Page 17 of Beastly Mountain Man

The question was lightly asked.

Something about it made me pause.

“No,” I said, equally lightly. “Apparently not.”

Lucky’s expression warmed, but he left the answer alone.

He checked the covered traction bin near the steps, made sure the snow shovel was accessible instead of buried behind outdoor furniture, and walked the perimeter of the porch without performing unnecessary work just because I was there to watch him.

That may have been part of the problem.

The man did not show off.

He simply knew what he was doing.

The economy of his movement was becoming its own form of distraction. He never rushed. He never looked uncertain about where his weight belonged on frosted boards or what needed his attention. Even the way he closed a storage lid, tested the latch, and moved on carried the quiet confidence of someone who trusted his own experience.

I had spent years around people who made competence louder than it needed to be.

Lucky made it look ordinary.

He returned to stand beside me beneath the covered section. “You’re ready. If the forecast gets worse, the resort crew handles the main paths and road. You stay in the guest areas and let us do the rest.”

“You have a remarkable commitment to telling me that someone else has responsibility for something.”

“I’m the Property Manager. It comes up.”

His voice was warm enough to take any sting out of the words.

I smiled. “I know. I’m beginning to suspect you enjoy your job.”

“I do.”

“That shouldn’t be as rare as it is.”

Wind pushed another burst of cold along the deck. I drew my shoulders up beneath my coat and looked toward the vanished ridge.

“What made you stay here?”

Lucky followed my gaze rather than answering immediately.

“My family’s here. I like the mountain. I like the work. Those are all pretty good reasons.”

He had chosen this, and that interested me almost as much as his shoulders. Possibly more, although the jury remained compromised.

“You make that sound almost too easy.”

“It mostly is.”

“Suspicious.”

Lucky smiled. “I’ve got complicated things too. I just don’t think choosing where I wanted to live was one of them.”

I tucked my gloved hands into my coat pockets. “I like that.”

His eyes moved back to mine. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”