minutes to look toward the porch. Each time, I pretend I’ve been reading.

The first time, I’m convincing. But by the fourth, I suspect I’m insulting us both.

“Good book?” He rests the axe head against the chopping block.

“Very.” I hold it a little higher.

“What’s it about?” He wipes his forehead with his forearm.

“A woman making questionable decisions.” Another thing I can relate to.

He looks at me for a moment. “Sounds dangerous.” He picks up another log.

“You have no idea.” I turn a page I haven’t finished.

His quiet laugh reaches me across the yard.

I press my lips together to keep from smiling. He’s easier out here. Still watchful, still checking on me, but the stern line of his mouth keeps giving way whenever I say something ridiculous.

It’s getting harder to pretend this is just attraction. I want his attention when I’m fully dressed, without any accidental closeness to blame. I want him looking at me because he has something to say. I want another morning beside him without either of us wondering what the other is thinking.