Page 1 of Falling for my Mountain Man

CHAPTER ONE

Rogue

I threw my phone down on the passenger seat, watching as it bounced to the floor. With a loud sigh, I reached over and scooped it up. I needed it for the damn GPS, or I'd be lost in these damn mountains in no time. The streets were small and winding, with steep curves and sharp turns.

I wasn't about to let that man ruin today. It was finally the day of the fall festival, and my trunk and back seat were full of my handmade knitted hats resembling cat faces. My specialty I sold online and now today I was selling them in person for the first time.

Probably why the asshole otherwise known as my ex, Bruce texted me. Of all days.

Bruce: I need my dishes back. They were grandmothers. I don't know why you took them in the first place.

Me: You said I could have them when I moved out!

Bruce: You're delusional!

What a gas lighting jerk. He loved to turn things around on me and constantly played the victim. He could have the dam dishes, I could not care less about them. I'd order a new set on Amazon. It was just the point.

On top of that, my GPS kept losing signal and if I didn't find this festival soon, I wouldn't have much time to set up my booth.

Finally, I saw the sign up ahead.

Pulling into the lot, cars swarmed the place and there weren't many spots to park. I drove around in circles and moved to another lot, hoping to snag something. I didn't want to walk too far.

I passed by rows and rows of classic cars, their fresh paint jobs shining in the sun.

“Yes, there's one!” I shouted out loud. It was a small spot, but it would have to do. There wasn't much else.

I parked as best I could, close to an old Cadillac on one side and a Mustang on the other.

As I killed my engine, a loud, deep voice came from somewhere behind me and I turned to see a guy waving his arms and pointing to my car.

I opened my door and climbed out. Didn’t I deal with enough man bullshit today?

“You’re parked really close to my car! Do you mind moving it? Technically, this lot is only for the classic cars in the show.” The handsome, older man ran a hand through his beard.

He looked stressed, but my God it was just a car. I was close, but not touching. How could the lot only be for classic cars? There wasn't anywhere else to park.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “I'm already running late and there was absolutely no parking. I'm sure it'll be fine.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you're pretty adorable when you're annoyed?”

I blinked a few times, my mouth gone dry. His question hit me sideways. “What?”

The sexy man chuckled. I took a second to drop my eyes down the length of his body, taking in his tall, muscular frame. He wore his dark brown hair cut tight on the sides with looser curls on top. His eyes were even darker, intense and sultry, sending shockwaves through my body. His hands looked strong, caked with grease and calloused, and suddenly I wanted them all over my body. “Since you're in a rush, why don't I move it for you? I'll show you where to park, and you won't have to walk as far.”

“That's okay. I'm good.”

“No, I insist.” He demanded, his voice rough. Yet it wasn't frightening. Instead, he intrigued me. Who was this older mountain man? And why was he being so kind when only minutes ago he bit my head off?

“Why do you want to help me?”

“Usually I wouldn't. But there's something about you.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Names Hutch. Now hand me your keys. You are running late, aren't you?”

I hesitated as I looked between his large hand and face. Could I trust a stranger?

I handed him my keys. “Let's go then. And if you drive me somewhere to kill me, my best friend knows I'm here.”

“Got it.” Hutch said, a hint of laughter in his gruff voice.