Page 9 of When The Mountains Held Us

She reminds me of a baby deer—curious but skittish if you get too close.

That’s okay. The cracks in her hard exterior walls are evident already. It’s only a matter of time until I weasel my way in and send them crumbling to the ground.

No. That’s too much to hope for when I know so little about her and she even less about me. I can’t afford to think like that, not if I’m still hellbent on keeping my head on straight and accomplishing the goals I’ve set myself up for.

I have it good here in this town. I have friends, a great job, and am well on my way of taking over the business after Harold retires. With no children or close living relatives left of his own, Harold’s been running himself into the ground trying to keep the business organized and afloat. He loves it, loves everything about the company his parents built with their own blood, sweat, and tears, but in his old age, I can see how much the responsibilities are starting to weigh him down.

The organization aspect of it all is too much for one man to do, especially since expanding the business into the neighboring towns. I offered to help out with miscellaneous secretarial work if he needed me, but he’d brushed me off and told me to get my sorry ass back on the jobsite before he kicked it clean into the middle of next week.

I guess I should have known that was coming, but it didn’t stop me from offering my help the next week. And the week after that. And the week after that, until finally, I must have annoyed him enough with my constant chattering that he agreed to hire a full-time secretary to help out with the paperwork.

I helped by posting flyers all over town, and we’ve gotten some interest, but so far Harold has turned away every interviewee for one reason or the next. Eventually, he went around when the boys and I were out of town on a job, tore all the postings down, and gave up on the hunt.

It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part. Though it may have been a bigger battle than I initially intended it to be, Harold knew I meant well. He’s known me since I was a young boy and, alongside Justin and his family, helped raise me when the man at home fell short. It might be the only reason he hasn’t actually followed through on his threat to kick my ass.

From my periphery, I watch the rise and fall of Oakley’s chest as she sleeps. I only know a snippet of the day she’s had, but it must have been one hell of a ride to have knocked her out this quickly.

It’s only about a twenty-minute drive from her car to town. Not that I have any intention of letting her know just how close she was to where she needed to be a few hours ago. Something tells me she has a fiery streak hidden somewhere inside her, and that knowledge might set her off after the day she’s had. Though, I don’t think I’d mind bearing witness to her defiant rage.

I feel a tiny swell of pride that she felt at ease enough to fall asleep in my truck. I’m a complete stranger to her. I don’t know her story, but maybe mine is the only kindness she’s experienced in too long.

Whatever it is, I like knowing I must have something in me that tells her she’s safe with me.

My eyes flit from the dark road back to her sleeping form, taking note of the way the moonlight shining in through the window reflects across her creamy, smooth skin. The way her lashes flutter as if she’s dreaming. The way her pink lips part ever so slightly, each exhale stirring the straw-colored locks that have fallen over her face.

She’s beautiful.

Fuck, she looks good in my passenger seat.

Nope, not going to even go there.

Shaking my head, I steer away from the path a thought like that threatens to take me down and, with a grimace, lightly shake her shoulder. She wakes with a start, eyes frantic as she struggles to remember where she is. I watch with rapt fascination as she grounds herself, taking stock of her surroundings with concise clarity and breathing deeply, in through her nose and out through her mouth. It’s mesmerizing to see the way she regulates herself, to watch her breathing slow and her movements still as she works through the panic.

So, she’s good at puzzles too.

I return my gaze to the road and have to fight a smile when I catch her from the corner of my eye swiping at her mouth. With one hand still on the wheel, I lean my elbow on the console and hide my grin behind my hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. It’s been a long day. A long few months, actually.”

Her quiet admittance raises more questions than answers, but I keep them to myself, secretly hoping I’ll have the chance to figure out those answers some time in the future.

“No need to apologize. I’m glad you managed to get a little sleep.”

Right on cue, as if my words cause it, she yawns, her pretty pink tongue darting out to wet her lips when she’s finished.

I try to ignore it. I really do, but my gaze fixates on that single motion, and a shot of heat courses down my chest and straight to my dick. My throat goes dry, and my attempts to clear it are futile.

Forget Justin earlier, now I’m the fucking creep. Thank the angels above that it’s nighttime and the cab is dark. I don’t want to have to explain to this girl I literally just met why my pants suddenly look like I bought them from the youth section of the local thrift store.

“Where are we?” she asks, peering out the window to get a better look at our surroundings. I gesture to the building on her right.

“That’s the apartment complex you were supposed to tour today.”

She takes it in before turning to me, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

“How do you know that was the one I was touring and not another complex?” Her apprehension is cute. I try, and fail, to hide my smirk.

“There’s only the one in town, darlin’.”