Page 2 of Grumpy Mountain Man

“You can’t be driving around in this storm.” He glares out at the dark clouds. “I guess I’m stuck with you.”

He shuts the door. His glance sweeps over me and I get the idea he is not impressed with what he sees. “You can put your bags over there on the table and then get yourself in front of the fire.”

I ignore his order and stand there looking around. The fire does look nice and warm, with a big comfy lounge and armchair directed at it. The table he indicated is in a little kitchen area. The place looks like a cozy little home. No axes hanging from the ceiling. No chopped up body parts.

My clothes are wet and dripping water on the floor. But I put my shoulders back, look him up and down. He may be good looking. And he may cause an excited tingle in my body. But I know my over-active imagination can get me in trouble and I’ve learnt to put my safety first.

Re-adjust my glasses and then with a deep breath. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Magnus.”

“And what do you do for a living, Magnus?”

He frowns. He obviously doesn’t like questions. “Lady, I’m just offering shelter from the storm. I’m not looking for us to become best friends.”

I frown right back at him. “What I need to know is if you are a serial killer, or some other danger to me?”

He holds up his hands. “Just a place to wait out the weather. You don’t have anything to worry about with me.”

We hold eye contact for a moment. Me weighing up my options and deciding that he was the lesser risk compared to getting lost in the rain and driving off a cliff. He keeps his expression blank. Just that frown, his arms now crossed over his chest. Waiting for my decision. I’ve got pepper spray in my bag. And I really don’t want to be driving on mountain roads in this weather. Also, there is something about him frowning at me…it’s like being in trouble with the sexy teacher. To me it’s a thrill.

And a challenge.

I’ve years of experience dealing with grumpy old men. Not just my professors but my grandfather used to be like this. On the rare occasions we stayed with him, I always saw it as a challenge to make him laugh. And if I’m going to write a paper on happiness, maybe this guy can help me after all. He could be a test subject. Or offer an objective opinion. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that I’m wondering what it would be like to be held in those strong arms. Kissed by those firm lips.

“Okay. I’ll stay.” He shrugs and points towards the fire as he walks off towards a door at the back of the cabin.

Chapter 3

Magnus

I just want to be left alone. I’ve been living up here in the cabin for the past five years. Ever since my life fell apart. I have a mother and a sister who are always on at me to move back to town.

“You can’t just sit up here alone, wallowing and letting life pass you by.”

Well, what do they know about the pain I’ve been through? They weren’t betrayed by their wife. They didn’t have their perfect, happy life ripped away. I’m fine on my own. I prefer it. I’ve got food and nature. I’ve got everything I need. I’m just fine on my own. If there is nobody here then there is nobody to betray my trust.

When I opened the door to find Ginny standing there looking like a drowned librarian, my first thought was that maybe she was sent here by my family. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt an instant attraction to a woman.

Maybe it was the fact that her clothes are plastered to her body, showing off some amazing curves. Or it is the way she stares me down when most people run a mile from my dark frown. Or it’s something about the cardigan, the glasses, and the way she is clutching her bag full of books that is giving sexy liberian vibes but one who is drenched from the rain.

I find her so adorable that my first impulse is to want to get away from her. If it wasn’t storming I would send her on her way. But I’m not a monster. And I get a strange feeling at the thought of her driving these roads in the rain. Like someone with a tight grip squeezing at my heart.

So she is staying. But we don’t have to talk. I don’t want to get to know her. I don’t want these feelings to grow into anything. I’ll keep my distance. I’m keeping my walls firmly in place. Of course, I get her a change of clothes. And I want her to be warm. And I’ll make a hot meal for us. But as soon as the rain eases off she is out of here.

My plan to shut my feelings down is immediately tested when I walked out to see her stuck, trying to get her cardigan off. She has the wet woolen garment half way down her arms but now she appears to be stuck. Turning in circles in front of the fire, giving me a view of her t-shirt plastered to her breasts, the outline of her bra clear through the cotton, I can even see her nipples poking out as extra temptation.

I feel a strange mix of emotions of wanting to laugh at the sight of her struggling to get her wet cardigan off while feeling arousal and attraction for the first time in a long time. Holy Mountains, I am in deep trouble here. I keep my eyes off her body as I walk towards her.

“Need some help?” I ask.

“I’m stuck.” She laughs, her bright eyes shining up at me.

Keeping my frown firmly in place, and trying my best not to actually touch her, I peel off her wet cardigan. But being this close, I can smell the scent of her hair conditioner. It smells like a meadow of flowers. Like sunshine. Warm and happy, like her. Damn it, now I’m writing fancy poetry.

I refuse to fall under her spell. Keeping my eyes off her, I turn to pick up the sweater and t-shirt I’ve fetched for her. But turning back to hand her the warm and dry clothes. Our hands touch. And our eyes meet. God, she is beautiful. Not a classical beauty. Nothing like my ex-wife who hurt me so badly. Ginny has a natural beauty that seems to shine out from within her. Big blue, gray eyes framed by thick lashes. Her face is pale from the cold. Her lips formed into a smile and something of a sexy glint in her eyes. I wonder what it would be like to kiss her. To feel her soft body against mine.

“Are these for me to borrow?” She asks.