I was pretty sure he’d felt it too.
I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, staring up at the sky through the pine branches, thinking about yesterday and his warning. I’d gotten all hot and bothered at his protective, growly tone ordering me around. Telling me what to do. It had fueled my fantasies last night and made me groan into my pillow as I’d touched myself, imagining him ordering to do all kinds of naughty things with him. To him.
I might not be very experienced, but I had a very good imagination.
I shook away those thoughts, trying to concentrate on the dilemma at hand. I was contemplating my options when I heard it. The low rumble of an engine, coming down the mountain from above me.
I straightened up, relief flooding through me. Finally. Another human being. Someone who hopefully had a better phone plan than me and could call a tow truck.
But as the vehicle came into view around the bend, my relief transformed into something more complicated. Something that made my heart pick up speed and my palms suddenly feel sweaty.
A black pickup truck. Newer model. Well-maintained. The same truck that had been parked outside Tucker’s cabin.
The truck rounded the bend, and I watched his face through the windshield as he processed what he was seeing. A woman sitting on the hood of a car, eating an apple, looking completely unbothered by the fact that she was stranded on the side of a mountain road.
The truck slowed, then pulled over behind me. Our bumpers were kissing since the spot wasn’t very long, and his truck was very big.
Just like him.
I watched as he got out of the truck, hearing theme music in my head. Today, he was wearing standard mountain man attire. A flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, hiking boots, and a pair of jeans that made me want to thank their maker for the way they hugged his thick thighs and butt.
Our eyes met, and I saw the concern in his eyes before it was replaced by something else. Anger?
Right. He told me not to come back up his mountain.
“What are you doing back on my mountain?” His voice was rough, with an edge that was more annoyance than concern. Or so it seemed to me.
I took a deliberate bite of my apple and chewed slowly before answering, letting the moment stretch. “It’s not your mountain.”
Something flickered in his expression—surprise, maybe? Like he hadn’t expected me to push back. But it was gone before I could identify it, replaced by that guarded look I was starting to recognize as his default.
He looked at my tire, then back at me, and there was something in his expression I couldn’t quite read. “You’re just... sitting here. Eating an apple.”
“I was hungry,” I said with a shrug, holding up the apple like evidence. “Mrs. Kowalski gave it to me. From her tree. Want a bite?”
I held it out to him, and he stared at it like I’d offered him a live grenade.
“I’m good.”
“Your loss. It’s really good.” I took another bite to prove my point, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes tracked the movement, the way his jaw tightened slightly. If I’d been a different type of woman, I would have licked my lips and gave him a come-hither look. Whatever the heck that meant.
But his reaction was still… interesting.
Tucker crossed his arms and looked down at me. “Delivering medicine again?” he asked.
“Yes. See? You weren’t a special case.” I gestured at him with the apple, feeling bold. “What about you? Coming down off your mountain? That’s rare, isn’t it?”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “I needed groceries.”
“Ah. The mountain man requires sustenance.” I grinned, unable to help myself. The situation was absurd, and he looked so serious standing there with his arms crossed, like a flat tire was a personal affront. “Let me guess. Beef jerky and canned beans? Maybe some whiskey?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. Just barely, but I saw it. Almost like he wanted to smile but had forgotten how. “Coffee and pasta. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Not disappointed. Just mildly surprised you eat actual food.”
“What did you think I ate?”
“I don’t know. Whatever grumpy hermits eat. Probably something you hunted yourself. Maybe some berries you foraged. Very survivalist.”
