Page 9 of Claimed By The Mountain Man

A primal part of me loves seeing her in my clothes, eating my food, and sitting in my home. I love providing for her.

“This is so good. Where did you learn to cook?” Scout asks, completely oblivious to the rampant desires running through me.

“Uh, when I was in the Marines. I hated the food in the cafeteria, so I got creative. I had a little hot plate in my room and would make my meals there instead.”

She turns toward me. “How long were you in for?”

“Eight years.”

“Didn’t like it?”

“I loved it,” I admit quietly. “The last deployment… Things went wrong. Really wrong.”

“Carter, I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“I was in charge, and I didn’t see them, not until it was too late. I lost two of my men, and I took a bullet. I don’t know. I just couldn’t go back after that. Even if I was medically cleared, I still would have gotten out.”

“You were injured?” she asks in alarm.

“Bullet. Right here.” I pull my shirt up, letting her see the still-angry mark on my chest. Scout looks upset at the sight, so I tug the fabric back down. “It doesn’t hurt. Not anymore,” I assure her.

“That had to be so scary.”

“It’s crazy, but in the moment, I didn’t even think about it. There’s no time for being scared, you know? You’re too focused on other things. It was after, in the hospital, that it hit me.”

“I’m sorry you went through that.”

“That’s what I signed up for,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

Scout reaches out, her hand resting on mine, and she squeezes it slightly.

“What about you?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“Well, I never served,” she says.

I smile. “What did you do?”

“Um, I was in college. I wanted to be a teacher.”

“What happened?”

“I ran out of money. I was working two jobs, trying to save up, but… I don’t know. I never could.”

“Why not?”

“Because my dad is a drunk, degenerate gambler,” she says bitterly. “He would spend his money, and I’d have to use mine to cover his share of the rent or food or everything.”

I swallow hard and let her have a moment.

She sighs after a beat and pushes her food around her plate. “I should have left years ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want him to go hungry or be evicted. My mom died when I was a baby, and it was only ever the two of us. I guess there was some semblance of family loyalty. Unfortunately for me, it was only ever on my side.”

“He’s an idiot. He should’ve been taking care of you. He should’ve been supporting you and your dreams.”

“Yeah. He was never like that,” she admits.