My Mountain Man Muse
That sounds a little more appetizing…
“Just one question,” I say, sticking my finger in his face. He raises an eyebrow. “Are you an ax murdering lunatic?”
“Is that a serious question?” He looks indignant.
“No,” I say, laughing nervously. “Of course not!”
My laughing slowly stops. “But are you?”
He shakes his head as he looks at me with a slight grin on his amused face. “It seems to me that you’re the only one who’s actively trying to kill you.”
I think back to my awkward rolling down the hill and nod. “Fair enough.”
He turns around and starts carrying me back to the road.
“Uh, where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to my place.”
His voice is firm, gruff, like there will be no discussion.
No big deal.
It’s going to be fine.
God, I’m so sweaty.
I’m just heading to my new friend’s house to hang out.
My new muscular, reclusive, possibly psychopathic mountain man friend’s house.
Nothing to worry about.
Gulp.
I’m so screwed.
Chapter Three
Lily
For a kill cabin, it’s pretty damn cute.
But that’s how ax murderers usually get you. One minute, you’re admiring the adorable little birdhouse on the wooden porch and the next minute, they’re creeping up behind you about to remove your head from your body. I won’t fall for that!
“Are you okay?” he asks when I whip my head around. “Are you always this jumpy?”
I want to play it cool and I don’t want him to think that he’s making me nervous so I nod. “Yes. I usually am.”
He exhales long and hard and then walks into his cabin leaving the door open for me. I take one last look around for any mutilated limbs sticking out of the snow, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary.
In fact, it looks just like a normal cute cottage nestled in the mountains. It’s made of mostly logs and you can tell that he takes good care of it. It has a fresh coat of paint on the shudders and the walkway and porch are well shoveled. It looks really cozy with snow on the roof and a stream of smoke coming out of the chimney. There’s an old light blue pickup truck parked on the side that looks like it could have belonged to my grandfather, but still looks to be in working order.
I look up to the heavens and take a deep breath. “You wouldn’t do this to me, would ya?” I mumble to whoever is up there.
When there’s no answer, I take a leap of faith and limp my way in.
It’s a little log cabin with a stone fireplace that looks perfect to snuggle up in front of while reading a book. My eye is drawn to an old antique typewriter on the mantel. Wow. That’s cool.
“Take a seat,” he says as he walks into the room. His hat and jacket are off and he’s looking pretty hot in an old tight gray t-shirt. “I’ll make some hot coffee for you.”
“Hot coffee sounds great.” I’ve only had six cups today, I almost add, but then keep my mouth shut instead.
I slip off my snow-covered hat and gloves, and then pull off my wet coat. My snow pants are a little trickier with my ankle thumping the way it is. I bend over and tug on my boot, and a loud involuntary scream shoots out of my mouth.
He’s over in a second, gently lowering my body to the floor as he supports my ankle with his hand.
“I better do it,” he mutters under his breath as he starts to unlace my boot.
His hands are so big, but his fingers are quick and nimble. My heart is pumping as he gently slides my foot out without so much as a yelp from me.
This is a good sign. Isn’t it?
An ax murderer wouldn’t go through the bother of making sure I’m comfortable, would he? He’d probably just chop off my foot with his ax and save himself the trouble.
“Okay, now stand up,” he says when both of my boots are off, “and put your hand on my shoulder.”
I get a fluttering in my chest as I rest my palm on his round muscular shoulder.
“Now, don’t move.”
He tugs down my snow pants and my breath starts to quicken. My heart is pounding as he pulls them down past my hips.
Shit! Why did I wear my dancing pug pajama bottoms?!?
He lets out a chuckle under his breath as he slides my snow pants past my knees.
“Laundry day,” I say as my cheeks start to heat up.
“Mm-hm,” he grunts with a grin on his face.
Every nerve ending in my body seems to be tingling as he slowly guides my ankles out of the snow pants.
“Thanks,” I say as I release my sweaty palm from his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure I can walk to the—”
I take one step and my stupid ankle folds like a house of cards. I drop down faster than my pulse is racing, but he’s quick and his strong sexy arms catch me before I hit the floor. He picks me up as if I’m weightless and carries me to the couch.