Page 1 of Grumpy Mountain Man

Chapter 1

Ginny

I put the car window down and take in a deep breath of fresh mountain air. It is just beautiful up here. Trees on either side of this winding road, everything is so green and alive. Sure, it’s cold and the clouds above are gray and threatening to break, but I have the heater on in my little hatchback and I am on my way to meet a professor to interview for my thesis paper.

I’m excited for this interview. I’ve changed my mind so many times but I have finally landed on a topic I’m excited about. What is happiness and how do we get it?

I smile as I let my hand glide on the wind outside. I’ve learnt to appreciate the little things in life. That happens when you grow up with nothing. There were times we didn’t even have a place to sleep and had to camp out in mom’s out car. But we were happy, I think. I wonder if we would have been happier with a set address. But it made me who I am today. As long as there is food in my tummy and a working car, then there is always the possibility of a new adventure around the corner. And then there was mom, she was always chasing happiness. That’s why we had to keep moving around all the time. Mom was chasing something big.

So I grew up to appreciate the little things. My own apartment, my own things, the feel of the fresh mountain air. But I am a lot like my mom.

Didn’t I change degrees three times before I settled on sociology?

Haven’t I changed my thesis topic six times?

But now I’m set on the big question. What is happiness?

I’m hoping Professor Thomlinson can give me a good place to start. He has been working on the idea of happiness for years and he has written several books on the topic. And it’s kind of exciting to come all the way up here to meet with some old, ancient, wise professor.

As long as the rain holds off till I can get there.

And that I don’t get lost, because as well as being beautiful up here, with the looming dark clouds, it does also look a little bit like a serial killer's paradise. Lots of trees. Lots of shadows. The occasional cabin glimpsed through the forest.

The rain didn’t hold off and has been falling with big fat heavy drops on my windscreen. So it’s with a sigh of relief that I find the address I’m looking for and turn into a long driveway towards a log cabin. Orange light glows out of the windows, giving the place a welcoming feel. I’m ready to just sit by the fire and soak up everything this guy has to say about happiness and what it means.

I gather my things, holding my bags close to my chest as I splash through mud to get to the front door. Just a second to catch my breath before I knock on the door.

I wait.

No answer.

I knock again, louder this time. The knocking is gaining volume to match how wet and cold I’m getting.

The door opens. Right at that moment there is a crack of lightning behind me, lighting up the massive mountain man frowning down at me.

He is tall, a big, burly chest wrapped in a t-shirt and an open flannel shirt. The arm holding the door open is thick with muscle. Thighs as big as tree trunks, jeans down to big, black boots. A glance up at his face shows his dark frown, sharp jawline. A handsome face if he wasn’t scowling right at me. The flickering light of the lightning, the thunder in the background, it’s all a bit scary movie for my over-active imagination.

“What do you want?” His voice is big and booming, yelling over the rain. I shrink back. And then let out a yelp as his big hand wraps around my forearm, pulling me inside his cabin.

Chapter 2

Ginny

“Who are you?” He is still frowning down at me.

I’ve dealt with my fair share of grumpy old professors. But I've never seen anyone as tall, broad shouldered as this guy. And he is younger than I expected.

All that muscle and strength. Wild hair months past needing a haircut. And deep brown eyes that look like they are lit by an inner glow in the orange light of the cabin. Looking up at him I feel a little thrill race through my veins. See, I’ve always had a thing for big, tall, grumpy men. At university I'm surrounded by tweed wearing, balding, men who have spent a lifetime hunching over books. This guy is tall, strong and sexy. The dark frown and gruff appearance only adds to his appeal.

“Ah, I’m Ginny Voss. I’m looking for Professor Thomlinson?”

He hooks his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “No one here by that name.”

“Oh.” I’m clutching my bags against my chest. Awkwardly searching for the address, pulling out the scrap of paper, I show it to him. “I was told this address.”

He glances at the paper and shakes his head. “You want Starfall Valley Drive. This is Starfall Mountain Drive. Lady, you’re on the wrong side of the mountain.”

Crappity crap. I was really hoping this big, burly, darkly handsome man might have been who I was looking for. Here I was, imagining us huddling over research together, when in fact I’ve got the wrong address and he is just some handsome stranger who I have bothered in his little cabin. But I’ll be taking the image of him with me to fantasize about as I drive off around the mountain. I apologise for disturbing him and turn to leave.