Page 21 of Challenged By the Mountain Man

"He likes you."

"Is that unusual?"

"Yeah. He doesn't usually warm up to people this fast."

I'm absurdly pleased by this information, which is ridiculous. It's a dog. But still. "Maybe he has good taste."

Griffin's mouth twitches. "Maybe."

We finish our coffee, and Griffin stands, chair scraping against the worn floorboards. "I should go. It's getting dark."

He's right. Through the window, I can see the last of the daylight fading, the sky turning deep purple between the trees. The temperature has dropped noticeably even in the short time we've been sitting here, and I'm grateful for the fire crackling steadily in the stove.

"Thanks for the wood," I say, standing too. "And the fire lesson. And the axe lesson. And…"

"You're doing it again."

"What?"

"Thanking me for everything. I told you to stop."

"And I told you to stop doing things that make me want to thank you."

He looks at me for a moment, and I swear there's the ghost of a smile on his face. "Guess we're both bad at following directions."

"Guess so."

He calls Bear, who reluctantly gets to his feet and trots over, tail wagging. Griffin heads for the door, and I follow, suddenly not wanting him to leave. Which is absurd. I came here for solitude. For space. For the chance to be alone with my thoughts without jumping at every loud noise or scanning every room for exits.

But standing here in the doorway watching Griffin pull on his jacket, I realize that for the last hour, I haven't thought about the robbery once. Haven't heard the alarm in my head. Haven't felt my heart racing with adrenaline I don't need.

I've just... been here. Present. Talking to someone who doesn't look at me like I'm fragile.

"Griffin," I say as he steps onto the porch.

He turns, one hand on Bear's collar. "Yeah?"

"If you wanted to… I mean, if you ever—" I stop, frustrated with myself. Just say it. "If you want to come by for coffee again. You can. You're welcome here."

He's quiet for a moment, and I can't read his expression in the fading light. Then he nods once. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Okay."

"Keep the fire going," he says. "Temperature's going to drop hard tonight."

"I will."

"And don't use all the wood at once. You need to make it last."

"I know."

"And—"

"Griffin." I cross my arms, leaning against the doorframe. "I've got it. I'm not going to freeze to death."

"Just making sure."

"I'm capable of taking care of myself."