“I have a snowmobile, but all four of us aren’t going to fit on it,” he said.

“It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.” I turned to head back to the room to check in on Dad.

“Mel?” I heard him call my name softly.

I turned my head toward him and caught him staring at me. The look in his eyes told me that he might be fighting the same feelings I was. That both terrified and intrigued me.

“I wasn’t implying that you were a bother,” he said, his eyes boring into mine. “I’ve just had a lot of changes in the past couple of years that I’m still adjusting to,” he said.

I nodded and offered him a smile. If anyone knew about adjusting, it was me. I continued down the hall and called my father.

The day wore on and I grew more comfortable as I watched Evan interact with the children. He laughed with them, played with them, and didn’t become immediately annoyed when they fussed. With each passing moment, he was becoming more and more attractive to me.

My dad still sounded good and assured me that he was eating. Luckily, I had just gone grocery shopping, and there was plenty of soup and lunchmeat to keep him fed until I could get home. He took his pills while on the phone with me again and told me he was going to take a nap.

Dinner had been served and cleared, and Evan was bathing the kids and getting them ready for bed as I cleaned up the kitchen. About half an hour later, he appeared from the hallway, looking exhausted.

“Man, those two wear me out,” he said.

I laughed and came to sit in front of the fire once again.

“Would you like a beer,” Evan offered as he threw another couple of logs into the fireplace.

“I’d love one, thank you,” I said.

He went into the kitchen and returned a moment later with two frosty bottles. I took a long pull of mine and closed my eyes, sighing.

He chuckled a bit, a sound that shook my knees and seemed to flip a switch within my gut.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” he asked.

I smiled and nodded. “It does,” I answered.

We sat in silence for a few minutes before I spoke again.

“It’s really beautiful out here,” I said.

“One of the reasons why I bought the place,” Evan said.

“Is this your permanent residence?”

“It is,” he said.

“Where were you living before that?” I asked.

“Los Angeles,” he said.

“That’s a very stark change,” I said. “Do you like it better here?”

“Oh, yes.”

It was the way he said it that caused me to turn my gaze toward him. He looked tired and haggard at the mere mention of the city, and I wanted to know what had happened. What had pushed him from a budding place like L.A. all the way to a cold and tiny place on the outskirts of Bozeman, Montana?

“Do you work?” I asked.

“Nope, not anymore,” he said, without further explanation. We sat there in relative silence as we both finished our beers. Our eyes were trained on the licking of the fire around the logs that were burning, though I was becoming more aware of how closely Evan had sat down next to me. He wasn’t at the far end of the couch anymore, but rather more toward the center of it.

I started wondering if he’d intentionally moved closer to me.

Tags: Rye Hart Erotic
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