Page 29 of Mountain Man

“Water’s already on, so you can go ahead and use it whenever you want.”

He showed me the rest of the house. He didn’t go into his room, just shoved the door open and said, “My room.” His bed was huge, with the same amazing rustic log frame and gorgeous quilts. There were windows on two sides in there as well, a large dresser beside the door, and several faded rag rugs on the floor.

We headed back downstairs, and I grabbed my meager possessions. “I might just grab that shower now, if that’s okay?”

“Of course. You can use anything of mine if you want clean clothes. Just grab something out of my drawers.” He moved to the fire and set about lighting it, his back to me.

I stood at the foot of the stairs, my heart beating faster, my body hot and aching from just being in the same room as him, and forced myself to ask, “Which room should I put my bag in?”

He went still, in that way he always did, but didn’t turn to look at me. “Choice is yours, Birdie.”

The choice was mine.

I rushed upstairs. I’d been determined to spend another night with him, and I wanted to still, but as much as my body and my heart were screaming at me to take my bag to Hank’s room, my head was shouting her opposition just as loud.

I was in love with him—there was no denying it. If I slept with him, let him make love to me, I didn’t know if I would ever recover.

I quickly showered, and on my way back, since I was still undecided about what I should do, I dropped my bag inside the door of the spare room closest to the stairs. When I came down, the fire was blazing, and Hank had made an omelet for supper. While we ate, I asked him questions about his life growing up there.

I had no idea what time it was. We’d been talking a long time, and it was dark outside. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. The fire had warmed the large house easily, and after the walk there today, I was feeling it.

I didn’t want to go to sleep, though—not yet. This was our last night together.

Hank went upstairs to use the bathroom. He was up there a little while, and when he came back down he seemed different, quieter.

He picked up the plates. “I’m calling it a night. We’ll leave first thing,” he said, then he stomped up the stairs and vanished.

I stared after him, my heart racing again.

He’d obviously seen my bag in the spare room. He was disappointed. I sat there for several minutes, trying to decide what to do.

In the end, my heart—my body—was screaming louder than my head.

If I didn’t go to him tonight, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

8

Birdie

I was positive I hit every creaky board as I made my way up the stairs. There was no way he didn’t know I was coming. Well, he thought I was coming up to sleep in the spare room.

I wasn’t.

Nerves twisted tighter as I walked past the first bedroom. I had no idea why I was anxious. It wasn’t like we hadn’t had sex before. But this was different, wasn’t it? Tonight, I wanted to give myself to him, show him how I felt, take that next step…even though that step led nowhere. Because not experiencing that with him one more time was unthinkable.

What if he’d changed his mind? What if he turned me away?

It was a risk I was willing to take. Since my mom died, I hadn’t taken a lot of those. My life had been in constant upheaval for a lot of years and I’d wanted the opposite of that. But instead, I’d taken the easy route, the road I was familiar with, and I’d clung to it.

I didn’t want to be that girl tonight.

The door was slightly ajar, and I gave it a little push. His room was dark but there was an orange glow from a small fire on the right. I hadn’t noticed it when Hank showed me around. It hadn’t been going. It was down to embers, left to burn out.

“You need something, Birdie?”

I spun around to the huge bed on the other side of the room. It was too dark to see Hank clearly, but the moonlight provided enough light that I could see the looming form of his impressive body sitting on the side of his bed. His elbows were on his knees and his head was in his hands. Those beautiful, big, rough hands.

I knew instantly that he’d lit that fire for me. He’d wanted me there with him tonight and when I put my bag in the spare room, he’d let it go out.