The Mountain Man's Kitten - Thickwood CO

He sighs. “Okay, I give in. But if you change your mind…”

“If I change my mind, you’ll be the first person I call.”

“So, am I going to see you this morning?”

I look out at Miller to see him lift a log the size of his head like it’s made of gingerbread, hefting it and walking towards a shed near the house. “I’m kind of busy actually. How about tomorrow?”

“Sure…I have a meeting with Colin first thing. Might finally force Miller Graham into backing down.” He laughs, and I bite my tongue. “But the afternoon is looking good. If Colin has found a loophole I can’t think of anything I’ll want to do except celebrate with my favorite daughter.”

“Only daughter,” I say, deadpan, the way I always do when he says that. The idea of him and Miller going at each other yet again doesn’t exactly set my heart on fire.

Dad laughs and then sighs. “Okay, I can tell you’re busy, so I won’t keep you. See you tomorrow, baby.”

We sign off and I clean up the breakfast dishes. Both Miller and I ate cereal, which I was pleased to find out he appreciates as well. He had my favorite, which was very odd, Frosted Flake Lucky Charms. They aren’t easy to find, but he had three boxes, and we were both sugar buzzing a half-hour later.

I walk back to the window to see him coming up the steps to the cabin and my heart does this new little dance in my chest.

He comes through the door and I never noticed before, but he has to duck a little to get through. His dark hair and beard are sprinkled with the tiny wood chips that also ornament his exposed skin.

“Hi.” He comes in, taking my face in his hand and planting a hard kiss on my lips, like he’s done that a thousand times before when he comes into the house. “You doing okay in here?” He glances around. “Where’s our little one?”

His words have me spinning. Our little one.

“She’s having a nap.” I look over to see Miss Muffet now on her back, legs spread wide, living her best life.

“How it should be.” He smiles this crooked, mountain man smile, as he swipes the backs of his fingers down my cheek.

He smells like the outdoors, the gas from the chainsaw and a little sweat and the combination is surprisingly arousing.

His eyes travel up and down as he moves around me. I’m still sporting his t-shirt, without much underneath.

On a sniff, he bites into his lip then gives me another quick kiss. “I’m going to shower.” He walks away, leaving me feeling a little lost, unsure what I wanted or thought was going to happen, but disappointed nonetheless.

My mom wasn’t perfect, for sure. But she had one sure talent and that’s getting men to fall at her feet, including my father.

And in that moment, something she used to say comes back to me…

Sometimes, a girl needs to put a little honey on the spoon.

Chapter Nine

Katarina

A HALF HOUR LATER, I hear the shower finally quiet and my pulse is rushing in my ears like whitewater rapids.

This is it. I’ve never considered seducing a man before. Especially without the proper…tools, shall we say.

I’m nothing if not resourceful.

I listen as he moves around down the hall in the bedroom. A dresser draw opening and closing.

The squeaking of a hinge.

I look down, wondering if I’ve completely lost my mind.

One of my favorite TV shows is Project Runway. I love the creativity of the challenges, especially the unconventional material challenges.

While Miller was in the shower, I had my own little unconventional challenge.

Under his sink, I found shiny black trash bags. Then, a short hunt later, I found scissors. A few snips and knots later, I’m standing here wearing what I hope looks like a very unconventional, black latex, fuck me frock.

I hope you’re right, Mom.

Steadying my breath, I push my butt into the back of the sofa, cocking one hip out, and I wait for Miller to emerge from the hallway.

The voice in my head spins and doubts start to intrude. How stupid is this?

He left this morning to go outside and cut the tree up, so you can leave girl.

If he wanted to fuck you, he would have done it already.

Oh my God, what am I doing?

I’m stuck. My real clothes are in the bedroom but my purse is on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. I could bolt.

Wearing a trash bag?

A whimper is choking me as Miller fills the end of the hallway fully clothed and the world stops spinning as I watch his face.

He stops. Jaw slack.

Silence.

For. An. Eternity.

“Uh, hi?” I try screwing up my face and wishing I could disappear into the floor.

I try to read the look on his face. Is it shock? Disgust? I won the lottery?