MOUNTAIN GRUMP PROTECTOR

Mountain Grumps

Book 3

LENA RAE

Chapter One

Willow

The envelope in my pocket has exactly $200 in it. It's not enough. I already know it's not enough, but I put my car in park outside of the Rusty Nail anyway. 

Because I’m out of options.

I hope like hell it works.

I take a deep breath and toss my hair over my shoulder, wishing I’d brought an elastic to tie it back. It’s a hot July night, and I can’t stop sweating. Either that, or it’s the stress of what I’m about to walk into, getting to me.

No one ever expects it to get hot in the mountains, especially this high up, but the truth is, we get our fair share of heat.

Even in Iron Peak.

Summers were nicer when we lived on the other side of the valley in Rock Creek. Everything was nicer then.

But there’s no point dwelling on that particular life change.

Especially not now.

I need to focus.

The Rusty Nail isn’t the type of place to let your guard down. I set my jaw, hoping I look tougher than I feel, and pull the heavy door open, stepping inside to the dark, dank bar.

Instantly, I feel every eye in the place on me. Chairs scrape, someone coughs, and I know without looking that I’ve become the focus of every man in the place.

I work hard to keep my face neutral, bored even as I slowly scan the dimly lit room for my target. There’s only a handful of people inside, and unfortunately, I know most of them. Or I know of them.

Iron Peak is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, whether they want to or not, and the men in this bar…I definitely don’t want to know them.

Unfortunately for me, they are the reason I’m here this evening. Well, them and my deadbeat younger brother, who has a habit of creating trouble right before he runs from it.

Leaving me to do the cleanup.

Every time.

My eyes land briefly on the man sitting at the bar, a glass of whiskey in front of him. I’ve seen him before, but not often. He’s one of them.

A man of the mountain.

It’s a stupid name, but it’s how the locals refer to the ex-military men who more or less bought up all the land on the mountain decades ago and live up there by themselves.

Well, mostly by themselves. Lately, there have been rumors that some of the men of the mountain have managed to attract wives.

I can see why.

Even seated, I can tell he’s a massive wall of muscle, and even from my distance with the dim lighting, I can see he’s sexy as hell.

If mountain men almost twice your age are your kind of thing.

And they most definitely are not mine.

I shake off the distraction and return my attention to the entire reason I’ve set foot inside this dingy hole.

I spot my target near the back. Ronnie Hatch.

He’s the kind of man who takes up more space than he’s earned. Heavyset, with greasy hair and a permanent scowl on his pockmarked face.

He’s already watching me. They all are.

I move toward him, eager to get this over with.

“Well, well, well.” He leans on his pool cue and licks his lips as his eyes rake over me, leaving me feeling way too exposed.

I regret the tank top and cutoffs I’m wearing. But it’s not like I have a walk-in closet of options to choose from.

Besides, just because he’s looking doesn’t mean he gets anything more than that.

“I came to pay my brother’s debt,” I say, ignoring the gross way he’s leering at me along with all his cronies who’ve come to gather round.

“Is that right?” He leans back, setting the cue down on the table top before crossing his beefy arms. “And how much do you think that little shit racked up before he ran off this time?”

I swallow hard, hoping he doesn’t see the shake in my arm as I reach for the envelope in my back pocket. “I have two hundred now, and I can get you the rest in⁠—”

“Two hundred?” He almost chokes on his laughter. The sound rolls out of his chest, like he can’t believe what I said. The men around him start snickering and elbowing each other as if they’re all in on a joke that isn’t funny.

I don’t look away. I won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Little lady.” He draws out the words as he steps toward me, pinning me with his eyes. “Your brother owes me twenty-eight hundred dollars. Not two.”

Twenty-eight?

My throat goes dry.

I knew Bryson was in trouble; he always was. But I didn’t think it was that deep. The two hundred in my hand suddenly feels like nothing. Less than nothing.

It might as well be.

“I…” my throat closes around the rest, mostly because I have no idea what to say. “I’ll get the rest,” I manage after a moment. “I just need a little time. Let me give you this as a down payment.”

The truth is, I have no idea how I’m going to come up with any more. Scraping together two hundred dollars had been hard enough. After rent, food, and bills, there’s never enough. Especially since Dad hasn’t worked in…well, I can’t think about how long it had been since he’d brought home a pay cheque.

It may be cheaper to live in Iron Peak, but there isn’t much in the way of work in this backwoods town. At least not unless I want to work at the mill. I will, though, and Lord knows, I’ve tried. But they refuse to hire a woman.

Sexist assholes.

Not that I should be spending any time worrying about that right now. I have much bigger concerns in front of me.

Like the way Ronnie is closing in on me, a leering grin on his face. “Time?” He tilts his head and doesn’t bother hiding the grin on his face. “Your brother already had time. In fact, I gave him three different deadlines and now…here you are.”

I don’t like the look on his face, but I refuse to take a step backward. I will not let him see that he’s getting to me.

“Unless, of course, he’s sent you in payment.”

“Absolutely not,” I spit.

"After all, the price has gone up,” he continues, as if I haven’t spoken at all, and reaches out, tracing one thick, greasy finger down my cheek. It takes all my restraint not to bite it off. “You might just be the right price to pay off his debt after all.”

“Like I said,” I step back, so his hand falls away. “Absolutely not.”

The expression on Ronnie’s face shifts, the slimy smile slipping away, replaced by a leer. “Here’s the thing, little lady.” His voice drops, turning even more menacing. “I’m not an unreasonable man. I’m willing to work something out with you. But if you’re not going to cooperate, the price will continue to go up.”

The way he says it makes my skin crawl. His eyes drop to my chest, then lower even further. I don’t need to ask what exactly he’s willing to work out.

I’m running out of options, but there’s still no way I’m going to allow myself to get drawn into his sick twisted game. Not for a second. I shake my head and take another step backwards, but my escape route is blocked.

“Don’t be like that.” He’s once more standing inches in front of me, as if I haven’t moved at all. He reaches out and twists a strand of my red hair around his fingers. “I wonder if the curtains match the drapes.”

My stomach turns, and I grit my teeth. I will not cry. I will not panic. Not here. Not in this bar.

I’m not known for my cool head. My temper never fails to get the best of me. But I will not lose control. Not now.

“You see, little lady, your brother didn’t just borrow.” Ronnie’s breath is stale beer and cigarettes, hot against my face. “There’s interest. There was the trouble he caused with the boys at the mill last week. There’s the damage he did to my truck when he peeled out of here last time.” He clicks his tongue and narrows his eyes. “Numbers add up real fast when a man doesn’t pay on time.”

It’s a lie. Most of it anyway. But judging by the way his cronies are smirking at each other, it doesn’t matter. We’re long past actual numbers, he’s making it up as he goes, and no matter what he decides, it’s still going to be more than I’ll ever be able to pay. And he knows it.

“So we’re looking at, what, boys? Five grand?”

“Six,” one of them calls out.

“You just said⁠—”

“Six and change,” Ronnie cuts me off as if he hadn’t just tripled the number. “Seems a little steep for a girl with two hundred bucks in her pocket.”

The room laughs, and I’ve never wanted to disappear more in my life.

A taller, skinnier man steps up beside Ronnie. I think his name is Dale. Not that it matters. “What did you say bout her being the right price, Ron? I could think of a few things she could do for me.”

Bile rises in my throat.

“You don’t have a stake in this, Dale.”

His eyes rake up and down me. “I could.”

I try, but fail at suppressing my shiver of revulsion.

“Let’s play for it.” Another voice pipes in.

Play?

“You don’t have a stake in this either, Paul,” Ronnie says, but he’s grinning, obviously enjoying my discomfort.

“I do what I want,” Paul says, joining the others. He holds out a handful of darts. “Let’s play. Closest to the bullseye gets the girl.” 

Gets the girl?

“Oh no.” I shake my head and try to back up, but Ronnie grabs my arm. “I don’t think so.”

“I don’t think you get a choice, little lady.” Ronnie’s eyes narrow, and his grip tightens, telling me exactly what little choice I have.

Chapter Two

Cal

This place is full of assholes, the stink of stale cigarettes, spilled beer, and fryer grease.

I don’t know why I keep coming here.

That’s a lie.

I know exactly why, night after night, I step foot through the doors of the Rusty Nail, sit at this bar, and order a whiskey.

It’s not my cabin.

The cabin way up on the mountain should be my refuge. And for a while it was. But lately, the silence gets too loud.

Every creak of the wood, the way the wind shifts through the pines, even the birds that wake me up before dawn and sing their happy songs until way past sunset, aren’t enough to dull the echo of silence that permeates every inch of my home.

I spend my days in the garage with Murph, my mutt, by my side, working on whatever vehicle found its way to my shop. Murph wandered up the mountain a few winters back, half-starved, and more than half frozen to death.

He lost the tip of his ear to frostbite, but after a few days and a few more meals, he perked up and decided I was his person, whether I wanted him or not.

And I didn’t. Not at first.

The responsibility of any living thing was too much and definitely not what I was looking for in life. Not since my time in the service taught me exactly what happens to people who trust me enough to look out for them.

Murph didn’t take no for an answer, though. And now it’s the two of us.

Just the way I like it.

Yet, something keeps me coming down the mountain twice a week to sit on the same stool at the end of the bar. Where I drink one whiskey, keep my head down, and my hands to myself.

And at the end of the hour, I drive back up the mountain to Murph and the silence I came down to escape.

Nothing much changes at the Rusty Nail. Always the same rowdy roughnecks drinking too much in the corner, the occasional fist fight I stay out of, and the same shitty hot wings.

Only tonight it’s different.

The energy in here is charged in a way I don’t like. When I lift my head from my whiskey glass, my eyes lock on the very reason for the shift in energy.

Her.

I’ve seen her around town once or twice. Cute, curvy, and way too young for me to even be looking in her direction.

Yet, there’s something about her that keeps drawing my gaze. It should be her red hair, her lush ass, and full tits. But it’s something else that draws me to her.

A feisty, yet vulnerable streak that’s hiding under the surface.

No doubt it has something to do with her shitty home life. Not that I know much. But I know enough. Everybody in town does. Her dad's a deadbeat who drinks away every penny he comes across, and her brother's been in this bar enough times for me to know that the apple doesn’t fall from the tree.

But she’s different.

And she certainly doesn’t belong in this shit hole. And definitely not with Ronnie Hatch and his asshole cronies.

I roll the glass between my hands, nursing the amber liquid I should have finished over ten minutes ago. I should be almost back at the cabin now, feeding Murph his dinner, settling in for another evening of…nothing.

Yet, here I am. Watching.

Because there’s something about the scene that’s playing out in the back of the bar that I don’t like.

Then I hear it.

“Closest to the bullseye gets the girl.”

What the actual fuck?

I turn on my stool to see what the fuck is going on.

It’s not her body that stops me, but Christ, that’s hard to ignore.

It’s her face and the mask she’s working hard to keep in place while Hatch holds her arm and his friends close in.

The skinnier guy throws first. A curse, a stamp of his foot, and it lands slightly south of the bullseye.

The next asshole’s turn, and his dart lands closer.

A whoop goes up, and she flinches.

Hell no.

I’m off the stool before I’ve even made a decision.

“I’m in.”

All heads turn in my direction. Hatch’s grin falters. We have an understanding, he and I. He doesn’t bother me, and I don’t go looking into whatever activities he’s actually running out of the back of the bar.

Turns out, this bothers me.

He’s watching me like he’s trying to decide if I’m being friendly or if he’s about to have a problem.

I cross the room slowly. His asshole friends step back, giving me space.

The girl’s eyes snap to mine. I see a flash of relief followed very quickly by the cloud of suspicion. This woman clearly has only had one kind of experience with men, and she’s not about to blindly trust me.

Smart.

“Didn’t take you for a betting man, Cal.”

“I’m not.” I stop two feet in front of him. He’s still got his fingers wrapped around her arm tight enough; I see her skin turning white. “Let go of her.”

“What?”

“Her arm. Let it go.”

“She’s the prize, bud.” He laughs. “I think I’ll⁠—”

“I’m not your bud.” I lower my voice. He flinches like I raised my hand. “And I said, let her go.”

He does. She takes a quick step back, but to her credit, she knows enough not to run. She doesn’t look at me either.

“Closest to the bullseye gets the girl? That’s the deal?” I see her shudder at my question, and I hate myself for having to say it out loud, but I need to know the rules. “And her brother’s debt? Paid?”

“You win, you pay it,” he says, seeing a way he might come out on top. “All of it. Closest to the bulls-eye, take the girl and the brother’s debt.” His eyes drag over her one more time, slowly, just enough to make sure I see it. “Six grand.”

It was less than five a few minutes ago, and only twenty-eight hundred before that. We both know it. We also both know those weren’t the rules before I got involved.

But there’s no version of this where I argue with him in front of his men. Just like there’s no version of this where I leave her in this room with these assholes a second longer than necessary.

“Six grand. Done.”

She makes a small sound. Half-breath, half something I don’t have a name for, but I don’t look at her. I know what she thought she just heard. She thinks I put a price on her, the same way Hatch did.

She’s not entirely wrong, but we’ll sort that out later.

“Your throw.” I nod toward Hatch, who picks up his dart.

He throws. It hits the center ring. It’s a good shot.

“Beat that, Reeves.”

I pick up a dart and roll it around in my fingers as I step up to the line. I don’t bother looking at the woman again. Not until this is finished.

I lift my arm, take aim, and make the shot.

Bullseye.

“What? That’s not⁠—”

“We’re done here.” I reach into my back pocket for my billfold. I don’t have six grand, but I do have two. I slap the money on the table. “Consider this a deposit. I’ll get you the rest.”

“That wasn’t the deal, Reeves,” Hatch tries to argue with me. "It’s six grand or no⁠—”

I step up to him, narrow my eyes, and give him a look that leaves very little room for discussion. “You’ll accept the deposit, Hatch. You know I’m good for it.”

This time, he doesn’t argue.

Finally, I turn to the girl who is still standing slightly back from the action. She’s staring at me now, her expression unreadable like she’s trying to figure out what the hell just happened, and what exactly I’m going to want from her in return.

“We’re leaving,” I tell her.

When she doesn’t immediately make a move to leave, I hold back from reaching for her. I won’t put my hands on her. Not unless she wants me to.

The thought shoots through my head so quickly, I don’t have time to let myself think about what it might mean, before I focus my attention back on the matter at hand.

“Unless I read this all wrong and you want to stay here with these dickheads?”

She opens her mouth to say something, but obviously thinks better of it, presses her lips shut, and finally steps away toward the door.

I turn my back on the men and follow closely behind, only stopping by the bar long enough to throw down a twenty for my still unfinished drink before stepping outside into the hot summer night.

The minute we’re out the door, she spins on her heel and glares at me, her arms crossed over her chest, which has the effect of pushing her tits up almost to the point of spilling out of her tight tank top. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but if you think that I’m⁠—”

“What I think,” I interrupt her. “Is that it’s only going to take Hatch and his band of assholes a few minutes before they decide that they’re not okay with the deal we made, and they’ll be out here looking for you.”

She seems to think of that for a moment. Her gaze glances between me and the door before finally settling on me. This time her expression is easy to read: it's fear.

“Do you think…”

“Yes.” I gesture toward my truck. “I do think. Let’s go.”

She hesitates, but only for a moment before stepping toward the truck. “Why should I go with you?”

“Look, I get why you’re hesitant,” I say. “But right now you don’t have a lot of options. And technically, I did win the shot.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

Chapter Three

Willow

Did he seriously say that?

I open my mouth to tell him exactly where he can stick his "I just won this shot" comment, but I don't get the chance because the door of the Rusty Nail bangs open behind us.

It’s the taller, skinnier one of Ronnie’s douche bag friends. He stops when he sees us, and there is no missing the look in his eyes when he looks at me, as if he knows something I don't.

He leans up against the wall and lights a cigarette, keeping his eyes focused squarely on me, to make sure that I know that he's watching.

Just like that, whatever is left of the fight I have in me drains out of me, and I look over to my protector, if that’s even what he is. I still don’t know what it is he wants from me, but right now this wall of mountain man still seems like a better bet than Ronnie Hatch.

He’s right. And I hate that, but he is. The minute I get in my car and pull away, I'm going to have company. There is no way that Ronnie's going to let me walk away from this, not after basically being humiliated at his own game.

No.

Everything suddenly got a whole lot worse, and there's going to be a price to pay. The problem is, I'm pretty sure that price is going to be me.

I look over at the mountain man and try to think about what I know about him. It's not much more than his name. Cal Reeves. But I know he's the best alternative I've got.

"Look…”

“Willow,” I offer. This asshole doesn’t even know my name.

“Willow,” he repeats, and dammit if my entire body doesn’t react at the way my name sounds on his lips. I shut that thought down real quick; the last thing I need right now is having any kind of feelings that aren’t contempt for this man who just bought me. “I’m not trying to rush you, but it seems we’re running out of time here. You’re welcome to stay, but…”

“I don't even know you.”

"I have a dog named Murph. I fix cars, and I live on the mountain up at Iron Peak."

"I know that much,” I huff, making his lips quirk up in a half grin.

“You do, do you? I thought you said you didn’t⁠—”

“Everyone knows who you are, who all of you are. You’re the men on the mountain,” I say, ignoring his cocky smile. “But that doesn’t mean I know you.”

"I’ll tell you whatever you need to know, Willow, but you gotta make a decision here." He nods towards the man who is now stomping out his cigarette and either getting ready to walk towards us or go back into the bar and get Ronnie. Either way, I'm not interested in hanging around to find out. “I’m not interested in pushing my luck tonight any more than I already have.”

Maybe I don’t know much about him, but what I do know isn’t bad. He didn’t gloat when he won the game. He didn’t ask me for anything. He simply paid the money and got me out of there. And now, he’s holding the passenger door open for me.

“Fine.”

I make my decision and jump into the cab of his truck. “But for the record, I’m not getting in because you won me. I’m getting in because I don’t feel like waiting around to see how pissed off Ronnie is.”

“Noted.” He shuts the door and turns away with a shake of his head, but not before I notice the half smile on his face.

Cal gets in beside me, turns the key, and puts the old truck in drive, pulling out of the lot.

I don’t speak until he takes a left instead of a right at the end of the street. “I live out on the old trunk road,” I tell him, pointing in the opposite direction.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says without taking his eyes off the road. “You’re not going home. Not tonight.”

A fresh wave of anger flares up inside me. I should have known better than to trust a mountain man, and now I’m stuck in his truck going God knows where. “I don’t know what you think you just bought, but⁠—”

“The debt.”

He still doesn’t look at me.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

I wait for him to say more. He doesn't. I spin in my seat so I'm staring at him. “Then why am I in your truck right now?”

“Because every man in that bar watched you walk outta there with me, Willow. As far as they are concerned, I did win you. Do you really think they're gonna let you leave this place on your own after what just happened back there?"

I open my mouth, then close it, spin back around, and stare out the windshield.

We drive in silence for another moment before I say, "So where are we going?"

“My place.”

“Excuse me. What makes you think I'm going back to your house?”

He laughs.

The bastard actually laughs at my question, as if it's so crazy for me to wonder why the hell I’d be willing to go to some stranger’s house way the hell up on the mountain.

“Look, Willow. I get that you have trust issues,” he says after a moment, as if he knows me at all. “But as I said before, you don’t have a lot of options right now.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m sure you can. Tomorrow. Or whenever this all blows over.”

There’s nothing else I can say, because the last thing I’m going to do is admit that he’s right. Not when he actually is. With a huff, I cross my arms over my chest and stare out the window.

“He’s still going to be pissed with me,” I say. “Even in the morning.”

“He’ll get over it.”

I huff again, harder this time. I’m not in the mood to be reasonable, and he’s being so calm, I want to scream.

We drive in silence for a few minutes. The road climbs and twists as we leave the small township of Iron Peak behind and move higher up the mountain, where Cal and his military buddies are known to own most of the land up on the mountain, and I meant what I said; everyone knows of them.

They’re grumpy mountain men who mostly keep to themselves, and up until very recently, when a few of them found women who agreed to marry them, they’re not known to take kindly to intruders.

I’ve never ventured up here before. There was never a reason to.

Until now, apparently.

I don’t let my thoughts drift too far into the reality of what I’m doing, heading up into the wilderness with a stranger and no way out.

I think about my brother instead, and how the hell I’m possibly going to get out of this latest mess he’s gotten me into. Bryson skipped town two days earlier, leaving me to clean up after him. That’s not new.

That’s the problem.

It’s not the first time he’s left me to fix what he’s broken.

The whole reason we’re even in Iron Peak is his fault. We had to move across the valley from Rock Creek, where there were actually jobs, and people, and…well, everything that the rough, isolated village doesn’t have, because of the debts Bryson—and Dad—racked up.

Now we’re trapped. With almost no money, very few prospects, and as of a few hours ago…more debts that couldn’t be paid. Only now, my safety seems to be on the line, as well.

I squeeze my eyes shut long enough to blot out the unshed tears that I refuse to let spill down my cheeks. I hate crying.

I hate even more that when I get overwhelmed or frustrated, that’s exactly what I do.

“We’re almost there,” Cal says, getting from the seat next to me, like maybe he’s noticed the shift in my emotions.

I swallow hard and pull myself together, opening my eyes in time to see him turn off the main forestry road onto an even smaller and rougher one.

“You're pretty far out,” I say, trying not to sound concerned about the remote location.

“Not really. I’m the closest to town. The others are all further up.”

I assume the others refer to his buddies. Rumor has it they all bought their properties on the mountain many years earlier, when they were still in the military. One of them, Luke, maybe, has experience with money and apparently invested all of their money, so now they’re all millionaires living like recluses.

That’s the story anyway.

The cabin comes into view in the dim light. It’s bigger than I expected. Especially since he lives alone. At least, I assume he does.

A big, black and white dog jumps up from the porch and runs out to greet the truck as we pull up in the yard.

He cuts the engine and is out of the truck before I can say anything. It takes me a second to realize he’s coming to open my door as if I’m some sort of package he picked up at the bar. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit around and wait for a man to come and let me out.

He’s already at my door when I drop down out of the cab into the dirt. His mouth tightens, but I ignore him in favor of the dog who’s come running over.

“What’s his name?” I ask as I bend down to pet him.

“That’s Murph. Be careful with him,” I jerk my hand back and stare at Cal, horrified. “If you pet him, he’ll never leave you alone,” he says with a shake of his head.

Taking the challenge, Murph licks my hand and rests his head against my knee. “Too late.”

The corner of Cal’s mouth twitches for a moment, and then it’s gone.

“Come on.” He nods toward the cabin.

The dog follows close behind me as we climb the steps to the porch and step inside the cabin. His presence gives me a sense of calm, even though I’ve just set foot into a remote cabin with a strange man three times my size.

Inside, it smells like cedar, woodsmoke, and faintly like motor oil. I did see what looked like a garage around the back, but the inside of the cabin is clean. Really clean. That throws me. Half-feral mountain men aren’t supposed to keep clean houses. Are they?

“Bedroom is the second door on the left,” Cal points down the hall. “Bathroom is next to it. Clean towels under the sink. Take a shower if you want.”

I open my mouth to object, but he stops me. “There’s a clean shirt on the chair in there. Take it.”

“I don’t⁠—”

“You’re shivering, Willow,” he says simply. “It’s colder up here, and you’re hardly dressed for it.”

I look down at my tank and cutoffs. He’s not wrong. But I’m pretty sure my shivering has nothing to do with the temperature.

"Put it on.” He turns away. “Door locks.”

Door locks.

“Where are you going to be?”

“Out here. I’m not sleeping tonight anyway.”

I could argue with him, but what’s the point? I’m exhausted, and he’s right, I’m shaking, whether it be from the cold or from everything that’s happened, and the man who just paid six grand for me less than an hour ago is pointing me toward a bedroom with a lock, and from what I can tell, has absolutely no intention of joining me or cashing in on his purchase.

I don’t have any fight left in me. Without another word, I head down the hall.

His bedroom is clean, the bed made neatly. It shouldn’t surprise me, he was in the military after all. The shirt is right where he said it would be. Soft gray flannel. It smells like him.

I shrug it on, and the warmth envelopes me.

I close the door and reach for the lock.

It clicks. I stand there with my hand on the bolt for a moment, not sure if I’m locked in or out. Not that it matters for the moment.

Cal paid real money to get me away from those men. He doesn’t know me, and from what I can tell, he doesn’t seem to want anything from me.

And that’s the part I don’t understand.

Chapter Four

Cal

I wait till I hear the lock click behind her before I turn away.

Good girl.

The sound immediately takes me to a place I’ve tried for decades to forget. A different door. A different lock and a different woman, I told her to keep it shut and locked until I came back.

She did.

I didn’t.

I shut the memory down before it can get the rest of the way in. I’ve had practice.

At my feet, Murph whines and nudges my hand, like he knows.

He’s had practice, too.

“Come on, buddy.”

I meant what I told her. I won't be sleeping tonight, not with Ronnie and his buddies all fired up.

They know where I live, and the combination of an embarrassed asshole and alcohol can be unpredictable at best.

I head to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water, I’m not likely to drink, only because I need to do something with my hands.

What the hell have I done?

I bought a woman. That’s what the fuck I did. There’s no other way to put it. I walked into the bar for a whiskey and walked out two grand poorer with a woman in my passenger seat.

A gorgeous woman.

Gorgeous or not, everything about her screams trouble. I should be staying far, far away from her.

On instinct, I glance towards my closed, locked bedroom door.

There’s no way I could have sat back and watched Hatch and his asshole friends pass her around like she was some kind of prize. And that's probably true for any woman, but there's something extra about her...

“We’re in trouble, buddy.” I scratch Murph’s head and give him a dog biscuit from the jar on the counter.

Because now, she’s in my bed, and whatever sense I thought I had, I left on the bar with my unfinished drink when I walked out with Willow.

My phone on the counter buzzes before I can even finish my thought, which is probably a good thing since I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do with the mess I’ve put myself into.

A few months ago, a phone call interrupting my peace might have been a cause for alarm. But ever since Holt and Luke found themselves women to fall in love with, the two of them suddenly seem to be on a mission to bring that happiness to the rest of us.

I don’t have the heart to tell them that love isn’t in the cards for me. Not that I should have to. They were both there when I lost everything. They’ve had front row seats to the wreckage ever since. More than anyone, they should know exactly how I feel about letting anyone get close enough to get hurt.

But I already know that’s not what this call is about.

I hit the button to accept the call. “Luke.”

“What the hell are you playing at, buddy?”

I press my lips together and shake my head. “Good news travels fast.”

“You should know there’s no such thing as a secret in a town like this,” my buddy says. “Just like you should know not to mess with Hatch and his crew. What the hell were you thinking?”

I blow out a breath. “I was thinking that I couldn’t sit there and let those assholes barter with a woman’s life,” I tell him through clenched teeth. “You would have done the same, and you know it.”

There’s silence on the other end for a moment before, finally, Luke admits. “You’re not wrong.”

“I know.” I run my hand over my face and through my beard. I may not be wrong, but Luke’s not either. I should know better than to mess with Hatch. He’s not the kind of trouble any of us needs.

“So it’s true that you bought a woman off him?”

“Fuck, Luke,” I snap. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Then tell me what happened.” His voice is calm and even, a direct contrast to the anger I’m trying to keep under control. “Because word has it that you won a young woman in a game of darts and then paid him for her. That sounds an awful lot like⁠—”

“Not another word.” My voice is thick with warning. “I paid off her debt,” I say after swallowing hard. “Her brother’s debt,” I amend, but don’t bother adding that Ronnie more than tripled the price once it was clear I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Those assholes weren’t about to let her walk out of there, and there was no way I was going to sit by and let it happen. But you know me well enough to⁠—”

“I know,” he stops me. “She’s more than safe in your hands,” he finishes. “And you’re right, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Cal. It’s just… it doesn’t look good.”

“I’m aware of what it looks like.” My gaze darts toward my closed—and locked—bedroom door. I’m more than aware of what this whole situation looks like, and worse, how Willow is obviously feeling about it. She’s obviously never had anyone do anything nice for her, only because it was the right thing to do. Especially not a man.

I didn’t miss the way she looked at me.

There’s a long pause on his end. I know my friend well enough to know he’s deciding how hard to push me.

“You good?” he asks finally.

“Fine.”

“You’re sure.”

I blow out a breath. “She’s locked in my bedroom for the night, and I have my eye on the door. She’s safe. I’ll know if anyone comes up here tonight. Not that I really think they’re that stupid.”

“Right,” he says slowly. “I wasn’t worried about her.”

I set the glass down harder than I mean to, and water splashes onto the counter. He’s worried about me, something I haven’t given him cause to be in a long time. And that pisses me off more than it should, because I’d rather he not start worrying about anything he can’t control. Not tonight.

“I’m fine, Luke,” I repeat, this time with an edge he can’t ignore.

He blows out a breath. “Just be careful, buddy. Those men aren’t to be fucked with.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“Right.”

It’s all I have left in me to say.

“I’m just a call away,” he says. “All of us are. You know that.”

“I do.” I scrub my hand over my face. “There’s one more thing. I’m into Hatch for the rest of what I owe, and I don’t keep that kind of cash up here. You headed to the city soon?”

There’s a pause, and then, “Tomorrow.”

“Can you pull a couple grand from my account and bring it up?”

Another pause. “You sure about this, Cal?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then it’s done. I’ll have it in a few days.”

We end the call, and I drop the phone on the counter before dropping my head. Murph leans against my leg, pressing the weight of his body into me until I rest a hand on his head and look up. Outside the window, darkness has fallen, dropping my yard, my shop, and my truck into shadows.

I’m not worried about Hatch and his buddies getting past me. We may be remote up here on the mountain, but we’re not stupid.

When Luke, Holt, Sawyer, Beck, and I bought up these properties years ago, we’d still been young and idealistic about the world. We had dreams that time, and experience hadn’t touched yet. By the time we left the military and settled on Iron Peak properly, things had changed. We’d changed.

Luke installed the state-of-the-art telecommunications system for his finance business, with the added benefit of keeping us all in communication, whether we wanted to be or not. Over the years, we’ve also added security systems.

There’s a difference between living remotely and leaving yourself exposed and vulnerable. We were grumpy mountain men—most of us anyway—not idiots. I value my privacy, and I won’t hesitate to protect it if it ever comes to that.

Eventually, I pick up my glass and move to the oversized chair by the front window and settle in, Murphy at my feet, my eyes on the darkness outside, my mind still fixed on the hesitation in my buddy’s voice when I insisted I was fine.

I know he remembers it almost as clearly as I do.

Over the years, I’ve been able to block out that memory more often than not, but Willow’s face tonight when Hatch laid his grubby hands on her brought all of those memories back in vivid color.

Willow is not her. It’s not the same. Everything about this situation is different.

It’s a lie, and I know it.

The cabin is quiet. I hope Willow was able to settle in okay and get the sleep she needs while I spend my evening staring at the dark road that no one will dare to drive up.

I meant it when I told Luke I didn’t think Hatch was stupid enough to make a move tonight. But that doesn’t mean I think he won’t.

It’s a matter of time.

And hopefully by that time, I’ll have figured out what the hell I’m going to do about it.

Chapter Five

Willow

The sound of the birds outside wakes me up before the sun.

Obviously, we have birds down at our shitty little rental house, too. But there’s something different about being this high up on the mountain that makes the world feel quieter somehow. Like all the noise and ugliness from town can’t quite reach this place.

The scent of something warm and masculine is lingering in the sheets around me.

Cal.

My stomach tightens at the reminder of exactly where I am.

Still, I let myself sink deeper into the pillows for one more minute and listen to the peaceful sounds outside, because I already know the second my feet hit the floor, none of that peace is going to survive the day ahead of me. 

For a few minutes, I manage to keep thoughts of the night before away, but then they start to creep in.

The Rusty Nail. Hatch. The dart game. The debt that only seemed to get bigger. And finally, the big, grumpy mountain man, who had never met me, came out of nowhere to win me, handing over a couple of thousand dollars before more or less kidnapping me to his remote cabin up the mountain.

Okay, he didn't really kidnap me. But I wasn’t left with much of a choice.

Now, I’m in his bed, and I still have no idea why he did it or what he wants from me.

But I’m not naive enough to think he won’t want something. Men always do.

There’s a creak right outside my locked door. There’s a pause and then a tentative knock.

“Coffee?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” I fire back without thinking, and immediately regret my sharp response when I hear his footsteps retreating down the hall without another word.

Guilt pricks almost instantly.

Fantastic.

He’s been nothing but nice to me. Saves me from the town sleaze, gives me his bed, doesn’t murder me in my sleep, and the first thing I do is snap at him when he’s once more trying to be kind.

Nice, Willow. Real nice.

I rub the heels of my palms into my eyes and stare up at the ceiling for another second before throwing the blankets back and slipping out of bed.

The shirt Cal lent me the night before hangs past my thighs, so I don’t bother with my dirty cutoffs for the moment as I crack the bedroom door carefully and step into the hall.

The cabin is quiet except for the low hum of something from the kitchen and the occasional creak of wood settling around me.

I take a moment to look around and take in my surroundings. Morning light spills through the windows, painting the room in a soft glow that makes the cabin look much…safer and warmer than the night before.

Making my way down the hall, I can’t help but notice how quiet it is. No television blaring with whatever sports game is on, no yelling, no smashing bottles.

Just…quiet.

And there, standing at the stove with his back to me, is Cal.

For a second, before he notices me there, I stare.

Because this man is honestly totally unfair to look at this early in the morning.

It’s not that I didn’t notice before, but I was preoccupied and not able to fully appreciate exactly how incredibly sexy my savior is.

And massive.

His broad shoulders stretch beneath a dark grey shirt with the sleeves shoved up enough to expose thick, tanned forearms. His dark hair is still damp from the shower, and even from across the room, I can smell his clean, soapy scent.

He’s annoyingly attractive. Beyond attractive, really.

If I were looking. And I’m not looking. I’m never looking.

Not for a man. Absolutely not.

For my whole life, men have been nothing but a major pain in my ass. No, thank you.

As if sensing me standing there, he glances over his shoulder. “I made you tea.”

A wave of gratitude and something else I can’t identify hits me. “Tea?”

“You said you don’t drink coffee.”

“I don’t.” I step forward and take the mug he’s offering me.

“I guessed.”

“Thank you.” I look down into the mug of black liquid and inhale deeply.

“There’s milk and sugar,” he says. “I wasn’t sure what. You⁠—”

I take a splash of both and take a sip. “Perfect.”

And it is. I wrap my hands around the mug and let it warm me before I step toward the window and look outside.

I should be on guard, and I need to remind myself to keep my walls up. After all, I am in a strange man’s house, isolated from…well, everything. He hasn’t told me yet what he wants from me. But I have a few ideas.

Still, at this moment with a cup of tea in my hand, the birds singing in the trees and the blue sky outside, for a moment I let myself believe that my entire life isn’t totally screwed up and I’m not currently in the middle of the most messed up situation my family has managed to get me mixed up in.

And that’s saying something.

He doesn’t say anything while I take my time with my tea. It’s not until I turn away from the window that Cal says, “I made breakfast.”

It’s only then that I notice the plate of food on the counter. Eggs, bacon, and toast. The moment I set eyes on it, my mouth waters.

“What’s that?”

“Breakfast.” He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.

I tilt my head and narrow my eyes. “Why?”

Cal grabs a towel and wipes his hands. “Because it’s the first meal of the day.”

“But why did you make it?” My lips twist into a scowl before I can stop them. “For me?”

What do you want from me?

Is the real unasked question hanging in the air between us

“Because you need to eat, Willow.” He speaks every word slowly as if I might have trouble understanding. “That’s it. There’s no hidden agenda.” I narrow my eyes, but he ignores me and points to the plate. “Go ahead. I already ate.”

My stomach chooses that moment to growl, so I reach for the plate and immediately retreat to the solid wood table on the other side of the room. I sit with my back to the wall and dig in.

After a few bites, I wipe my lips and say, “You make breakfast for all the women you drag home from the bar?”

The words slip out defensive and sharp before I can stop them.

His shoulders stiffen for half a second.

“You always so prickly with people who’ve done nothing but save your ass?”

His retort takes me off guard.

“Only the ones who want something from me.”

His jaw tightens, and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. It’s only then that I notice the fine lines around his eyes and realize how much older than me he is. By at least fifteen or twenty years. He’s definitely closer to my father’s age than my own.

But he looks nothing like the gaunt, hollowed-out shell my father has become from years of turning to alcohol and pills in search of the life he’d lost when my mother died.

“I don’t want anything from you, Willow.” His voice is low and rough, rumbling directly to my core.

I have no reason to believe him.

Except, of course, for the fact that since rescuing me, he hasn’t done anything except be kind.

I’m not going to apologize. We’re not there. Not yet.

I turn back to my breakfast and stab a piece of bacon with my fork.

From where he’s standing across the room, he sighs and shakes his head. I pretend not to notice.

He doesn’t say another word until I’ve finished the food on my plate, and the second I do, he clears my plate before I have a chance to stand up.

“I could have done that.”

“I’m sure you could have,” he says without looking back. “But you don’t have to. You’re a guest.”

“Is that what I am?”

And just like that, the sharp defense mode is activated. I jump up from the chair and cross my arms over my chest.

When he turns from the sink and sees me, I don’t miss the way his lips twitch into a half smile, and he shakes his head like he’s trying, but failing to figure me out. I also don’t miss the way his eyes dart down to my bare legs before he meets my gaze.

Okay, maybe I should have put my shorts on.

“What game are you playing?”

“Sorry?”

“Game, Cal.” I don’t even try to keep the fire out of my voice. “You’re obviously playing at something,” I continue. “I just can’t figure out what the hell it is. But I know it’s something because no one just buys a woman minutes before kidnapping her and hauling her up to his cabin in the middle of nowhere and doesn’t want something. So what is it?”

He takes one step forward before thinking better of it and stopping. “Maybe I just didn’t like the alternative.”

“That’s not an answer,” I say. “And it doesn’t make any sense.”

Something flickers in his expression, but it’s gone as quickly as it came before he says, “To be clear,” he says. “I did not buy you. I paid your debt.”

“My brother’s debt,” I interject.

“Whatever,” he shakes his head as if it’s not an important detail. “I also did not kidnap you,” he continues. “If I remember correctly, you got into my truck of your own free will.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice.”

“You’re not a prisoner,” he says. “You’re free to go anytime you like.”

Those words should be all I need to get the hell out of here and go check on my dad. He didn’t answer when I called earlier, and all of my text messages have gone unread.

Still, even with Cal’s release, I hesitate because for one stupid second, I allow myself to forget what’s actually waiting for me down the mountain.

Real life.

A runaway brother. A drunk father. Ronnie Hatch.

Nothing good.

Still, is it really much better here in a remote cabin with a massive man who still hasn’t told me what he wants from me?

At least down in town, I know what to expect, and I can defend myself against it.

“Great. I’ll go change,” I say after a moment, set my tea mug down, and head for the bedroom and my clothes, before he can stop me.

Cal

The minute the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. Well, not entirely. After all, she’s not a prisoner, and obviously she’s free to leave. But the little that I know of this spitfire woman is that she’s impulsive, reckless and prone to making poor choices.

I still don’t think it’s safe in town, at least not until Luke’s back from the city and I’ve paid the rest of what I owe to Hatch. But I meant what I said, I won’t hold anyone against their will. That’s not how I operate.

I take my coffee and, with Murph at my heels, head out to the garage to wait for her. Maybe a few minutes of puttering on my latest project will help clear my head.

Ten minutes later, I’m elbow deep under the hood of the old Chevy I picked up last month, trying to focus on literally anything except Willow Callahan and the way her long, lean, bare legs looked standing half naked in my kitchen this morning.

I’m so lost in thoughts I have no business thinking, I don’t even realize how much time has gone by without her reappearing, until finally I pull myself out from under the hood, wipe my hands on a rag, and look at the time.

“Where the hell is she?” I ask the dog, who lifts his head with a whine in response to my question.

Surely, it doesn’t take that long to put a pair of shorts on?

Murph whines, looking toward the shop door and yard beyond.

Fuck.

“She left, didn’t she, buddy?”

I know it in my gut. God damn stubborn woman. I should’ve known better than to leave her for even a minute. Her complete mistrust of anyone doing anything even remotely kind for her is going to get her killed.

I slam the hood of the truck I’m working on and head out to the yard, half expecting to find that she stole my truck.

But no, she must have left on foot.

It’s a long walk. And a dangerous one, too, with wolves and bears frequenting the area. Never mind the very real risk of the group of assholes out there that are no doubt looking for revenge.

Chapter Six

Cal

I spot her further down the forestry road than expected. She must have been moving at a pretty good pace. Either that, or she got a bigger head start than I realized.

She’s still wearing my shirt over her tank top, it drops over her cut-off shorts, giving me a perfect view of those legs I haven’t been able to stop fantasizing about having wrapped around me as she stomps her way down the gravel road.

I pull up next to her on the narrow road and unroll the window. “You plan on walking the whole way to town?”

She doesn’t even look in my direction. “I don’t need to owe you any more than I already do.”

“You don’t owe me a thing, darling.”

I see the way she automatically tenses, and I can’t help but wonder for at least the dozenth time what exactly has happened in Willow’s life to create such a deep mistrust of men.

“I don’t need any more of your help. I can walk.”

“I’m sure you can.” I try not to chuckle at her fierce independence. “But these old forestry roads can be a bit of a maze if you don’t know where you’re going. Never mind the bears and wolves.”

That gets her attention. “Bears?” She stops walking.

I press my foot to the brake and nod. “And wolves.”

She looks like she thinks about it for a second, then lifts her chin and crosses her arms. “I’ll take my chances,” she says. “I’d rather walk.”

“That makes one of us, darling.”

She shoots me a glare and starts walking. Faster this time.

“Dammit, Willow,” I call. “You can hate me from the passenger seat, okay?” Once more, I let the truck start moving to keep up with her.

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

Willow

I should get in the truck.

I know it.

My feet are screaming at me, and I know without looking that my blisters probably already have blisters. The smart thing, the only thing, would be to get into the truck. So, of course, I keep walking.

Mostly because I’m stubborn. But also because every time I look at the grumpy mountain man with his big, broad shoulders, thick forearms, and dark eyes that seem to look right through me, I forget to think straight.

It’s deeply irritating how attractive he is.

And dangerous. Way too dangerous, considering I already owe him. I don’t need to be adding to that list.

Especially since I don’t trust him.

Or myself when I’m around him.

I veer suddenly onto one of the narrower side roads that branches off into the trees. Mostly because I need distance from him, and partly because if he calls me darling one more time, I might lose my mind.

Or my control.

I move so quickly, Cal doesn’t have time to react, and the truck rumbles past the opening.

This old road is rougher than the main one, almost completely swallowed by shrubs and low-hanging branches. I don’t need to be an expert on the area to know it’s not going to lead me to town. I keep walking anyway. Gravel crunches beneath my boots, my blisters screaming at me with every step.

Behind me, I hear the rumble of Cal’s truck followed by the slamming of his door. “Willow!”

I keep moving.

“Willow!” He calls, his voice is a combination of frustration and the slightest trace of humor.

This time I pause, and when I do, I hear the rumble of an engine.

Cal’s truck is off. It’s not his.

Which means…

I freeze.

Maybe Cal was exaggerating about the risk of bears and wolves, but Ronnie Hatch and his friends? That danger is real.

“Willow.” He doesn’t call out this time, and something in his voice makes every nerve in my body go tight.

The other engine gets louder, and I finally turn around, catching the flash of a red truck through the trees in the distance.

Ronnie’s truck.

For one horrible second, I can’t move. Fear has me locked in place.

Cal reaches me a heartbeat later. One arm wraps around my waist while his other hand grips the back of my neck, and suddenly I’m being hauled backwards into the trees with my body pressed tight against his hard wall of muscle.

“Get down.”

A gasp slips from my throat, that I only barely manage to stifle as we stumble through the brush before he crouches behind a thick cluster of pines, pulling me down with him.

“Can they see us?” I whisper even though there’s no way they can hear us.

“I don’t know.” His jaw tightens.

Out on the main road, the truck slows, idling way too close to the turnoff of the road we’re hiding in.

My pulse pounds so hard I can barely hear anything else. I feel like I must stop breathing entirely for a second.

Cal keeps one arm locked around my waist, holding me tight while he keeps watch. His presence soothes me, making me feel safe in the most unexpected way. Mostly because I can’t remember the last time I ever felt calmed by the presence of another person.

I can feel every inch of him pressed against me. The solid wall of his chest, the heat of his body, the rough scrape of denim beneath my fingers where I’ve instinctively grabbed hold of his leg.

After a moment, the truck’s engine revs and pulls away up the road.

Relief crashes through me so fast it leaves me shaky. But I also know it’ll be short-lived.

If Ronnie is on the mountain, it means exactly what I’ve been afraid of. He’s not done with me yet.

Going home isn’t safe.

The realization hits me hard.

I’m not safe.

Cal exhales slowly, but doesn’t release me, and suddenly I’m painfully aware of how close we are and why. If it weren’t for Cal coming after me. Grabbing me and pulling me into the trees. Ronnie would have seen me.

I’m safe with Cal.

The scent of cedar, soap, and motor oil clings to him. One of his huge hands is spread across my waist, his thumb pressing lightly into my bare skin where my tank top rode up a bit during our scramble.

My heart is still pounding hard. Only now it has nothing to do with the risk of being seen.

I tilt my head up before I can stop myself. Cal’s gaze drops to my mouth instantly. And before I can think better of it, I kiss him.

His lips are soft and warm, and for one delicious moment, he kisses me back. His hand tightens on my waist, and I loop my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

It’s been so long since I kissed someone. Even longer since it was someone I wanted to kiss.

It feels good. He feels good.

Cal groans softly against my mouth.

Then suddenly he stills.

One second, he’s kissing me, the next he’s pulling back hard enough that I almost fall backward.

“Fuck,” he mutters roughly.

My arms fall away, and I let them slide down his chest, resting long enough to feel how hard his chest rises and falls while he works to pull himself together. His eyes are scanning the trees, every line in his body tense.

Reality crashes back in all at once.

“We need to go.” Cal grips my waist and practically hauls me upright with him when he gets to his feet. “Now.”

I blink up at him, still dazed from the kiss. He keeps one hand on my lower back as he guides me out of the trees back toward his truck.

This time, I don’t protest about getting in when he holds the door open.

To my surprise, we don’t head back to the main road at all. Instead, Cal continues down the rougher side road, disappearing into the trees.

But I’m not paying attention. Because despite everything happening around us, all I can think about is that kiss and the way he kissed me back, like maybe he wanted me as badly as I suddenly wanted him.

Chapter Seven

Cal

By the time we make it back to the cabin, I’ve navigated three different back roads, each rougher than the last. With Hatch on the main road, I didn’t want to risk running into him.

Not that I can’t handle him.

I can.

I don’t want to. Not yet. After last night, I’ve had enough of that asshole for a while. Besides, I know he’ll want his cash, and considering Luke needs to grab it from the city, that’ll take a few days.

When I face him, I’ll do it on my terms. Not his. Period.

Truthfully, we could’ve been back at the cabin thirty minutes ago, but I take my time on the roads, and it’s not just about avoiding the asshole.

It’s about avoiding whatever the hell happened between the two of us back there in the bushes.

Not that I don’t want to kiss her.

I do. Fuck, of course I do.

Willow is undoubtedly the sexiest woman I have ever laid eyes on, and it’s about way more than her looks, which, on their own, are enough to fill my fantasies.

Mostly, it’s that fiery attitude she has and the spark behind her eyes that constantly makes me wonder what she's thinking and what she’ll do next.

That combination is more than enough to get me into trouble when it comes to her. And I'm not going there. I promised myself years ago I wouldn't go there again, and I won't, especially not when it comes to a woman who needs my help.

Never again.

We're mostly quiet on the drive back. It's not until I pull into the yard and it’s mercifully free of any signs of Hatch and his idiot friends that I finally say, "Whatever you need to be comfortable here for a few days, just let me know."

“I can't stay forever.”

“A few days,” I repeat. “Long enough for Hatch to worry about something else and forget about you.” Not that I think any man could ever forget about Willow. Not if he was paying attention. She was not the kind of woman you forget about. “And for me to get the money I owe him together,” I say, refocusing myself on the matter at hand. “Then he’ll have no reason to bother you anymore.”

I hoped like hell that was true.

Having Willow in my space for a few days was going to be hard enough. I didn’t need to prolong it.

I get out of the truck and go around to the other door to help her out, but she’s already jumped to the ground. I don’t miss the wince of pain on her face when she takes a step.

I reach for her, but she pulls away, shooting me a look. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” I glance down at her boots with a smirk.

I know enough about this woman already to know that she’s about to do her damndest to prove me wrong, so I cross my arms over my chest and watch while she limps her way through a few more steps.

She works hard to swallow back the gasps of discomfort, but I’ve seen enough.

With a sigh and a shake of my head, I close the distance between us, bend, and scoop her up easily in my arms.

As I knew she would, she immediately puts up a fight, but I hold her tight so she can’t hit me and look down at her pretty face and those delicious lips that I very recently had the pleasure of tasting for myself.

“Put me down.”

There’s enough fire in her voice that under any other circumstances, I probably would’ve laughed.

I tighten my hold on her and keep walking toward the cabin while she squirms against my chest and tries her best to bruise my ribs.

Murph, sensing the excitement, hops down from his spot on the porch and jumps and barks around us as I carry her across the yard.

“You done?”

“Put me down,” she says, this time through gritted teeth.

“You’re not walking on those feet, Willow.” I soften my voice enough to let her know I’m not joking. “Not unless you plan on hopping the rest of the way.”

Her lips press together like she’s trying not to react, which tells me I might be getting closer to a real smile.

And now, more than anything, I want to see that smile aimed in my direction.

Which is a problem.

I shouldn’t care whether she smiles at me. And I definitely shouldn’t care that some of the fear is finally easing out of her.

But I do. And that’s going to be trouble if I don’t get a handle on it. Especially after that kiss.

“You’re so annoying,” she mutters under her breath and looks away.

“I’ve heard that before.”

She huffs out a breath and finally stops fighting me as I carry her up the porch steps. I’m not stupid enough to believe that she suddenly trusts me, but I also don’t think Willow’s a fool. She might be stubborn, but so am I, and I’m pretty sure she understands that I’m not going to put her down until I can take a proper look at her feet.

The moment her body relaxes against mine, every muscle in mine stiffens in response.

It’s been way too long since I’ve held a woman like this. Or at all.

Definitely long enough to forget how dangerous it can be when it feels this good. She smells like the grass and flowers from the bushes we’d been hiding in. But there’s something else lingering there, too. Something a little spicy. Just like her.

That’s all it takes, and I’m overwhelmed with the urge to discover exactly what it is and how that sweet spiciness would taste on my tongue.

The moment I step into the cabin, it feels smaller than it did this morning.

I lower her carefully onto the couch before she can start fighting me, but the second my hands leave her waist, she scoots backwards, trying to put space between us.

I pretend not to notice. Mostly because if I acknowledge how much it bothers me, I’m going to have to start acknowledging a whole lot of other things when it comes to Willow.

And I am most certainly not going to start doing that.

“Stay there.”

Her brows lift. “Bossy.”

“Stubborn,” I mutter under my breath as I head for the bathroom and the first aid kit.

To my surprise, when I return a few minutes later, she hasn’t moved. Not that she would have gotten very far on those feet.

I crouch in front of her, the first aid kit next to me, and reach for a boot.

“I can do it myself.”

“I know.” I lift my gaze to hers and hold it for a moment, waiting for the challenge I’m sure will come.

It doesn’t, so I start work gently loosening the laces of her boot, careful not to jostle it too much as I slide it off her foot.

The second I do, she hisses in a breath.

“Jesus.” I shake my head and clench my teeth. It’s worse than I thought.

She’s not wearing socks, and the skin all along the back of her heel has been rubbed completely raw. A blister has already broken open from the walking.

And that’s only one foot.

“What?” She tries to pull her leg back, but I hold her foot gently but firmly. “It’s fine.”

“You know it’s not.” I shake my head. “Where are your socks?”

She doesn’t bother answering my question. Instead, she says, “It’s just a little blister.”

“Are you always so determined to pretend that everything’s fine when it’s obviously not?”

She opens her mouth but shuts it, pressing her lips into a tight line before she admits, “It’s usually easier that way.”

The quiet honesty in her voice takes me off guard. For a second, all I can think about is how she’s probably spent way too long taking care of everyone else while no one has bothered to make sure she’s okay.

The thought twists something in my chest. Something I push away before I can let myself think about it too much.

Without another word, I remove her other boot and get to work cleaning her up.

She jerks at the first touch of the antibiotic cream. “Sorry.”

Her eyes snap to mine like she wasn’t expecting that word from me. “It’s okay,” she says quietly, the fight gone from her voice now. “It’s just a little sensitive.”

It’s the first time she’s admitted even the slightest bit of weakness. I don’t draw attention to it, but continue smoothing the cream over the sore spots as gently as I can.

I’m in dangerous territory. What I should do is step away, throw a handful of Band-Aids at her, and let her take care of it herself before I lose my damn mind over a woman I’ve only just met.

Instead, I stay where I am and finish the job, taking my time placing each bandaid as carefully as I can.

Somewhere along the way, I can feel some of the tension slip away, and she relaxes a bit more. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asks when I finish with the last bandaid.

I rock back on my heels and look up at her, the question taking me off guard. “Because you needed help.”

That’s not the entire truth, but there’s no way I’m going to tell her everything. Especially not when I can’t properly put it into words myself.

“But you don’t even like me.”

“Excuse me?” I can’t even pretend to understand what’s going on with this woman. “What on earth gave you that idea?”

She sits up straight and looks me in the eyes, the fire I’ve gotten used to blazes in her gaze. “I kissed you.”

“You sure did.” I remember every second of that kiss, and at the moment, it’s taking everything in me to keep from reaching her and doing it again.

“You didn’t like it.”

“What the fuck would give you that idea?”

For a flash, her tough facade falters, but she catches herself at the last minute. “If you liked it, you would have⁠—”

I’ve heard enough. Despite everything in me telling me I shouldn’t, I push up from the floor, reach for her face, and pull her toward me until I’m once more devouring that sweet mouth of hers.

Willow

His hand cups my jaw, rough and warm, and then suddenly his mouth comes back to mine.

Nothing about this kiss is careful or hesitant. It hits hard and fast and steals every coherent thought out of my head as his mouth moves against mine with a kind of restrained hunger that makes my whole body ache.

Oh.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

When was the last time I kissed someone because I wanted to? When was the last time I kissed a man I was actually attracted to?

Probably never. Even my very first kiss when I was twelve was behind the hardware store, so Billy would give me my book bag back. I couldn’t remember any interaction with a man that wasn’t transactional. Where they didn’t look at me, only to see what they could take.

The thought is too sad to contemplate. Especially with Cal’s mouth on mine.

Because this kiss…this..whatever it is with Cal. It feels different.

Dangerously different.

One of his hands slips into my hair while the other braces against the couch beside my hip, caging me in without making me feel trapped. If anything, it’s the safest I’ve felt in years. Maybe ever.

Which, honestly, might be the scariest part.

A soft sound escapes me before I can stop it—and hearing how much I want this is exactly what drags my brain back into the moment.

Because I don’t understand him.

Does he want this or not? Does he want me?

Or was my first instinct right? That, despite all his objections, he does want something out of me? Men don’t usually do what he’s done—pay off a debt that isn’t his, take me in, patch up my feet like I’m something worth the trouble—without expecting something in return.

And now he’s kissing me like he wants more.

Yet…

None of this makes sense.

A man like Cal could probably have any woman he wanted. If he ever came off the mountain, that is. He’s the kind of rugged, broody mountain fantasy women lose their minds over. With his big shoulders, rough hands, dark eyes, and deep voice that settles low in my stomach every time he says my name. Never mind, the way he consistently continues to be nice to me.

And he kissed me first.

That’s the only reason I curl my fingers into the collar of his shirt and tug him closer.

He started this, and I’m not ready for it to stop.

Ready or not, I feel the muscles in his shoulders tense as he pulls back. I almost tell him not to stop. I almost try to pull him closer.

But I don’t.

That’s not me.

I don’t chase men. I definitely don’t ache for them. And I sure as hell don’t sit around wishing they’d kiss me again like some pathetic love-sick idiot.

When Cal finally lifts his head enough for me to look at him properly, I’m not prepared for the tension in his face that catches me off guard. As if pulling away from me was enough to cause him physical pain.

His jaw is clenched so tightly, I can see the muscle ticking beneath his beard, and there’s something almost angry about the way he’s breathing. Not with me. But maybe more at himself for losing control in the first place.

That should’ve offend me.

Instead, it makes my chest ache in a way I’ve never felt before. Because no one has ever looked at me that way. Like I matter.

Which is exactly why I need to get a grip on myself. Fast.

I straighten my shoulders and smooth my hair back, giving myself a moment to pull it together while the survival instinct that’s so deeply embedded in me finally clicks back into place.

“What do you want from me then, Cal?” When he stares, I push. “If you’re not going to fuck me, I don’t know what else this is. You helped me out, I owe you. Let’s just get it out of the way.”

His face twists. He stands, walks a few steps away, and when he turns back, he’s furious. “I don’t expect anything from you, Willow. I’m not looking to sleep with you as some fucked up kind of payment.”

His breathing is tight, his hands fisted at his sides like touching me is the one thing he won’t let himself do.

And God help me, that’s the part that gets me.

Not that he doesn’t want me. That he does, and still won’t.

Deep down, that’s what steadies me. Still, there’s a messed-up part of me that can’t help but be frustrated.

I shove it back down where it belongs and lift my chin.

“Fine,” I say. “Then we’re clear.”

But I don’t move. And neither does he.

After a moment, I crack. “Look, I get it that I probably shouldn’t go home for a few days, but I’m not going to just sit around and let you wait on me either.”

His eyes flash, like he wants to argue, but I don’t give him the chance.

“I’ll earn my keep,” I say quickly. “I’ll clean and…cook, or…whatever. I’ll find something to do.”

He stares at me for what feels like forever, but finally nods. “Okay. And you’ll sleep in my room with the door locked,” he says. “I won’t touch you, Willow. You have my word on that.”

He turns on his heel without another look in my direction. The front door slams behind him as he leaves me alone in the cabin, with nothing but his words echoing in my head.

I won’t touch you. You have my word on that.

I should feel relief. Cal is the first man who’s never wanted something from me. He’s the first man who hasn’t tried to take something from me.

That should make me feel safe. And it does.

But at the same time, for reasons that don’t make any sense at all, it only makes me want him more.

Chapter Eight

Cal

She’s been through it.

It doesn’t take a psychologist to see that Willow’s had a tough time, and that more than likely, most of that roughness came courtesy of men who treated her like she was only worth what they could get from her.

I never should have kissed her. I know that.

But that didn’t stop me when I kissed her—twice now—and then backed off, wanting her badly enough that it was becoming a serious fucking problem while also knowing every mixed signal only confused her more.

Willow understood men wanting things from her and taking them. What she didn’t understand was me wanting her while at the same time refusing to take advantage of the situation she was in.

Yet I’d still let myself give in to the pull that had been tugging on me from the very first time I saw her.

No. Not when I saw her. Not quite.

It was when she opened her mouth and stood up to that piece of shit, Ronnie Hatch. When I heard the fire in her voice when she stood up to him. One second, I was sitting at the bar minding my own business, and the next, I was ready to put that asshole through a wall for looking at her sideways.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the rejection and confusion on her face when I broke that kiss.

But, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I’d become like every man in her life who took what they could from her.

And the next time I kissed her, because there would be a next time, she’d know exactly what it meant. Hell, she’d be the one to ask for it.

Even so, my stance on morality hasn’t made the last three days with her any easier. It’s only gotten worse.

She’s insisted on helping out or earning her keep, or whatever it is that’ll make her feel better about staying at my cabin, so I’ve given her a few tasks to do out in the garage with me. Stupid shit, like tidying up my work bench.

A chore that should be simple, but has somehow turned into an entire reorganization of all my toolboxes, cupboards, and drawers.

At first, I’m pissed when I go to work on my old truck and can’t find anything. The wrenches aren't where they’re supposed to be. Where the hell are the screwdrivers?

Maybe she considers it a mess, but my system of not having any system at all has always worked for me.

But when she walks over in those tiny cutoffs and a sway in her hips to show me exactly where she put everything and why it made sense, I find myself agreeing with her pretty quickly.

Sure, maybe it has something to do with the sassy smile on her face when she points out her reasoning, and maybe it has something to do with how delicious her tits looked in that tight tank top when she bends down to open a newly tidied drawer.

Either way, it doesn’t take me long to adjust to the new, cleaner space.

And to having her here.

I tighten the bolt beneath the hood of the truck and try not to look toward the open bay door where Willow is currently arguing with Murph over a tennis ball.

“You have to let it go,” she tries to tell the dog, who happily trots away from her with the ball still in his mouth. “That’s not how fetch works,” she yells after him, and I can’t help but laugh as she runs after him.

Murph, naturally, looks pleased with the outcome of his new game.

“It looks like he’s got you trained up pretty well,” I say with a smirk as I join her in the yard, wiping my hands on a rag.

She shoots me a glare, and I laugh. “Fetch was never his strong suit,” I tell her. “I think he prefers keep away.”

“Maybe he should have had better training,” she shoots back as she tries to wrestle the ball from his mouth. “I blame his owner.” Triumphant, she holds the ball up overhead and Murph obediently sits at her feet, his tail wagging wildly with the turn of events.

I shrug, and keep my gaze focused on the dog as Willow runs through a series of commands. To my surprise, Murph proceeds to shake a paw, roll over, and sit once more before she tosses the ball, sending him racing across the yard to retrieve it.

“I’m impressed,” I say honestly while we wait for the dog to come back.

“He’s a good boy.” Her voice softens, and I make the mistake of risking a glance in her direction.

She’s wearing an old pair of my sweats, cut off into tiny shorts, and rolled up at the waist to make them fit a bit better, along with one of my black t-shirts tied in a knot above her hip. The sleeve slips down, leaving her shoulder bare.

She makes the oversized clothes look sinfully sexy.

Her long, red hair is piled into a messy knot on the top of her head, and there’s dirt smudged across one cheek, no doubt left there by Murph. The irrational wave of jealousy I feel for my dog and how close he’s been able to get to Willow hits me hard.

She looks entirely too comfortable here.

And the problem is, I’m getting pretty comfortable having her here, too.

Behind me, music plays from the radio Willow dug out of a cupboard because she claimed it was too quiet to think, and working in silence was like something out of a serial killer documentary. I still don’t understand what that means, but I’ve grown used to the music, the same way I’ve grown used to everything else when it comes to her.

I have to remind myself that this is all temporary.

The second Hatch gets the rest of his money, Willow won’t have a reason to stay here anymore.

I should probably be relieved by the thought. But instead, something low and sharp twists in my gut every time I let the thought cross my mind.

“You’re staring,” Willow says.

I blink and realize she’s standing a lot closer now. Murph has once more taken off with the ball.

“I was thinking.”

“About me?”

There’s no point in lying. “Yes.”

She doesn’t bother trying to hide the surprise on her face. “Are you going to tell me what exactly you’re thinking about me?”

It’s a dangerous question. I should lie.

My gaze drifts lazily over her before I can stop it.

“Just that those shorts are a problem?”

“The shorts?” She cocks an eyebrow. “They’re yours.”

“Not anymore, darling. They are most definitely yours.” And I’m never going to be able to look at a pair of old sweats without thinking of her long, lean legs.

Her breath catches.

Good. Maybe I’m not the only one struggling here.

A small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth before she bites it back, and dammit if that doesn’t send a shot of fire through me, straight to my cock.

The tension between us has been building for days. Every glance. Every accidental touch. Every moment in the kitchen late at night when she pads in barefoot wearing one of my shirts that barely covers her ass and asks if I ever sleep.

Truthfully, I haven’t slept a damn since she arrived. And not only because of Hatch, but because I’m very, very aware of her in my bed only a few feet away, with little more than a locked door separating us.

Every time I close my eyes, I see her: that sexy body splayed out on my sheets, red hair spread over my pillows, her scent soaked into every inch of a quilt I’ll never lie under again without picturing exactly how those soft curves would feel under my hands as I drive my cock into her heat.

Fuck. Me.

Judging by the way she’s looking at me right now, she knows exactly what I’m thinking. What I’m always thinking about when it comes to her.

Surprising us both, Murph chooses that moment to drop the tennis ball at our feet and sits expectantly, glancing between us, completely oblivious to the fact that the air around us suddenly feels thick enough to choke on.

“I’ll have the rest of Hatch’s money in a few days,” I say, changing the subject before I say something I shouldn’t. Or worse, do something I won’t be able to come back from.

Truthfully, Luke’s already making the run to the city for me to grab the cash. Once he’s back, this whole thing with Hatch is finished.

Years ago, Luke had shown a natural talent for investing and money management, so I, along with the rest of our brothers we’d served with, had trusted him with our finances. He’d never steered us wrong. And over the years, we’d all experienced massive gains.

“What happens then?” She asks, with only the slightest trace of concern on her face. “Will he…will I…”

“I’ll settle the debt.” I don’t meet her eyes. I bend down and pick up the ball, tossing it across the yard harder than necessary.

“And then?”

When I look up, she’s standing closer. Much closer.

Her eyes are locked on mine, flaring with challenge.

I probably should, but I don’t back down.

“And then,” I say, keeping my voice soft as I close what’s left of the space between us. “You can go home.”

Even speaking the words doesn’t feel right. I don’t want her to go home. I want to keep her right here.

“And then…” She reaches out and traces a finger down the front of my t-shirt until it’s resting lightly on the top of my belt buckle. “Will you fuck me then?”

Her words spark something deep and primal low in my gut. Something I’ve been trying to shove far enough down that I can pretend it doesn’t exist at all. But a man can only be pushed so far.

And just like that, I stop pretending.

Willow

He moves so suddenly, I take an automatic step backwards out of reflex. But then his hands are on me. One behind my head, the other on my waist, holding me in place as if I’m going to go anywhere. Not now that he’s finally giving in to whatever this is between us.

Because there is no way I’ve been imagining this heat between us. I see the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. The way he clenches his jaw like he’s trying to hold back out of some kind of…well, I don’t know why he’s been holding back.

For days now, I’ve wanted this man who wouldn’t let himself want me.

Until now.

Three days of me reliving our kisses in my head. Over and over, until every cell in my body felt it. Until my dreams were full of what it would feel like to have his hands sliding over my hot, bare skin.

But now I don’t need to imagine it at all.

It’s happening.

Finally.

A moan slips from my throat, and he slides his fingers through my hair, tugging my head to the side to give him access to my neck.

All logical thought flies out of my brain as his mouth starts moving lower, nipping at my jaw before landing on the sensitive spot below my ear that makes my knees go weak.

“I need you to understand something, Willow.” His voice is rough in my ear, only barely constrained. “This isn’t about what you think you owe me. Because you don’t owe me anything.”

I murmur an acknowledgment, but it’s not enough. Cal lifts his head and looks me in the eyes. “I mean it,” he says. “Not the debt. Not any of it. This is just you and me.”

“Okay.”

Still, he doesn’t resume his kisses. He cups my face in both hands instead, and stares at me intently. “I need to be sure you understand, darling. Because as much as it’ll kill me, I will walk away right now if you don’t want this the way I do.” I open my mouth, but he stops me. "And let me be clear, Willow, I want you.” His pupils darken. His expression is one of pure hunger. “It’s been killing me to watch you walk around here in these ridiculous shorts that show off every inch of your legs, wearing my old shirts that do nothing to hide your gorgeous fucking tits.” His eyes rake up and down my body, and without even touching me, I feel every sensation of his gaze. But he’s not done yet. “I lay awake at night imagining just how sweet you’ll taste when I spread you out in front of me and bury my face between your legs.” A flood of moisture soaks my panties, and a sigh slips from my lips.

“Do you want that, too, Willow? Do you want me to fuck you with my mouth until you’re screaming my name, soaking my beard with your sweet juices?”

I nod, rendered momentarily speechless.

“I need to hear it, Willow,” he says. “I need to hear you say that you want me to drive my cock into your pussy until you can’t think straight. Tell me you’ve been thinking about me the same way I’ve been thinking about you every damn night since you got here.”

“I want you.” The words are little more than a breath. He’s painted such a picture with his words that I already can’t think straight. But I know he needs to hear it, so I take a breath and try again. “I’ve never wanted a man the way I want you, Cal. Every night, I lie in your bed, under your blankets, and think about what it would be like to have your hands touching me instead of my own. I fall asleep thinking about having you between my legs, about⁠—”

He lets out a rough breath against my mouth. “Darling, if I finally get you underneath me, I’m not wasting a second of it sleeping.”

Chapter Nine

Willow

There’s no more talking after that.

His mouth comes back to mine, harder this time, every thread of that careful restraint finally snapped.

I drop my head back as he kisses and sucks my neck, pulling groans out of me, stoking the fire inside me that’s been building since he threw that dart at the Rusty Nail and saved me.

But that’s not what this is about.

Because I meant what I said. This has nothing to do with what I owe him and everything to do with how much I want him.

Another groan slips from my mouth as his fingers hook beneath the hem of my shirt.

He moves slowly this time, giving me every chance to stop him, despite the fact that I made it very clear I wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon. And that tenderness nearly undoes me more than the dirty words ever could.

No one has ever touched me like this before.

Like I mattered.

Like I was more than a warm body that they could get something from, but instead, something worth being carefully unwrapped.

His gaze never leaves mine as he pulls the shirt over my head and tosses it to the ground somewhere behind him. The hunger in his expression darkens the second he takes in the fact that I’m not wearing a bra.

“Jesus Christ.”

Heat floods my cheeks, but it has nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the way he’s looking at me, making me want to show him more.

His hands slide down my arms, leaving trails of fire where his fingertips brush my skin. He stops at my wrists, lacing our fingers together as he walks me backward until I bump up against the rough bark of one of the large pines in his yard.

He lifts my arms and gently pins them up over my head against the tree. The scrape of wood against my palms grounds me even as his huge body presses flush against mine, hot, hard, and overwhelming in the best possible way.

I can feel every ridge of his abs through his shirt, the throbbing length of him trapped in his jeans, pressed between my thighs.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against mine. His breath is coming in rough, uneven pants, as if the effort of holding himself back is all-consuming.

He kisses me then, deeper and slower than before. When he pulls back, there’s a whole new look in his eyes. I don’t have time to make sense of it before he lowers himself to his knees before me.

Cal never breaks eye contact as his hands glide down my sides, over my hips, to the waistband of my shorts. He hesitates, and I lift my hips so he can tug the fabric down my thighs in one smooth motion.

The fresh air hits my soaked center, and I whimper with need.

He takes a moment to look at me, shaking his head with silent admiration before his hands are once more on me. His palms slide up my calves, pulling my legs apart. Reflexively, I squeeze my eyes shut and suck in a breath in anticipation.

“Look at me,” he orders, his voice thick.

I do, and instantly lose myself in the intensity of his stare as he leans in. His lips brush my inner thigh. I shudder as a fresh surge of heat rushes between my legs. His tongue flicks out and presses a hot, teasing stroke along my slick folds.

I cry out, unable to hold back, and once more squeeze my eyes shut as my hands wrap behind me, clinging to the rough bark of the tree to hold myself up as his tongue moves again and again.

“Fuck,” he whispers against my core. “You taste even better than I imagined.” And then he’s there, hungry for more, lapping at me with hot, relentless strokes that have my thighs trembling. One hand finds my ass, pulling me even closer to his face, while his free hand grips my thigh.

When he finds my clit, sucking it gently between his lips while his tongue makes maddeningly slow circles, a broken moan tears from my throat, but I don’t care. The only thing I care about is him. The scratch of his beard, the wet heat of his mouth, the way he’s humming against me like feasting on me is his greatest pleasure.

His fingers slide inside me. First one, then two, then…three.

Oh God.

They curl into that exact spot that makes my vision darken.

“Cal…please…” I gasp, rocking my hips to meet his fingers. “I’m going to…”

“Come for me, darling,” he growls against me before intensifying his efforts.

His fingers thrust harder, his tongue flicks relentlessly against my clit until the pleasure coils tight in my belly. Too tight.

When I cry out, my back arches off the tree, and my legs almost fail me completely. Only the grip Cal has on me keeps me upright as my orgasm crashes through me, sparks exploding behind my eyelids.

He keeps going, thrusting and licking, riding me through my climax until I’m trembling and oversensitive, wiggling in his grip.

Finally, he lifts his head. His beard and lips are glistening with my juices, and when he meets my eyes, I see the raw possessiveness reflected at me, combined with a tenderness I’ve never seen from a man. He kisses my inner thigh, and then the other, before rising to his feet and reclaiming my mouth.

I can taste myself on his tongue. I whimper into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck, ready for more.

So much more.

Cal

Watching Willow come apart against the tree is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. She’s still trembling when I drag my mouth slowly up her body, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses from her inner thigh to her hip. I want to taste every inch of her, but more than that, I need a second to get myself under control before I lose it completely.

Willow tastes sweeter than I could have imagined, with an edge of unexpected spiciness, that’s so very much her, that if I don’t give myself a chance to recover after the way she just lost control for me, I don't think I’ll be able to hold myself together long enough to give her exactly what she needs.

And now that I have this beautiful woman unwrapped in front of me, I’m going to make damned sure she knows how good it can feel to be with a man who wants her for her and not for any other reason.

She’s still trembling beneath me, her chest rising and falling as she works to come back to herself. Not that I’m going to give her much of a chance.

When my lips finally brush hers, she melts into the kiss, a moan slipping from her.

“Do you taste how fucking delicious you are, darling?” She trembles in my grip, and I bite her lower lip a little before I add, “I could stay right here and eat your sweet pussy all day long. But first, I’m going to fuck you until there’s no doubt left in that fiery head of yours about how bad I want you.”

She moans, and when I pull back, there’s a fresh flash of desire in her eyes.

She reaches for my shirt and tugs. “You’re wearing far too many clothes for a man who talks such a big game.”

I bite back a chuckle and, without hesitation, lift my t-shirt over my head and toss it somewhere behind me. Her eyes widen at the sight of my bare chest.

“That’s better,” she says with a grin and runs her hands over the ridges of my abs, making me groan. I capture both her wrists in one hand as she gets dangerously close to the hard mound in my jeans, straining for release.

“You don’t want me to touch you?”

“Darling, I want nothing more.” I release her long enough to undo my jeans and shove them to the ground, where I quickly step free of them and kick them behind me, leaving me fully exposed to her.

Willow makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and a groan at the sight of me. “You’re so…you’re huge.”

“Damn, girl.” I chuckle and shake my head, taking the opportunity of her distraction to run my hands down her sides once more. “You know how to make a guy feel good about himself.”

She bites her bottom lip, sucking it between her teeth, her eyes still locked on my thick, pulsing, cock currently taking up space between us.

I work my hands up her body, tracing the gentle swell of her breasts with my thumbs. She trembles from my touch, but she still doesn’t take her eyes off my dick.

“Do you plan on staring at it all day, or are you going to give it some of the attention I think we’re both craving?”

“It’s just that I..I never…”

For a moment, I freeze. “Don’t tell me you’ve never⁠—”

“No!” Finally, her eyes lift and meet mine. “I mean…I’ve just never…”

I tangle one hand behind her head and tug her close so I can kiss away whatever these doubts of hers are. Soon, she’s moaning against my mouth and pressing her body into mine. “You’ve never been with a real man before, Willow. Not the way it matters,” I murmur against her lips. “And your beautiful body has obviously never been worshiped the way it deserves.” She sighs as I continue, “I promise you, darling. Today, that’s all going to change.”

I mean every word that comes out of my mouth, but what I don’t say, and mean just as much, is that once I’m done with her, she won’t be able to remember anyone who may have come before. The only thing she’ll be able to think about is how good it feels to have my huge cock stuffing her full.

I crush my mouth to hers, harder this time, as I reach under her thigh and hitch her leg up, giving me the access I need.

She gasps as the thick head of my cock presses against her tight, soaking pussy. “Look at me, Willow,” I command. “I want to see your face when I fuck you. I want to see the exact moment you feel what it’s like to be fucked properly.”

My cock’s already leaking, hard and aching, desperate to be inside her, but I wait until she lifts her head and her eyes lock on mine.

I don’t look away as I push into her heat. Slow and deliberate, feeling that first tight, wet stretch as her body opens for me. I watch her face carefully as a soft gasp escapes her lips. I keep up my relentless press, hardly giving her body a chance to accommodate my thick girth.

Her pupils blow wide when I bottom out.

“Fuck,” I hiss, my forehead dropping to hers for a second. “Do you feel that? Feel how good you take me. You’re so fucking tight. So fucking perfect.”

I stay like that for a beat longer until I feel her hips twitch, and then the very tentative grip I have on my control completely evaporates. I start to move.

Long deep strokes that pull me almost all the way out before slamming back inside her, each thrust designed to make her feel every inch of me.

I lift her other leg, so she’s off the ground completely, giving me a different angle. A deeper one.

She cries out when I fill her, and her ankles cross behind my back, pinning me in place.

“God, you’re fucking perfect.” She arches into my touch as I reach for her breast and roll her nipple between my fingers. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this? Thought about how it would feel to have those long legs wrapped around me just like this while I fuck you until you can’t think?”

I lean in, teeth grazing her jaw. “You’ve been thinking about it, too,” I say, knowing damn well she has. “Thinking about how it would feel to have me filling you up, ruining you for any other.”

She groans as I keep my relentless pace, driving into her over and over. Her nails dig into my shoulders, a silent fuck, yes. I shift my angle, driving even harder so the head of my cock hits the sensitive, spongy spot inside her with every thrust.

She cries out, her back bowing off the tree. I can feel the exact moment her body tightens, the wet heat flooding my shaft as she gets closer to the point of no return.

I slip one hand between us, my fingers finding the tight bundle of nerves that I know will make her explode. My fingers rub in slow, firm circles until she starts trembling in my arms.

“Cal, I’m going to…”

“Fuck yes, you are,” I growl. “Come for me. Come so hard you can’t think of anything but how good it feels to have my cock splitting you open and filling you up.” I thrust deeper, harder, each stroke driving her further. “You’ll never be able to think of another man again, darling. Never take another cock without knowing what it feels like to have mine.” She groans, only barely holding on.

“Yes,” she whimpers. “Only you. Only yours.”

“Only. Fucking. Mine.”

I punctuate every word with a pump, each harder than the last, until she breaks apart.

Her inner muscles clamp down on me like a vise as she screams my name into the trees. It’s the hottest sound I’ve ever heard in my life, and it’s my total undoing.

I follow her over the edge only seconds later, groaning low as I push deep, filling her with thick hot pulses, while she milks every drop out of me.

We stay locked that way, her in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder, her body boneless and limp as I hold her and let her recover from the wildest climax of her life.

Slowly, reality seeps back in. The sound of the birds in the trees, the gentle breeze on my back, reminding me we’re up against a tree in my front yard, completely naked, having just fucked out in the open where anyone could see, if anyone bothered coming this far up the mountain.

Even if they did, I wouldn’t care.

I slowly lower her to her feet, waiting until she’s steady before I release her. She leans back against the tree, breathing hard, her lips swollen from my kisses, her hair a tangled mess from my hands. I've never seen anyone more beautiful.

Her eyes are still glazed when she looks up at me, like she can't quite believe what just happened. The look in her eyes hits me harder than the orgasm did because this was never supposed to happen.

I was supposed to keep my distance. I was supposed to get her through this mess with Hatch and then send her safely back down the mountain before either of us got too attached to something that could never be.

Attachment only ever led one place. And it was never good.

Instead, I still have the taste of her on my tongue, her nail marks burning into my shoulders where she gripped me.

I reach out to brush a strand of hair back from her face. “You okay?”

She nods her head. “Yeah.”

But there’s hesitation there, too. An uncertainty that I’ve never seen in her sassy, confident face before, like she’s trying to figure out if this changes anything between us.

It shouldn’t. After all, it was only supposed to be sex. A release.

“Only you.” Her words replay in my mind. “Only yours.”

And then even more damning, my own admission.

“Only. Fucking. Mine.”

That wasn’t supposed to happen. None of it was.

But, standing naked against a damn tree in my front yard, my cock still vibrating from the most satisfying release I’ve ever had, it’s impossible to deny.

This woman has worked her way completely under my skin in only a few days, and that’s a very real problem. Because instead of turning around and walking away from her the way I should, all I want to do is tug her toward me and do it all over.

Chapter Ten

Willow

I wake up aching in all the best places.

It takes me a second to remember why. But then it all comes rushing back.

The way he touched me, like he couldn’t quite believe I was real.

The way he kissed every inch of me as if I were something to be worshiped instead of used and tossed aside.

And the way he fucked me like he’d never be able to get enough.

I stretch my arms over my head and let my body feel every delicious ache and strain in my muscles.

The soreness between my thighs is the perfect reminder of him, and what we did out there against that tree like two people who’d finally had enough and couldn’t hold back anymore.

And that’s exactly what it had been.

Because somewhere between him carrying me into the cabin, patching up my feet, and making me tea every morning like I was someone worth protecting, I’d stopped thinking of this as temporary and started to get comfortable.

That should scare me more than it does. I’ve never been comfortable a day in my life. Not with a man, and definitely not with one I owe. It doesn’t matter how many times Cal tells me I don’t owe him anything; I can’t shake it.

Organizing his shop helped. But it wasn’t much considering what he’s done for me. Still, it makes me feel a little less useless. So instead of overthinking what it meant that we’d finally given in to the building feelings between us, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. A small smile tugs at my lips as the warmth spreads through me.

I have no idea how long this will last, or even what it is, so I might as well enjoy it while I can.

No man has ever made me feel the way Cal does.

Like he wants me. And not what I can give him or what I can do for him.

But like I matter.

And it didn’t stop when we finally came inside last night. We sat on the couch, the dog curled on the floor beside us, and talked like it was the most natural thing in the world. Comfortable.

There’s that word again.

I let my gaze travel to the closed—and locked—bedroom door.

Cal insisted.

Even when I asked him if he’d like to sleep next to me, he’d simply shaken his head and sent me to bed, but not until he’d given me a tender kiss on the forehead.

As if simply thinking about him summoned him, there’s a knock on the door.

“You awake?”

His voice is deep and rough and has the ability to make me feel a fresh spark of desire low in my belly with two simple words.

“I am.”

There’s a moment of hesitation before he says, “The water’s on for tea.”

I consider inviting him into his own bed to wake me up properly, but I already know without asking, he won’t cross that line. I’m not sure why or what it is that’s created the line, but despite my early confusion and frustration with it, now there’s something about Cal’s certainty and steadiness that makes me feel safe and protected in a way I didn’t know I could.

“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll be right there.”

There’s a pause and then a grunt of acceptance before I hear his footsteps head back toward the kitchen.

I dress in another of his oversized shirts, this one tied in a knot under my breasts, and tug on my own cut-off shorts, leaving my hair falling over my shoulders before I join him in the kitchen.

The sight of him standing at the sink, his back to me, nearly knocks the breath out of me all over again, because now I know exactly what’s under that fitted black t-shirt. I’ve run my hands over those hard abs, I felt every inch of his body pressed up against mine, and dammit, if the mere sight of him didn’t reignite every single one of those memories.

He turns slowly, his hair still damp from the shower, a mug in one hand. Those dark eyes lock on me while his lips curl up into a grin.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” I dip my head, suddenly and unexpectedly shy. Heat rushes through me so fast, it’s completely ridiculous considering how this man had me naked, pressed up against a tree, and screaming through my orgasm less than twenty-four hours ago.

His gaze drifts over me before returning to my face. The usual hardness in his gaze has softened into something warmer.

“Did you sleep well?” He hands me the mug he was holding. “Milk and sugar.”

His attention to detail hits me in the chest. “Thank you.” I inhale deeply and let the aroma wash over me. “I slept very well.”

I stop short of adding how much better I would have slept with his arms around me, but something tells me we’re not quite there yet.

Will we ever be?

I take a sip of the hot tea to keep from asking the totally inappropriate question. I swallow and say, “Did you?”

Cal shrugs. “The chair is actually more comfortable than it looks.”

“You don’t have to⁠—”

“I’m kidding.” He holds up his hand to stop me, and I see the glint in his eyes. “It’s fine,” he adds, softer this time. “Really. I want you to feel safe here.”

“I do,” I say without hesitation and realize exactly how true the statement is. “But you don’t have to sleep on the chair,” I add. “I mean, not now that we…I mean. I just…”

“It’s okay.” He takes a step toward me, closing the distance between us. “I know what you’re saying.” He cups my cheek so gently, it takes everything in me not to close my eyes and lean into his touch. His thumb is pleasantly rough on my skin as he strokes soft circles before leaning in to kiss me softly.

A sigh slips from my lips as I sink into the easy kiss, my body remembers the feel of him immediately as my mouth opens to accept his tongue and deepen the kiss.

I hardly even notice as he takes the mug of hot tea from my hand and sets it on the table before reaching for me with both hands.

My body melts into his as Cal’s huge hands span across my back, his thumbs finding the bare skin on my midriff, already heated in anticipation of more.

My own hands are traveling over the hard ridges of his abs, dipping lower to the button of his jeans. I can feel the hard press of his massive cock on my belly, and more than anything, I want to free him from the restraint of the denim.

We’re all fumbling fingers as I tug his t-shirt off and he lifts mine up and over my head as I go to work on the button and zipper of his jeans.

“Oh shit, Willow,” he groans as I wrap my hand around his thick, silken length. “Fuck, that feels good.”

I can’t disagree as I stroke him until he shudders and tugs on my shorts, shoving them down to my feet.

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman.” His voice is gruff and only barely controlled as he lifts me easily and carries me to the kitchen table.

My ass barely hits the hardwood before he’s pushing his thick head into my soaking wet folds.

I groan as he drives into me, my eyes rolling back in my head.

It’s only been a few hours since we’ve done this, but it’s already been far too long. I tighten my legs around his waist and lie back on the solid table as Cal looms over me.

“I can't get enough of you.” His eyes are locked on mine as he pulls himself out, slowly dragging over every sensitive inch, before one more push in slowly, until I’m so stuffed by his massive size I can hardly breathe. “I dreamed of this,” he says, thrusting. “Of you. All night long.”

A cry rips from my throat as he bottoms out and hits that special spot deep inside me.

“Tell me you thought of me,” he orders.

“All night,” I say without hesitation. “The bed was too big without you.” Something flashes in his eyes as he thrusts into me. Hard. I force my gaze to stay locked on his. “I needed you,” I add. “I needed your cock.”

His pupils blow wide, and a growl rumbles in his chest at my words. “Fuck, Willow. You’re going to be the absolute ruin of me.”

The raw passion in his voice is going to be my ruin.

“Yes,” is all I can manage to get out as Cal increases his pace, driving me back into the table until I feel my climax starting to slam through me without any warning.

I don’t hold back as the scream rips from my throat.

“Fuck, that’s hot, darling.”

Cal grips my hips even tighter and follows me over the edge a second later. His hot seed pulses in thick waves, filling me, and for the second time in as many days, the thought of birth control floats through my head, but just as I did yesterday, I push it away. I’m on the pill, and while maybe the responsible thing to do would be to use a condom, we’re long past responsible here.

Cal grips tightly on my hips, holding me in place as we both work to regain our breath and come back to ourselves.

After a moment, Cal swipes a lock of hair back from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear with so much tenderness, it sparks an entirely new feeling deep inside that has nothing to do with lust.

“That was a good morning that I wasn’t expecting,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead, “but I’m certainly not complaining.”

When I look up into his eyes, the genuine care and concern and…something else I can’t identify almost takes my breath away. It takes me a second to recover before I say, “Neither am I,” and offer him a small smile, when what I really want to do is ask him why. Why me? Why this? Why now?

The old me would’ve run from this. Or made a joke of it. Anything to keep from feeling what was actually happening.

I find myself opening my mouth instead, those very questions on the tip of my tongue, when the sharp ring of a cell phone breaks the silence.

Chapter Eleven

Willow

Cal groans and drops his head for a moment before looking up at me into my eyes once more. “I have to get it,” he says, regret laces through his voice. “The phone only rings around here when there's a reason, and I'm pretty sure I know what that reason is today.”

I resist the urge to pull him back to me when he steps out of my arms, leaving me naked, still sitting on the kitchen table as he, equally naked, crosses the room to pick up his phone.

I lean back and take the opportunity to watch him and the easy way he moves through the house, completely unconcerned about his nakedness.

And why should he be? The man is absolutely gorgeous.

He’s got to be at least twenty years older than me. Not that that matters.

In fact, he's a whole lot more man than any man my age that I've been with. Not that that bar is very high, but even if it was, Cal would blow it out of the water.

Every single part of him is solid muscle, not the kind that comes from long days in the gym. Cal's muscles are real, formed from hard work and real life.

“Luke.” His back is still turned to me when he answers the call. “Everything ready?”

He turns then as he listens to whatever the man on the other end tells him. His gaze lands on me, lounging on the kitchen table, and his eyes go wide, his brow lifting as his lips twitch into a grin. I lift my legs, so my heels are resting on the edge of the table now, and run one hand slowly down my thigh, at the same time, thrusting my tits out, and tossing my hair back.

I can hear his growl from across the room.

“Yeah,” he says roughly into the phone. “I’m listening.” His eyes never leave me. “Got it,” he says. “Thanks for doing that. I’ll see you then.”

Finally, he ends the call and tosses the phone down on the counter behind him.

“What was that about?”

“Luke picked up the money while he was in the city. He’ll drop it off in the morning.”

“And then it’ll be over.”

Cal nods and runs a hand roughly over his beard, tugging on it like he’s trying to make a decision. “Have you heard from your brother?”

I snort in response.

“Your father?”

“I texted him a few times in case he noticed I wasn’t home.” I shrug because there’s a good chance he hasn’t. “I tried calling, too,” I say. “But he never picked up.” The look on Cal’s face stops me. “Why?”

He sighs and drops his hands. “Luke mentioned something about a disturbance in town. Might be Hatch. It wasn’t clear.”

“A disturbance?” I sit up, suddenly on alert. “My dad?”

“Don’t know.” Cal’s moving through the room, scooping up our clothes. “Might be,” he says, gently, as he hands me my shirt and shorts.

“We need to go.” I tug my shirt on and jump off the table to pull my shorts up, all thoughts of seducing my mountain man one more time before breakfast gone. “I need to make sure he’s okay.”

For a moment, I’m sure he’s going to object, but Cal tugs on his jeans and simply nods.

“Really?”

“I told you,” he says. “You’re not a prisoner here. Besides,” he shakes his head with a grin. “I figure there’s no point telling you no when it comes to something you have your mind set on.”

Cal

I take Murph and wait for Willow in the yard. She needs a few minutes to pull herself together, and I need…well, I need a few minutes away from her, or we're never going to get down the mountain.

The woman is beyond irresistible. I knew once I had a taste of her, I'd need more, but even in my wildest dreams—and trust me, I had some wild ones—I didn't think she would be this addictive.

I'm lazily throwing the ball for the dog when I hear the soft creak of the porch floorboards behind me. Murph chooses that moment to finally return the soggy tennis ball and drop it at my feet, ready to fetch.

I should ignore the sound and toss the ball one more time, if only to put a bit more distance between me and the woman who’s making it impossible to think straight every time she looks at me.

Instead, I turn.

She stands on the porch, still wearing my black t-shirt, only it’s been tied up into a fancy twist with a knot at the back this time, leaving her midriff bare. I’ve never seen one of my old shirts look so damn sexy. Her hair’s been pulled back into a long braid that I immediately envision twisted around my fist, tugging her head back while I fuck her from behind.

Dammit.

I’ve got to pull myself together.

Her cheeks are still flushed from our morning activities, and the image of her spread out over my kitchen table, screaming out my name while I made her come, rips through my brain.

She licks her lips like she’s remembering that exact moment, too, and the tiny gesture is almost enough to cross the yard, pick her up, and carry her right back into the cabin to fuck her once more.

“You ready to go, or are you just going to stare at me all morning?”

There’s that sass, but it’s got less of an edge than before.

I shake my head with a chuckle and toss the ball one last time for Murph, but he ignores it, trotting over to get Willow's attention instead.

I open the truck door for her, waiting for her to finish lavishing attention on my dog. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She glances up and gives me a wink. “Jealous?” she asks as she takes her time crossing the yard, swinging her hips to drive me crazy.

“Darling,” my voice drops low as she finally reaches me, "Murph’s a good boy and deserves all the pats, but I’m pretty sure there’s no competition here.”

Her grin widens. “Pretty confident, aren’t you?”

I step closer, until there’s barely an inch between us as I pin her up against my truck with my hips. “After the way you screamed my name and came all over my cock this morning?” I let my gaze drag slowly over her flushed face, down to her heaving tits, before meeting her eyes. “Yeah, darling. I’m feeling pretty damn confident.”

Heat floods her cheeks so fast, I almost laugh.

Almost.

Because there’s nothing funny about how painfully hard my cock needs her.

“Cal!”

I lean closer so I can whisper roughly in her ear. “I already had you once today.” My hips press into her, so there’s no doubt she can feel my desire. “And unless I’m reading things very wrong, I’ll have you again before the sun sets. And then again after that.”

Her breath catches the way it always does when I say something unexpected that slips past those big, thick defensive walls of hers.

Before she can come back with another smart ass comment, I kiss her hard and quick.

There’s nothing sweet and gentle about the way my lips crush onto hers.

It’s the kind of kiss that’s meant to leave her breathless and wanting. And thinking about me all the way down the fucking mountain.

When I pull back, her eyes are dazed, and for once, she’s speechless.

“Get in,” I say roughly and jerk my head toward the door before I drag her back inside and make good on every filthy thought running through my head. “Let’s get this over with.”

Chapter Twelve

Cal

We don’t speak much on the drive down the mountain. After spending the last few days together, you’d think we’d be more comfortable with each other. And we are. Only… now I know exactly how she tastes. How she feels when her pussy clenches around my cock. How insanely hot she is when she screams out my name when she comes.

So, now, the air between us is thick with a different kind of tension. The kind that makes it hard to breathe when she looks at me. The kind that makes it almost impossible to keep my thoughts straight when she shifts in her seat next to me, drawing my eyes to her bare thigh.

But I need to focus. I need to keep my thoughts clear. The last thing I need is to be distracted in any way when the threat of Hatch is still very real. He’ll get his money, but I know I’ve pushed it by making him wait as long as I already have. Not that there’s been much choice. With the closest bank hours away in the city, it’s not like that kind of cash is easy to access.

Not that he’ll care.

It’s a miracle he’s been as patient as he has.

Going down the mountain now is a risk. But when Willow tells me she hasn’t heard from her father, I see the look in her eyes. However complicated things are between them, he’s still her dad, and she’s worried.

There’s no way I’m denying her the opportunity to check on him.

Hell, I’d be a lying asshole if I said that I’d deny her anything. I won’t. I can’t.

Because, as hard as I tried to avoid it, Willow's worked her way in. And I’m not fighting it. Not anymore.

And it’s a damn good thing she doesn’t know that…yet.

I’m already in way too much trouble when it comes to this woman and the feelings I haven’t even begun to try to sort out.

Every so often, I catch her glancing over at me quickly before looking away, like she, too, is trying to figure out what exactly is going on between us.

It’s a conversation for later.

Much later.

As we get closer to town, Willow gives me simple directions. I haven’t asked many questions about her family. I don’t need to. The bits and pieces she’s let slip, plus the fact that she’s in the situation she’s in, have been enough for me to read between the lines and paint a clear enough picture.

Still, nothing can prepare me for the place she calls home.

The yard, if you can even call it that, is overgrown with weeds. There are flower boxes on the front steps, but whatever had been blooming there is brown and shriveled from the hot sun. There’s an old truck sitting up on blocks, rusting out on the edge of the drive. And an old, stained couch sags near the porch like someone tried to remove it once and gave up when they got that far.

Beside me, Willow stiffens and sucks in a breath.

“Before you say anything,” she mutters, all the familiar sharpness she’s let slide over the last few days, clicking back into place. “I know it looks bad.”

I glance over at her. Her walls are firmly back in place. The traces of vulnerability I’d started to see over the last few days, gone.

“Don’t judge,” she says.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

She huffs in a breath like she doesn’t believe me.

“I do my best,” she adds quietly, her eyes once more staring out the windshield at the place she calls home. “The flowers are dead.”

The small realization that Willow would have planted those flower boxes in an effort to cheer up her home, and they’d gone neglected in her short absence, makes me sad for her, and a fresh surge of protectiveness toward her washes over me.

I put the truck in park and pull the keys from the ignition.

The second I reach for the door handle, Willow frowns. “What are you doing?”

“Coming with you.”

“Cal. You don’t⁠—”

“I don’t have to do anything, Willow.” I hold her gaze. “But if you really think I’m going to let you walk into that house on your own, then you don’t know me very well yet.”

“It’s my house.”

"And if everything’s fine, then afterward you can tell me I’m overreacting.”

Something in her face softens, and she blows out a breath before she finally says, “You’re a stubborn ass, you know.”

“Been called worse.”

Together, we walk through the dead grass and past the brown flowers, up to the front door. The second I step into the house, I understand two things real fast: Willow's been carrying far more than she should, and there’s no fucking way I’m walking away from this now.

Willow

Instantly, I’m hit with the familiar smell of home. Stale cigarettes, beer, and the damp that manages to creep into everything, and something that can only be described as sad.

Once familiar, now, the smell makes me gag.

It’s only been a few days that I’ve been away, but it might as well have been years for how different it feels.

My instincts take over, and I slip automatically into the familiar role I’ve spent almost my entire life in. Before I even realize I’m doing it, I’m picking up beer bottles, dumping their half-empty contents, and putting them in the bin under the sink.

Behind me, I can feel Cal taking everything in without saying a word.

He did say that he’s not judging me. I risk a glance over at his blank expression. If he has any opinions about what he’s seeing, I can’t tell.

“Dad?” I call, moving farther into the kitchen. “You here?”

A cough sounds down the hallway, and some of the tension I didn’t realize I’d been carrying slips from my shoulders.

Thank God.

At least he’s alive.

It’s a fear I live with every day, even when I’m not away. But having not heard from him for the last few days, that worry was only magnified.

With the way he drinks…never mind his health problems…and with no one to cook for him or make sure he’s looking after his basic needs…

I can’t even let myself think about what could have happened while I was—what? While I was what exactly?

Hiding? Yes.

Having wild sex with a mountain man? Yes.

Feeling lighter than I have in years?

Also, yes.

And that’s the part that guts me. The last few days with Cal have been some of the best I can remember, and I was too busy living them to wonder what was happening down here without me.

But I don’t have time to dwell on it. I move to the fridge, frowning at the almost empty shelves while I mentally start making a grocery list we can’t afford.

Maybe some bread and eggs.

Something besides beer and the leftover macaroni casserole that’s still sitting untouched exactly where I left it earlier in the week.

“Did you eat today?” I call.

No answer except another cough.

Of course.

It’s before noon, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t already been into the beer.

I find his pill bottle near the sink and do a quick check to see how many tablets are left before setting it down.

There are only a few days left. Which means he’s been taking too many.

Again.

With the combination of his pain meds and the alcohol, it’s no surprise he can’t get out of bed.

A quiet frustration settles over me, the tension in my shoulders returning. I should be used to it by now. This is how things are.

Since the accident that took Mom and fractured Dad’s leg, leaving him in almost constant pain, whether it was from the broken bones or the loss of his love, it had been like this.

He drinks too much. Takes too many pills. And we scrape out a life—if you can call it that—with the disability cheques and what’s left of the settlement from the accident. Combined with the few dollars I can bring in with whatever small jobs around town I can pick up here and there, it’s usually enough to get by.

Of course, whenever Bryson screws up, which is more and more lately, it takes whatever savings I’ve managed to squirrel away, and then some, to get us out of his latest mess.

I look up to see Cal watching me carefully. His expression unreadable.

“What?”

His gaze flicks briefly to the pill bottle before returning to my face. “How long’s it been like this”

I almost laugh.

Not because anything about this is funny, but because I honestly don’t have any idea how to answer that question.

Instead, I say, “Some days are better than others.”

Cal’s jaw tightens slightly like he doesn’t believe that for a second.

Honestly, neither do I. But what else am I going to say?

Another cough sounds from down the hallway, and instinct immediately spurs me into motion. I grab a glass that doesn’t look too dirty and give it a quick rinse before filling it with water and reaching for a different pill bottle. The pills he should have been taking.

“You don’t have to do this by yourself, you know?”

The comment stops me, but I don’t bother turning around. “And who would you suggest should do it then?”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” he says after a moment.

The gentleness in his voice cracks the thin bit of control I’ve been hanging onto in half. Because the thing is, he says it like he means it, and I don’t know what to make of that.

I stare down at the pills in my hand and let myself think about the last few days on the mountain.

About how I’d probably smiled more in the last three days than I had in the last three years. Never mind the fact that I’ve slept deeper than I have in years.

The realization makes me want to cry because now that I know what it could feel like, standing in this dim, dirty, smelly kitchen feels even sadder than it used to.

A floorboard creaks behind me, and then Cal is there. His arms wrap around me and pull me back into his hard chest. He doesn’t say a word while I drop my head and try to fight back the tears that are burning the backs of my eyelids.

“You can’t keep carrying everybody forever, darling,” he murmurs in my ear. “You don’t have to.”

Before I can answer, or even let myself relax in the knowledge that even if it feels like no one has my back, Cal does, there’s a creak in the floorboards and a thick throat clearing.

We turn to see Dad leaning heavily on the doorframe, looking thinner and frailer than he did when I left a few days ago.

His eyes move to Cal, who hasn’t stepped away.

“Guess the rumors are true.” His voice is rough, like he hasn’t used it in a few days.

“Dad!”

“What?” he coughs into his fist. “Went out to get…” he hesitates and coughs before continuing. “Well, went out and the whole damn town’s talking about how you’re shacking up with some man from up the mountain.”

Heat flares into my cheeks, but Cal only moves closer and rests his hand lightly on my lower back.

“Are you eating?” I try to change the subject and turn to the empty fridge. “I could go and⁠—”

“You shouldn’t be here, Willow.”

“What?” My stomach tightens as I turn to face him.

There’s genuine worry in my dad’s face, despite the fact that I’m sure he’s probably already a few beers in.

“They’ve been coming around.”

Next to me, I feel Cal stiffen. “How often?” he doesn’t bother asking who.

There’s a moment of hesitation before Dad answers him. “Enough.”

“Dad—”

“I told them I ain’t seen your brother.” He rubs a hand over his face. “Didn’t matter. They said they’d⁠—

The sound of a truck door slamming outside stops whatever else he was going to say. The knot in my chest twists tighter. Beside me, Cal mutters something under his breath.

“Shit,” Dad mutters. “That’d be them again.”

A flash of anger for my brother and the situations he continues to put us in flickers over me, but there’s no time for that now. Not with the heavy footfall of boots on the porch,

Cal moves past me to head them off, but there’s a bang on the door, and before he can stop it, the front door swings open.

“Well, well, well, looky here.”

I recognize Dale, one of Hatch’s men from the Rusty Nail. His eyes land on me, his brow lifts, and his lips snarl in a leer that has me baring my teeth at him.

“It’s about time you came home, little lady,” he says. “Ronnie's going to be happy to see you.”

“The fuck he will.” Cal steps in front of me, looming over Dale. “Because he’s not going to see her at all.”

“You been having fun with her up on that mountain of yours, Reeves?”

Disgust crawls over my skin at the tone in his voice.

At his sides, Cal’s hands flex into fists. “What do you want, Dale? You have no business here.”

Dale only grins. “Ronnie wants his money.”

“And he’ll get it,” Cal says evenly. “I’ll have it in the morning. You know as well as I do it takes a bit to get cash around here.”

“Price went up.”

To my surprise, it’s Cal who smiles slightly at that. Only there’s nothing funny or warm about the look on his face. “To hell it did.”

Dale pulls the toothpick from his mouth and looks Cal straight in the eye. “Problem is, while you were busy fucking your little prize up on the mountain there, things changed. This ain’t about the original debt anymore.”

Cal’s lips pull back in a snarl, his fist lifting almost faster than I can step up and put a hand on his arm to keep him from making a terrible situation even worse. “What did Bryson do now?” I ask, because I already know my brother’s responsible for this latest change as well.

Both men look at me. Dale snorts. “Your idiot brother decided to use Ronnie’s truck to skip town.” Cold creeps down my spine. “Ronnie’s really interested in getting it back.”

“Oh, my God.”

I close my eyes briefly and pinch the bridge of my nose. Will this ever stop?

But even as the panic rises, I realize something bigger. There’s no way Ronnie’s escalating things over a rusty old truck that’s barely worth the gas needed to haul it away.

That’s not him.

This is bigger than that.

What’s in the truck?

I swallow back the question.

“If Ronnie can’t find him,” Dale continues,” he figures maybe somebody else can motivate him to come home. If you know what I mean?”

The implication makes me want to throw up.

“Yeah,” Cal says quietly. “Not happening.”

Dale takes a step, and before I can stop him this time, Cal reaches out and grabs him by the collar of the shirt. “You listen carefully,” he says, his voice low and deadly. “The money’s coming, and that’s the only reason you’re still standing here right now.”

Nobody moves. Dale’s eyes are wide, but wisely—for once—he keeps his mouth shut.

“And if Hatch, or any of his asshole thugs, comes near her or her father again, there won’t be enough left of you to send a message back to him.”

There’s no mistaking how serious Cal is. Even Dale is smart enough to realize it as Cal finally releases his shirt, and he takes a staggering step backward.

He swallows and rubs at his shirt before daring to speak. “You threatening us?”

“No,” Cal’s voice stays calm and controlled. “I’m explaining exactly how this is going to go.”

Silence stretches between them for a long second before Dale finally turns to leave. “This ain’t over.”

“That’s up to you,” Cal says. “As far as I’m concerned, this ends here and now. Hatch’s issue is with Bryson. No one else.”

Dale turns to shoot me one final look before he spits on the floor and leaves, the door slamming behind him.

No one speaks until we hear the sound of the engine and the tires of the truck peeling out of the drive.

Finally, Cal turns to me, and the look in his eyes steals what breath I still have left.

Possessive and protective with barely contained fury simmering right under the surface. And there’s something else there, too. Something that pulls me closer to him.

“We’re leaving,” he says.

Maybe I should argue and insist that there’s no way I can leave my father. That this is my home.

But standing there, surrounded by empty bottles, the dead flowers on the porch, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air, I realize something that I know without a doubt is going to become a much bigger problem.

Going back to the mountain, to Cal’s, no longer feels like hiding.

It feels like going home.

Chapter Thirteen

Willow

I wake up tangled in Cal’s sheets with the birds chirping outside the window, just like every day I’ve woken on the mountain.

Only today, it’s different because Cal’s arm is draped heavily across my waist.

He didn’t sleep on the chair in the living room.

I didn’t lock the door behind me when I went to bed.

Instead, I’d invited him in. And after I assured Cal it was exactly what I wanted, he’d joined me.

I roll, so I can look at him properly without disturbing him.

Even in sleep, he doesn’t look relaxed. Not completely. It’s as if some part of him is always standing guard and waiting for the next thing.

Morning sunlight spills through the curtains, streaking his naked chest with gold.

Sensing me watching him, he groans in his sleep and shifts, pulling me close as if I’m going to slip away.

I’m not.

A soft sigh escapes my lips with the realization.

For the first time in longer than I care to remember, I feel like I belong somewhere. With someone. And not because I can take care of them or clean up their messes. But because I’m wanted.

Beyond these four walls, there’s a whole world of trouble, but at least for this moment, I don’t have to think of any of it.

Cal’s hand flexes against my waist, and a smile tugs at my lips as he opens one eye to check on me.

“I’m still here.”

Apparently, he wasn’t sleeping nearly as deeply as I thought.

“Good,” he mutters, his voice rough with sleep as he pulls me closer. “Because I think Murph would be pretty disappointed if you’d left.”

“And you?” I laugh.

He responds by pulling me easily on top of him. His cock is rock hard, pressing into my belly. “What do you think?”

I bend and press a kiss to his lips as I shift myself over his hips, lining up my center, already wet for him. “I think you’d miss this,” I say as I lift myself just enough before lowering onto his shaft with a groan.

The size of him steals my breath.

“Fuck, woman.” His eyes are still shut, as his hands come to my hips, holding me in place for a moment before I start rocking back and forth. Just enough for Cal to open his eyes and stare directly into mine.

“You were saying?”

“Damn,” he growls. “If I knew we’d be waking up like this every morning, I⁠—”

“Wouldn’t have been sleeping in the chair outside my door?”

His eyes flash.

“Oh no, darling. That wouldn’t have changed.”

“No?”

“Not a chance.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “Even knowing what you were missing?” I roll my hips, pulling a groan out of him.

His grip tightens. “You needed to know you were safe with me more than I needed to be in your bed.”

Something deep inside me unclenches. I’m momentarily speechless.

“And now?” I whisper.

A slow grin spreads across his face.

“Now, you’ve made that a whole lot harder on me.”

I laugh, but he catches my chin before I can look away. “Just so we’re clear, I’d sit in that damn chair every night all over again if that’s what it took for us to get here.”

“Careful,” I tease. “Or I might not think you’re such a rough and gruff mountain man after all.”

Done with talking, I lean back so I can feel every hard inch of Cal’s cock inside me as I pick up the pace of my hip rolls.

“Christ, woman, you are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” His hands leave my hips, sliding up over my sides before cupping my full tits, his thumbs grazing over my nipples, sending sparks racing through me as my climax builds quickly.

“Come for me, darling.” His voice is rough. “Come all over my cock while I fill you up.”

His dirty words are all it takes to send me over the edge. I drop my head back and scream out his name while I let my orgasm rip through me.

“So. Fucking. Hot.”

Cal punctuates each word with a thrust, and then he, too, is lost to his climax. As promised, hot, thick spurts of his seed fill me up as he shudders beneath me, and I collapse in a satisfied heap on top of him.

Cal

I’m not sure how much time has passed with Willow lying on my chest, a welcome weight. I have one arm wrapped around her, keeping her right where she is while her breath returns to normal.

Outside, the birds are still carrying on like nothing in the world has changed.

But inside, for me, everything has.

I’m not sure what to say or how to tell her what I’m feeling, or even if I can sort out those feelings in my own head. But I have to say something. I know I can’t let this moment pass without telling Willow that having her here, in my house, in my bed, and hell, in my arms, has shifted something fundamental for me.

Something I can’t ignore.

I take a breath and open my mouth, but Murph chooses that moment to bound up onto the bed next to us.

“What the—” I twist my head and find myself staring directly into his dark eyes. “You know you’re not allowed on the bed.”

Willow laughs softly against my chest and lifts herself up, and off me, so she’s lying with her back next to me, facing the dog.

“Good morning, buddy.”

I watch while she scratches the dog, and he rolls over on his back to get belly rubs.

“Traitor,” I murmur with a shake of my head.

“He’s so cute,” Willow says over her shoulder.

“He’s not supposed to be in the bed.”

“Nonsense,” she says to the dog. “You’re way too sweet to stay on the floor.”

I watch while she nuzzles her face into Murph’s fur, and I can’t help but laugh at the way she’s managed to turn my tough mountain dog into a giant suck in only a few days.

“He met you five minutes ago and immediately decided I was the backup human.” I kiss her on the shoulder.

“He's a smart boy.” She turns and gives me the brightest smile I’ve ever seen on her pretty face. Only a few short days ago, she was nothing but scowls and a wall of toughness. Now…

She belongs here.

With me.

With us.

The thought pops into my head so quickly and unexpectedly, it almost slips out of my mouth.

I almost tell her how much I like all the tea mugs she leaves scattered around my cabin. How her laughter fills the emptiness I’ve felt for too long. How all of it should be driving me crazy, should have me counting down the minutes until I get my quiet existence back. Instead, I’m dreading the end of whatever this is.

Because it doesn’t feel like an intrusion. It feels right.

Dangerously right.

Willow catches me looking at her. She tilts her head and asks, “What?”

I almost tell her.

Almost tell her how I don’t want her to leave at the end of all this. How I want her to stay.

But then I remember why I can’t. There’s a damn good reason I’ve never let anyone in. And until I’m sure I won’t fail her the way I failed before, I keep my mouth shut.

“Nothing,” I lie, and then add, “Why don’t you take him out to play fetch while I get breakfast started?”

Willow

Murph tears after the ball and disappears into the trees.

Again.

He could catch the ball all day, and I think I’d probably be as happy throwing it for him.

I shade my eyes against the morning sun and wait for him to come charging back, but a flash of movement behind the woodshed catches my attention instead.

Instinctively, I take a step back, ready to go running for the shelter of the house. And Cal.

And then I see him.

My brother steps from the shadow, and my breath catches in my throat. The fear is instantly replaced by a flash of anger, followed quickly by concern.

He looks terrible.

His clothes are filthy and torn. It’s only been about a week since I’ve seen him, but he looks like he’s lost weight. Even from a distance, his eyes look tired and are no doubt bloodshot.

I take three quick steps toward him and glance over my shoulder at the house. The kitchen’s on the opposite side of the cabin, so with any luck, Cal hasn’t seen him yet. I know without asking, Bryson’s not likely to be welcomed with the same warmth that Cal offered me. Not after everything he’s done to put me in this position.

“What are you doing here?”

My brother winces. "Good morning to you, too, sis.”

“Are you kidding me right now?”

I close the rest of the distance between us and punch him hard on the shoulder. He barely reacts. Probably because he knows he deserves it. Hell, he deserves a lot more than that. Still, he looks awful, and I can’t bring myself to hit him. No matter how much I want to.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I demand. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put everyone through this time?”

He nods.

“No,” I stop him before he can speak. “You don’t. You have no idea what I had to…what I almost had to do to pay off your debt this time.” I swallow hard, not wanting to think about that night at the Rusty Nail when Ronnie and his buddies actually played for me.

I don’t even want to think of what could have happened if Cal hadn’t stepped in. Thinking about Cal, I spin around and take another glance over my shoulder before facing my brother. “You can’t be here.”

“I have nowhere else to go.”

“How about going back to town and handling your debts so I don’t have to?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Have you thought about doing that, Bryson? Because I can’t keep cleaning up your messes for you. And Dad…have you even thought about what Dad’s going through?”

He nods.

“I don’t think you do. “

Because if that were true, he wouldn’t even be here right now. He’d be down on his knees apologizing to our father and to me, and to the mountain man whose property he’s currently trespassing on, who spent thousands of dollars to clean up a mess he never created for people he’d never even met.

“Willow.” He glances at the cabin. “Please.”

My stomach drops. My anger fades.

“How much trouble are you really in?”

His silence is answer enough.

“Shit, Bryson.” I can’t help but think of the missing truck. “What did you get yourself into this time?”

“Willow, I…I just need a place to sleep for a few hours and maybe something to eat.” He talks faster when I shake my head. “I need a chance to think so I can figure out what to do,” he continues. “I can fix this. I can figure it out. I just need a bit to⁠—”

Murph appears and drops his ball at my feet before baring his teeth and snarling at Bryson, who takes a few steps backward and raises his hands.

“It’s okay, buddy.” I pat the dog, who doesn’t seem convinced.

Behind me, I hear the door of the cabin open, and I make a quick decision.

“Okay,” I tell Bryson. “You can rest in the garage. But you have to stay out of sight, and it’s only for today,” I add when he opens his mouth. “I’ll bring you some food and a change of clothes. But you need to be gone by tomorrow, understand?”

My brother nods. “Thank you.”

I shove him toward the garage before he can say anything else.

“And Bryson?” He turns. "Fix this,” I tell him. “Once and for all. I can’t keep doing this. I won’t.”

I turn back toward the cabin.

Murph lingers for a second, watching Bryson disappear into the garage before reluctantly following me.

Every step toward the porch feels heavier than the last.

Because I’m keeping something from Cal, and I never have before.

And it’s not small.

It’s the kind of secret that poisons everything it touches. Which terrifies me, because somehow in the last few days I think I’ve gone and fallen in love.

Chapter Fourteen

Cal

Luke drops the envelope onto the workbench with a heavy thud. “That’s all of it.”

I glance down at the stack of cash before sliding it into my back pocket. “Thanks for grabbing that for me, man. Appreciate it.”

“Not a big deal. I was in the city anyway.”

My friend raises a brow. I know him well enough to know there’s a lot more he wants to say.

I sigh and lean back against the bench, crossing my arms over my chest. “What?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Bull shit.”

Luke chuckles and drops his head for a second before looking at me. “You really need me to say it?”

I shake my head, not that it’s going to stop him.

I know exactly what he’s going to say. I’ve been thinking it, too. Probably every second since Willow walked out of the Rusty Nail with me.

I’m in too deep.

And if I thought that before I took her to bed, then now I’m really fucked. Because as much as I’ve tried to keep distance from her, any chance of that has been blown out of the water now.

Way out.

“You know what you’re doing, Cal?”

I open my mouth to give my friend a sharp retort. Instead, I close it and shake my head. “Not a fucking clue.”

Luke answers with a low whistle.

“Thought I did,” I continue. “But…”

“Been a long time since you’ve gone for the damsel in distress, hey?”

He doesn’t say it maliciously, and I nod, because we both know exactly how long it’s been. He was there. He saw the fallout of that decision and everything that came after it.

“It’s okay, you know?”

My head snaps up. “What’s okay?”

“To let yourself feel,” he says simply. “History doesn’t have to repeat itself,” he continues. “It won’t.”

“You don’t know that.” I turn away and walk toward the truck I’ve been working on, pressing my hands on the hood and dropping my head. “I mean…I know it’s different now,” I say without turning. “We’re not at war. This isn’t a mission. But…”

“But?”

“Hatch.” It’s the easy answer, but it’s not the whole truth. The part I don’t say is how I saw Willow's home. I saw with my own eyes what she’s come from. The battle she’s been fighting all on her own. I took her away from it all yesterday, but could I save her from it? Could I keep her safe from her family’s choices and the life that threatens to pull her under?

"I have my opinions on using your money to pay for someone else’s debts,” Luke says behind me. “But it’s your money, and you can do what you want with it. If paying off that asshole is going to keep her safe, then I support it. This will be over soon.”

If only it were that simple.

I inhale another deep breath and finally straighten, so I can look at my friend. “Maybe you’re right.”

I’m full of shit, and he knows me well enough to know it.

Thankfully, he also knows me well enough not to call me on it right now.

“Take care of Hatch,” Luke says, clapping me on my back and squeezing my shoulder. “Then you can figure out the rest.”

I look at him and nod. It’s a good plan. One thing at a time.

“Now, why don’t we get up to the house so I can finally meet this woman who’s got you all twisted up?”

“She’s a real spitfire,” I say with a laugh, and together we move for the door of the shop.

“I would expect nothing less.”

Luke walks past me outside, and as I reach back to turn the light off, I pause, a strange feeling like I’m being watched has the hair on the back of my neck bristling. I wait a moment and scan the room, but there’s nothing there. Of course there’s not.

I shake off the feeling, certain all this shit with Hatch has me unnecessarily worked up, and close the door behind me before catching up with Luke as we join the women on the porch.

Willow

Murph stretches out on the floorboards at our feet with a dramatic sigh and drops his head on his paws.

I bend to give him a scratch behind his ears before pouring Lilly and me each a glass of lemonade. I don’t know the first thing about hosting a guest. I’ve never actually had one before, and technically, this isn't even my house or my porch.

Lilly is about my age, pretty, and put together in a way I could never hope to be.

Her long dark hair is pulled up in a bun on the top of her head, and she’s wearing a sleeveless blouse over linen shorts. Her makeup is subtle, but pretty, and she even has a pretty gold necklace and matching earrings on. Self-consciously, I tug on my messy ponytail and glance down at my ratty cut-offs and tank top. At least I’m not still wearing Cal’s oversized clothes, having grabbed some before we left my house.

“You look great,” Lilly says, reading my mind. “I’m only dressed like this because we had a meeting with a client in town. I’m usually wearing leggings or shorts when I’m not working.”

“That’s right. Cal mentioned you and Luke work together.” I settle into the chair and take a sip of my lemonade. It’s way too sweet, and I quickly set it down. “Sorry about the lemonade. It was a powder mix I found in Cal’s cupboard.”

Lilly laughs and waves away my protests. “It’s cold and sugary. Pretty good combination to me.” She takes a sip and smiles. “Perfect. And yes, Luke’s daughter hired me to be his assistant a few months ago, but now we’re more like partners.” A satisfied smile crosses her lips. “It’s funny how things work out, right?”

My eyes dart toward the garage where Luke and Cal disappeared and where I’d told Bryson to hide.

“Right,” I say, my voice shaky. “I guess.”

“Are you okay? You seem nervous.”

The comment catches me off guard. I pick up my glass and take a sip, to give myself something to do.

“I’m fine.” I force a smile and glance over at Lilly. “I’m just…it’s been a lot,” I finish lamely.

At once, her expression softens. “Luke told me,” she says kindly. “You’re so brave for putting yourself in that situation in the first place. My friend Tessa told me how rough the Rusty Nail is. I’ve been warned about it myself. Oh, you probably haven’t met Tessa yet,” Lilly says quickly. “She’s a good friend—never mind. I don’t want to overwhelm you with a bunch of names. Besides, I’m sure you’ll meet the whole gang soon enough.” I don’t have time to think about what that comment might mean before she adds, “You must really love your brother to have put yourself in danger like that.”

I swallow hard, and my eyes dart toward the garage. “I do,” I say with a sigh. “Even though sometimes I wonder if…well… let’s just say he doesn’t always make it easy to love him.”

She nods like she understands. “Are you sure you’re okay? You really seem unsettled.”

Heat creeps up my neck. I don’t want to lie to my new friend, but it’s not like I can tell her the truth either.

"So you and Luke…he was your boss?”

She laughs and tosses her head back. “Oh yeah. Tessa is actually his daughter, and she hired me without telling him. Believe me when I say he was not happy about it.”

I can’t help but laugh along with her. “I believe that. These mountain men don’t really seem like the type to just go with the flow.”

“That’s the truth.” She takes another sip of her drink and studies me quietly, her laughter fading away. “Especially Cal.”

My stomach does a strange flip. I look away before she can notice.

Too late.

“Do you want to talk about it, Willow?”

I can’t meet her eyes. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever has you so twisted up right now?” she says quietly. “I’m a good listener.”

Even having just met her, I know that’s true. But there’s no way I can tell Lilly that the real cause of all my trouble, my brother, is hiding in Cal’s garage, only a few feet from where he and Luke are probably standing.

I can’t tell her how I’m keeping secrets from the only man who’s ever cared enough to help me. Cal’s the only man I’ve ever been able to picture a future with, and I’m risking it all.

Hot tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them back and blow out a breath.

“You know,” Lilly says softly after a moment of silence. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about these mountain men, it’s that they can handle anything we throw at them.”

I force myself to meet her eyes. “Anything?”

“Pretty much.” She laughs softly. “Especially for the women they let into their hearts.”

Their hearts?

“I don’t know if⁠—”

“What they don’t like,” she cuts me off smoothly, “is surprises.”

For a second, I’m convinced she can see right through me, and maybe she can. But her expression stays kind and open.

My gaze drifts toward the garage before I can stop myself.

Immediately, I regret it because Lilly’s gaze follows mine.

“Whatever it is,” she says quietly. “Trust that Cal can handle it, because he can.”

Before I can respond, the shop door opens, and Luke steps out into the yard. Cal is right behind him.

I see the moment he spots me sitting on the porch, and his face lights up with a broad smile. He looks happy and relaxed, and the sight of it makes my stomach flip.

Because all I can think about is how quickly that’s going to change when he finds out what I’ve done.

Cal

Luke’s leaning against the porch railing with a beer in his hand, while I flip burgers on the grill.

When we’d finally joined the women on the porch, it was easy to see how well they were getting along, and it had been such a long time since things had felt normal, whatever the hell that is, that we decided to have an impromptu cookout.

Besides, I owed my buddy a thank you for grabbing the cash for me so I didn’t have to leave the mountain. And Willow.

I close the lid on the grill and reach for my own beer, scanning the yard where the women are throwing the ball, again, for the dog.

“That dog is unhinged,” Luke observes.

“You’re just jealous because the girls like him.”

“Fair.” He shakes his head with a laugh.

Across the yard, both women throw their heads back in laughter as the dog bounces between them. I can’t stop watching them. Okay, I can’t stop watching Willow.

And thinking about what it would be like if she stayed.

The last few days had changed something between us. Hell, they’d changed something in me.

Willow isn’t only the woman I rescued from the Rusty Nail anymore. She isn’t the girl with the terrible family and the debt that never should have belonged to her in the first place.

She’s become part of my days and my life in a way that would have terrified me a few years ago.

Now, it only leaves me with a feeling of peace and happiness in a way I can’t remember ever feeling before.

Once upon a time, that would have scared the hell out of me, but now...

Luke follows my gaze and shakes his head.

“What?”

Luke's grin widens. “Oh, nothing.”

“Liar.” I shoot him a look. “Just say it.”

He shrugs. “I’m just over here watching you fall in love.”

I spin so quickly, I almost spill my beer on my asshole friend who thinks he knows everything. “What did you say?”

Luke shrugs, not bothering to hide his smile. “Calling it as I see it, man.”

"Why the hell would you think that I'm falling in love?"

Luke sets his beer down and looks at me seriously. "It's been a long time since I've seen you smile like that, man. A really long time."

“I smile.”

“No. You don’t.”

“I do.” Even as I protest, I know he’s right. It’s been a long time since I’ve smiled. And even longer since that smile wasn’t forced.

Instead of protesting, he simply raises his brows. I open my mouth, then close it with a shake of my head.

“That’s what I thought.”

For some reason, that earns a laugh from the women who’ve moved close enough to overhear our conversation.

How much did Willow hear?

“What’s so funny?” Luke steps toward Lilly and wraps an arm around her waist. “You weren’t eavesdropping, were you?”

She stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. “It’s hardly eavesdropping when the two of you talk loud enough for the entire mountain to hear.”

I glance at Willow, who simply shrugs. “Don’t look at me,” she says, laughter dancing in her eyes. “I’m trying very hard to mind my own business here.”

“Liar,” I mutter, my smile spreading over my face.

Beside me, Luke chuckles. “See?”

“Nobody asked you.”

“Huh. You should stop trying to prove my point then.”

Lilly rolls her eyes and leans into his side. “You two are exhausting.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

I watch as he tilts her chin up and kisses her deeply. The gesture is so natural and easy, it resonates. Because for a long time, I’d convinced myself that men like us don’t get things like that.

We don’t get love. We don’t get that easy affection and the certainty of having someone in your corner.

But here it is right in front of me.

Watching my buddy and his fiancée, it’s hard to deny that he’s found exactly that. And so has Holt. It’s getting harder to deny that it is possible after all.

My gaze drifts back to Willow, who is watching me watch them.

Instead of glancing away, she holds my gaze and smiles. This isn’t the sassy, teasing smile from a few days ago. Or the guarded one she wore as a mask when she’d first arrived.

This one is softer in a way that makes me feel like maybe Luke isn’t completely full of shit.

Before I can think better of it. I push away from the railing and cross the porch to her.

“What are you doing?”

I reach for her hand and pull her close instead of answering her. There’s no hesitation as she lets me pull her into my side as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to be cozied up to me.

The feeling that settles over me is so damn unfamiliar, I almost don’t recognize it.

Almost.

But then the contentment washes over me, and I slide my arm around her waist and start to pull her into my lap as I sit in the nearest chair.

Willow's arms come up around my neck as we settle onto the chair. “This is nice,” she murmurs against my mouth.

“I can’t disagree with that.” I press my lips to hers, unconcerned with the fact that we have an audience, only caring about this woman in my arms, and how I can keep her here, when a loud metallic crash echoes from the garage.

Every head on the porch turns. Murph is on his feet, barking and charging toward the garage.

My arms tighten reflexively on Willow, as I scan for danger.

But it’s her face that captures all of my attention.

The color has drained from her cheeks so fast I almost don’t recognize her.

Her eyes are wide and fixed on the garage. For a split second, she stares, and then she scrambles to her feet.

Beside me, Luke pushes away from the railing, quickly maneuvering Lilly so she’s behind him.

Years of training don’t disappear. I see the same shift happen in him that I feel in myself, as the easy afternoon evaporates.

Willow doesn’t even look at me as she starts to move. Not toward the house and safety, but toward the garage.

“Willow!”

She doesn’t answer as she runs down the steps.

The knot in my stomach tightens. My instincts are working on overdrive, and I’m after her in a flash.

“Willow!”

This time, she stops.

She’s frozen in the yard for a second before she turns slowly. The look on her face makes my heart clench, and my stomach turn.

“Cal. It’s not…I⁠—”

“What’s in the garage?”

Her eyes close briefly, and she inhales deeply.

And that’s the moment I know. Not because of what she says, but because of everything she doesn’t.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head.

“Cal.” She reaches for me, but I shrug her off as I move past her.

Chapter Fifteen

Willow

“Cal.”

His name barely leaves my mouth before he's moving, shrugging off my touch as he heads towards the garage, his shoulders back, his jaw set.

“Cal, wait.”

He doesn’t.

Murph’s barking gets louder as we reach the garage. Luke’s right there beside us.

By the time Cal reaches for the door, I already know it’s too late.

He knows and whatever tiny hope I’d been clinging to—that I could explain it, or fix it, or…I don’t even know what—vanishes completely.

Cal shoves open the sliding door. It rattles on its hinges from the effort.

Inside, Bryson stands in front of a toolbox spilled open on the floor. When the door opens, he lunges for a wrench. Cal’s voice stops him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

In what’s probably the smartest decision he’s had in recent years, Bryson freezes.

For a long second, nobody speaks.

My brother looks like an exhausted little boy, dwarfed in the clean flannel I took from Cal’s drawer, his eyes darting between all of us like a trapped animal looking for an escape route.

Next to me, I can feel the tension radiating off Cal’s rigid body.

“You knew.” It’s not a question, and he doesn’t look at me when he speaks.

“Cal,” I try. “I can explain.”

He doesn’t acknowledge me. He takes two long strides into the garage, stepping over his spilled tools as he reaches for Bryson, grabs him by the collar of his shirt, and slams him up against the wall.

“You have some fucking nerve coming here after⁠—”

“Cal!”

My shout echoes in the garage, but he barely seems to hear it; he’s so locked on my brother and the perceived threat of him.

The color drains from Bryson’s face as Cal shoves him harder against the wall. “You better have one hell of a fucking explanation for showing up here after everything she’s been through because of you.”

“I know,” Bryson says quickly. “I know I screwed up.”

“Do you?” Cal’s voice stays low, but that only makes it worse, emphasizing his anger even more. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you ran away and left your sister to deal with another one of your messes. And this one almost got her...” he swallows hard. I see the tension in his jaw as he shakes his head. “I should kill you for the danger you put her in.”

Bryson flinches; no doubt he believes Cal will make good on his threat. And for a flash, I’m not sure he won’t.

“Cal.” I move closer, hating how shaky my voice sounds. “Please.”

For a second, I think he’s going to keep ignoring me. And I wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to me again.

The thought makes my chest ache, but I don’t have time to let that idea take root. I need to manage this situation. Because even if he is an asshole and doesn’t deserve my help, Bryson is still my brother.

After a long moment, Cal’s eyes find mine.

The anger I expected to see flashing in his gaze isn’t there. I almost wish it were. Because the hurt I see reflected back at me is worse.

So much worse.

“He only got here this morning,” I say softly. “I didn’t know what else to do. He promised he’d be gone by tomorrow.”

“You could have told me.”

The words aren’t loud, but they don’t have to be.

I open my mouth to find some kind of explanation, but there isn’t one.

“You should have told me, Willow.”

He’s right. We both know it. After everything, I should have told him. I should have trusted him. In my gut, I know it would have been okay if I’d been honest with Cal. It’s not a familiar feeling, knowing I can trust in someone. But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn.

“I know,” the words are slightly more than a whisper. “And I’m⁠—”

The unmistakable sound of tires crunching gravel and the revving of a truck engine cuts through the air before I can tell him everything I’m feeling.

For half a second, nobody moves, as if we’re all trying to convince ourselves we didn’t hear it. Then another set of tires follows the first.

Bryson’s head twists toward the closed door and the unmistakable sounds outside. Fear flashes over his face. “Shit.”

Every muscle in Cal’s body tightens. Whatever hurt he’d let me see a second ago is shoved aside as something cold and focused takes its place.

Beside me, Luke has gone still, too.

“What did you do?” Cal aims the question at my brother, who swallows hard and shakes his head. “I’m only going to ask you one more time, asshole.” Cal grits the words out. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“Hatch.”

We already knew the answer, but the name still sucks the air from the room.

“I called him and⁠—”

“Bryson!” My mouth drops. “You called him? Why?”

“I’m in trouble, Willow.” His wild eyes find mine. “I saw the money he brought,” his head jerks toward Luke, “and I thought maybe it could buy me some time. You don’t know these guys like I do.”

“Yes.” Cal jerks him by the collar. “She does. And so do I. If you think for one second they’re going to let you walk out of here just because you’re a traitorous rat, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

For a moment, I’m afraid Cal’s going to hit him, and I no longer care. But Cal shoves Bryson back against the wall as he releases him and turns to Luke. “Get the women inside.”

Luke’s already moving toward where he left Lilly on the porch. He stops and looks at me, but I shake my head.

“I’m not⁠—”

“Willow.” Cal’s voice is tight.

“I’m not leaving,” I tell him. “This is my mess. I started this, and I’m not⁠—”

“This is not your mess.” Cal turns so suddenly that I take a staggering step backwards. “This is his mess,” he doesn’t bother looking at Bryson, but we both know who he’s talking about. “And I will not have you getting caught up in it. Again.”

“Cal. This is⁠—”

“Please.”

The softness of the single word surprises us both. His gaze flicks to the garage door at the sound of a slamming door.

We’re out of time.

For a moment, he stares at me.

Another truck door slams. A voice, loud and angry, calls out, but Cal doesn’t look away.

“Willow,” he says quietly, closing the inches between us. “Don’t make me choose between protecting you and dealing with this.”

The words hit me harder than anything else he’s said, because underneath the anger and the secrets I’ve kept, it’s clear that he cares.

I hesitate, but only for another second, and only because never in my life has anyone ever cared enough about me to protect me.

Ever.

“Be careful,” I whisper the words before pressing my lips to his, turning and running out the back door toward the house.

Cal

The second I step out of the garage, my training kicks in. My eyes scan the yard, assessing the scene.

From the corner of my eye, I see the porch door swing shut. Good, Willow's safely inside.

Two trucks.

Four men.

The gravel crunches under my feet as I take a step toward the house, placing myself between the trespassers and the women inside.

Murph is by my side, his teeth bared, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

I glance down at my faithful companion. “Murph, go find Willow.”

The dog looks up with big eyes, but I gesture toward the house with a slight nod. Like the good boy he is, the dog runs off without another word, positioning himself on the top of the porch where he can stand guard for the woman we’ve both fallen for.

It’s only then that I give the situation my full attention.

Ronnie Hatch leans against the hood of a blue truck I don’t recognize, probably because Willow's idiot brother stole his usual ride. I clench my teeth and mutter out a few choice curse words about the moron in my garage who started all of this.

Hatch looks up at the sound of my boots crunching on gravel. His thumbs are hooked through his belt loops, his expression relaxed enough that there’s no doubt the asshole thinks he’s got this situation easily in hand.

He’s wrong. Very wrong.

Beside me, Luke appears from the direction of the cabin and falls into place next to me without a word, only a nod that tells me what I need to know.

The women are safe, and the message has been sent to the rest of our brothers. Holt and Beck will have been notified in case things go sideways out here.

Not that I expect them to. Hatch isn’t the type to want to draw attention to himself more than necessary. With any luck, he’ll take his money and get the hell off my property for good.

Hatch stands, spitting a stream of tobacco juice into the dirt at his feet.

Filthy animal.

“You’re not welcome here, Hatch.”

“I’ll be on my way when I get what’s mine.”

The hair on the back of my neck bristles.

He makes a show of looking around. “Where is the little lady anyway?”

Luke clamps a hand on my shoulder, holding me back moments before I lunge for the fucker. “He’s just trying to get you riled up.”

“No,” Hatch says as if Luke had addressed him. “I’m trying to get what’s mine.”

“Willow has nothing to do with this.” I work hard to keep my voice level and my temper in check. Luke’s right. He’s only trying to get me worked up and give him an excuse to escalate this even further. I won’t give him the satisfaction. “I’ve got your money right here.”

“Bout time.”

Hatch uses his head to gesture at one of his cronies to step forward.

I toss the envelope at Dale’s feet, where it lands with a cloud of dust.

“It’s all there. Debt’s paid. Get the hell out of here.”

Dale bends to grab the envelope, and I have to hold myself back from kicking dirt in his face. My temper is only barely reined in.

Hatch takes his time flicking through the bills, counting them before tucking the envelope into his back pocket. “Price went up,” he says, spitting into the dirt. “Pretty sure I sent that message.”

“That debt’s not mine.” I cross my arms over my chest and spread my legs. “As far as I’m concerned. We’re finished here.”

Right on cue, because he’s clearly a bigger idiot than I thought, there’s the sound of gravel crunching behind me as Bryson leaves the safety of the garage.

“There he is.” Hatch’s gaze slides past me and lands on Willow's brother. “Thanks for the call. I was beginning to think you were hiding from me.”

Behind him, his men laugh.

Nobody on my side does, and the sound dies quickly.

“Where’s my truck?”

“I…it’s…I thought maybe you’d…”

“What?” Hatch’s facade of friendliness dies. “You thought calling me to give me the heads up on a debt that was already mine to collect on would buy you my forgiveness?”

Beside me, I see Bryson blanch. He’s an even bigger idiot than I thought. And a shady one at that.

“You stole from me, kid.”

“I was going to pay it back.”

Even I know that’s the wrong thing to say.

Hatch barks out a laugh. “No,” he says smoothly. “You weren’t.” And then to me, he says, “Hand him over.”

I should. After all, this kid has caused me nothing but trouble. And money. Never mind what he’s put Willow through. I don’t owe him any loyalty at all. Hell, I’ve already done more than my share.

I take my time looking between Bryson and the men waiting to beat the shit out of him.

Next to me, Luke shifts his weight. I know him well enough to know that he’ll back whatever decision I make. I also know him well enough to know that he already knows what I’m going to do.

“No.”

I can hear Bryson exhale beside me, but I don’t spare him a glance. I’m not doing this for him.

“Really, Reeves? You don’t even like him.”

“No,” I say. “I don’t.”

“Then why exactly are we having this conversation?” Hatch takes a step toward us, but I hold my ground.

Because I know exactly what it means if I hand him over. Because I know what he means to Willow and what it will do to her if I do. Because I already care way more than I should. But mostly, because it’s the right fucking thing to do.

“You’re not taking him.”

Hatch sighs dramatically and flexes his fingers tighter, cracking his knuckles. “I was hoping to do this the easy way.”

“Funny.” I fold my arms over my chest. “I was hoping you’d take your money and crawl back under whatever rock you came from.” My jaw twitches.

The men behind him laugh nervously and exchange glances. Beside me, I hear Luke sigh. He knows the situation is about to go sideways. As if it wasn’t already.

Hatch’s smile slips.

“That’s a problem with you mountain boys.” Hatch shakes his head. “You think you’re untouchable up here.”

“No.” Luke’s voice is calm beside me. “We just don’t like bullies.”

Hatch ignores him, his gaze fixed on me. "I’m not leaving till I get what I came for.”

“You got your money.”

He shakes his head once and spits tobacco juice into the dirt. “Not my truck.”

“Not my problem.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bryson trying to back away. I shoot him a quick glare, and he stays put. We’re here right now because of him. I’ll be damned if he’s going anywhere.

“The product I lost sure as hell is your problem, Reeves.”

Product?

That catches my attention. I swallow hard and pinch the bridge of my nose. Of course, this isn’t as simple as some money and a stolen truck, not that anything about this situation has been simple up till now.

Luke curses under his breath as he, too, figures out how deep this situation goes. I turn to Bryson. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into, kid?”

His face is sheet white, and he looks like he might throw up.

“Tell me, Cal,” Hatch takes another step forward and jerks his head toward my garage. “You have enough cash back there to cover the product this asshole stole? Or do I start searching on my own?”

“Take one more step and I⁠—”

The threat is lost to the slamming of the screen door behind me.

I watch as Hatch’s eyes widen and his lip curls up as he turns in the direction of the cabin.

And Willow.

I don’t need to turn to know it’s her standing there.

Luke mutters a curse under his breath. I swallow back my own string of expletives.

“Well, well, there she is. I was wondering when you were going to join us, little lady.”

Every muscle in my body locks up. Slowly, I turn, and my stomach drops at the sight of her.

Willow stands on the porch, her hands planted firmly on her hips, looking every bit as stubborn and sassy as she did the night she set foot into the Rusty Nail.

The sight of her disobeying my request, with Murph at her feet like a trusty sidekick ready to go into battle, should piss me off. It makes me suck in a breath instead, because God help me, I don’t think I’ve ever been more impressed.

Chapter Sixteen

Willow

Next to me, Murph growls and bares his teeth toward the intruders standing in the yard. The dog’s furry presence emboldens me. But it’s the man standing with his legs spread, and his arms crossed over his broad chest, that really makes me feel safe.

Cal.

I know I’ve hurt him. I hate it.

But at the moment, there’s nothing I can do about that.

Well, maybe not nothing.

I take a breath, steeling myself against the gross way Ronnie’s looking at me. Even from this distance, I can practically feel the way he’s undressing me with his eyes. And I’m about to get closer.

I reach around to pat my back pocket, reassuring myself that my phone is still there, and walk down the steps, and head straight for Ronnie.

“Willow.”

I swallow hard at the warning in Cal’s voice and hope like hell he trusts me enough to let this happen.

Honestly, I’m not entirely sure myself that it will work. But somebody needs to end this once and for all. And since I got myself into this mess, I’m damn well going to get myself out of it.

I keep walking.

Behind me, I hear Cal mutter a string of expletives under his breath.

Good. At least he hasn’t given up on me yet. The thought gives me a fresh burst of resolve.

Ronnie’s smile widens as I stop a few feet away from him. Close enough to smell the stale cigarettes and beer on him.

“Nice of you to join us.”

I ignore him and say, “You want to tell me exactly what your issue with my brother is?”

“All you need to know is he owes me a lot of money.” Ronnie sneers, but I don’t react. “And that means that you owe me a lot of money. Or something else just as valuable.”

I work hard not to react to his disgusting innuendo.

I give him my sweetest smile, instead. “I can’t imagine that rusty piece of junk you were driving around was worth much more than a six pack, Ronnie.”

He spits a heavy stream of tobacco juice into the dirt before straightening and stepping up to me. Beside me, Murph growls, and I’m pretty sure I hear a similar sound from Cal behind me, but I don’t back down.

“It’s not the truck, Willow.” Ronnie reaches out and runs one dirty finger down my cheek. I steel myself, trying not to gag on his stale breath. “It’s what was inside.”

“And what was inside?” I force my voice to stay even and sound as innocent as possible. “Must be worth quite a bit if you’re going to all this trouble to collect.”

“Don’t trouble your pretty little head with the dirty details.”

I glance down, so I’m looking at him through my eyelashes in a move I hope is flirty enough to throw him off. “Oh,” I purr, laying it on as thick as I can. “But dirty details are my favorite kind.”

Again, I’m sure I hear a string of curses from Cal, but I don’t dare turn around. I focus on Ronnie, who, by some miracle, appears to be falling for my ruse. So I kick it up a notch and reach out, tracing my finger up the inside of his arm. “You know,” I say, dropping my voice conspiratorially, “I know a lot more about this kind of stuff than you might think.”

“Oh yeah?”

I shrug. “Small town. People talk and…well, you know my brother.” It’s a risk bringing Bryson into this, but I have to take the chance. Ronnie scowls, but I continue, letting my finger drift away. “I have to admit, Ronnie. I never figured you for a guy important enough to move something worth stealing.”

The bait lands exactly the way I hoped it would.

“Pft. Important enough?” he laughs. “Little lady, the goods in my truck are worth more than everything your family owns.”

I widen my eyes in faux surprise.

“Really?”

“Fifty grand worth,” he says proudly. “How’s that for important enough?”

“Wow.” I bat my eyelashes, laying it on thick. “You really must be important to have that kind of…what exactly?”

“The kind of product city folk will pay top dollar for.” He puffs up his chest. “Pure and uncut.”

There it is.

“Sounds risky.”

He laughs, and I take the opportunity to take a step back, putting distance between us.

“Only if you get caught,” he says. “And I don’t plan on it.” The arrogance—and stupidity—practically drips off him. “By the time anybody figures out where my shipments are going, they’re already halfway across the province.”

Shipments. Plural.

Got you.

I knew Ronnie was into some bad shit, but I had no idea it was this bad.

I almost smile.

“But I am going to need that truck back, kid.” His head swings toward my brother, and I use his moment of distraction to step all the way back in line with Cal.

Beside me, Cal’s hand reaches out to find me. He laces his fingers through mine and squeezes quickly before pulling back.

“I don’t think you should worry about the truck, Ronnie.”

Once more, his gaze focuses on me, a quick flash of surprise on his face to see that I’m no longer standing directly in front of him with a flirty smile on my face.

He opens his mouth to protest, but before he can, I reach into my back pocket and pull out my cell phone. Quickly, I hit stop on the recording and press send on the message, sending the recording to the authorities, all before I look up to see Ronnie’s face twisted into a purple, pulsing rage as he steps toward me.

“What the fuck?”

“Don’t bother.” I hold my hand out as if it could stop his advance. “The recording’s already been sent to the authorities.”

“Joke’s on you, sweetheart,” he sneers. “There’s no cell service on the mountain.”

“Think again, Hatch.” Cal steps up, putting himself between us. Luke is right there with him. 

“I installed a state-of-the-art communications system up here years ago,” Luke says. “Private network, of course.”

Ronnie’s gaze drops to the phone in my hand, and I watch the realization spread across his face. For the first time since he arrived on the mountain, the mask of confidence slips. Not completely, but enough for me to see the panic underneath. I can't stop the small smile of satisfaction that crosses my face.

“You little bitch.”

He comes at me fast enough that I barely have time to react, but Cal moves faster. His hand wraps around Ronnie's wrist before he can get anywhere close to me.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Ronnie spits out a string of nasty words and tries to wrench himself free, but Cal has a seriously strong hold.

“Let go of me.”

Cal’s expression shifts into something dangerous as he narrows his gaze. “I suggest you start making better decisions,” he says, tightening his grip enough to make Ronnie’s face twist. “Because that was a particularly bad one.”

Beside us, Luke crosses his arms across his chest and watches the exchange unfold with the relaxed expression of a man who already knows how it ends.

“Can’t say I disagree,” Luke says with a shake of his head. “Personally, I think you’re getting off easy.”

Everyone standing there, especially Ronnie, knows without a doubt that Cal’s perfectly capable of snapping Ronnie’s wrist, and I’m not sure that he won’t.

Finally, Cal releases him with a shove backwards. Ronnie works to keep his feet under him as he stumbles back toward the truck. “You’re going to⁠—”

Whatever threat he’s still stupid enough to utter is cut off with the roaring of truck engines making their way down the gravel forestry roads.

“Fuck, Ronnie,” Dale yells behind him. “Someone’s coming.”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” someone else hollers.

There’s a flurry of activity as the men scramble for their vehicles. Ronnie hesitates, but only for a second before he spits one last time and says, “This ain’t over.”

Cal wraps an arm around me, tugging me close. “It sure as hell is.” 

Cal

By the time the dust settles, literally, Hatch and his men are halfway down the mountain running like the scared little boys they truly are.

Good riddance. Although their issues are far from over. As far as I’m concerned, I’m done with them. And if I ever see any of their faces on my mountain again, it’ll be too soon.

Despite Willow sending the recording to the authorities, which was a brilliant idea, even if it was risky, it wasn’t the cops coming up the mountain the way those idiots thought.

Just as dangerous, if not more so, it was Holt and Beck. We served together more than twenty years ago, and they’ve never failed to have my back. Then and now.

We might not spend a lot of time together since moving out to the mountain, all of us battling our own demons, but we’re there for each other when it counts. And I’m glad to see their faces.

Beck is the first one to walk over, joining us in front of the porch. “Can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a couple of assholes run that fast,” he says with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t be surprised if they drive themselves right off the road the way they were driving.”

I tighten my grip on Willow, happy they’re gone. I don’t even want to think about how that could have gone. The danger she was in. The danger she put herself in.

“The message got through?” I ask Beck. He’s worked closely with local and federal law enforcement authorities on various cases over the years since leaving the military. He always had exceptional skills and a unique talent for having no fear when it came to putting himself into situations most men would be terrified of.

“It did.” He nods. “It was a good idea to send that so quickly,” he addresses Willow, who straightens in my hold. “Risky,” he adds. “But smart.”

“It was Lilly’s idea to call you,” she says, surprising me. “She said you’d know who to send it to.”

Luke laughs as Lilly appears on the porch. He waves her over, and she runs to join us. “I guess filling you in on the details of my friends paid off, hey?” He kisses her on the top of her head and pulls her close.

“What can I say?” she shrugs. “I pay attention. But it was Willow's idea to taunt him into admitting everything.”

“It was reckless,” I growl, not wanting to think about what could have happened if I hadn’t been there and Hatch got his hands on her.

“But it worked.” Willow presses her lips together, ready to defend her irresponsible actions with her usual fiery attitude. “And I’d do it again.”

I’m about to protest, but Holt steps in. “Relax, Cal. She’s right. It worked. And if there’s one thing I know about these women of ours, it’s that once they have their minds set on something, there’s no stopping them.” He shakes his head with a chuckle. No doubt thinking about Tessa, his new wife, who also happens to be Luke’s daughter. “No point fighting it.”

Women of ours?

I glance down at Willow. Is she mine?

The tangle of feelings rolling me right now—protectiveness, relief, desire, frustration, and God help me, love—settles it.

I tighten my arm around her. We have a lot to talk about. A lot. But Holt’s right about one thing: there’s no point in fighting it when it comes to Willow, and I wouldn’t want to.

Even when she can be infuriating. And she really can.

“It was—” I hold my hand up to stop all the objections I know I’m about to get. “Smart,” I finish, and Willow looks up at me, a tentative smile on her face. “It was really smart,” I say directly to her. “Hopefully it’s enough to put him away for a long time.”

“It sure as hell should be,” Beck says, jumping into our conversation. “But it would be better if we had the truck. With evidence like that…” he lets out a low whistle.

“Maybe I can help with that.”

All heads turn to Bryson, who’s standing a few steps away from the rest of us like he’s not sure if he should turn and run before we all remember he’s still there.

If he were smarter, it’s exactly what he should have done.

I turn, releasing Willow only so I can grab the kid if he does bolt. “What do you mean?”

“The truck,” he stammers. “I know where it is.”

“What do you mean?" Beck steps up. "You know where the truck is?"

“I assumed you would have dumped it,” I say. “Or sold it.”

Bryson looks between Willow and me as if his sister can help him answer for him. I’m growing very weary of this kid leaning on his sister to get him out of all his problems.

When Willow doesn't offer any guidance, Bryson turns back to me and starts talking. "I took the truck because I needed a way to get out of town," he shoots a guilty glance at his sister. "But when I realized what was inside, I didn't want anything to do with it. I mean... there's trouble, and then there's trouble," he says. “So I dumped it down by the river. If I got caught with that…”

“You would have had bigger problems than Ronnie to deal with,” Willow says with a shake of her head. “At least you made one somewhat smart decision in all this.”

I failed to see how he’d made any smart decisions, but it didn’t seem like the time to bring it up.

“And you can take me to the truck?” Beck asks.

Bryson nods.

“Let’s go,” he jerks his head toward the truck.

“Right now?”

“You got something else to do?”

Bryson glances at his sister. Willow doesn’t say a word. She crosses her arms and shakes her head tightly.

“Guess not.”

There’ll be time for her to deal with her brother, but I agree, now is not the time.

“We’ll take him down the mountain,” Holt says to me. “He’s going to have a lot of explaining to do,” he addresses the last comment to Willow, who only shrugs.

“I can’t protect him from everything,” she says. “Not anymore. If he broke the law, he needs to face it.”

I know it hurts her to say it, but I’m so proud of her for coming to the realization that she doesn’t need to carry the weight of his choices.

“Thanks, guys.” I look at each of my buddies. “I appreciate⁠—”

“You don’t need to say it,” Holt stops me.

“It’s what we do,” Luke adds.

I nod. It is what we do.

Willow and I don’t speak as we stand side by side watching my friends get in their trucks and drive away. The silence settles around us.

For once, the mountain is truly quiet. Even Murph has retreated to the porch steps.

It’s not until we’re alone in the yard that she finally turns to me.

The truth is, I already know what she's going to say. I also know we can't leave it hanging between us. Not anymore.

Not if this is going to go any further.

And lord help me, even after everything, I do. More than anything.

"We need to talk."

We both speak the words at the exact same time, and I almost smile.

Almost.

But then I look at her and remember exactly why this conversation is going to be a lot harder than either of us wants it to be. “Let’s go inside.”

Chapter Seventeen

Willow

The last thing I want to do is talk. What I really want to do is snuggle into Cal's arms and forget that today ever happened, but one look at him and I know that's not going to happen. Besides, I owe him more than silence.

A lot more.

The walk back to the cabin feels longer than it should.

Every step gives me a fresh opportunity to think about how I’ve screwed things up.

Instead of appreciating and respecting everything he’s done for me, what did I do?

I betrayed him at the first opportunity.

The screen door creaks as Cal pulls it open and waits for me to step inside.

The familiar scent of pine and wood smoke, with a touch of motor oil, wraps around me, and for one ridiculous second, I wish we could go back a week.

It’s hard to believe now that I could ever think Cal was like other men.

I walk straight to the kitchen window, place my hands on the counter, and stare outside for a moment before taking a deep breath and turning around to face him. “I should have told you.”

He doesn’t speak right away, his handsome face completely unreadable.

For a man who spends most of his time pretending not to care about anything, Cal is annoyingly good at silence.

The longer it stretches between us, the worse I feel. Finally, he crosses his arms over his chest and blows out a breath. "Yeah, you should have."

I expect him to raise his voice. To yell. To be angry at the danger I put him in. That I put all of us in. But he just stands there, calm and controlled. And then he says, “I’m sorry you didn’t think you could trust me, Willow.”

I take a staggering step backwards, knocking into the counter. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he says. He drops his gaze and looks down at his feet for a moment. “I never want you to think it’s not safe to tell me the truth, and I hate that you felt you had to hide that from me. I never⁠—”

“No,” I stop him. “It’s not your fault, Cal. It’s mine.”

The words come out sharper than I intend, but I can't stand here and let him take responsibility for this.

“Willow—”

“No.” I shake my head. “You don’t get to apologize for this.”

I push away from the counter and start pacing across the kitchen floor, too wound up to stand still.

“I saw Bryson standing there and I…I just didn’t think,” I admit. “He’s my brother, and he was exhausted and dirty and skinny and…” I look up. “Scared,” I say. “He looked scared, Cal.” It’s the first time I register that for myself. In all the years, Bryson’s been getting himself into trouble, and I’ve been bailing him out, he’s always been cocky and self-assured and way too overconfident for his own good. Not once have I ever seen him scared.

I take a breath, letting that sink in, before I continue. “So I did what I always do,” I tell Cal.

“And what’s that?”

I let out a humorless laugh and shake my head. “I fixed it.”

The answer hangs between us, and I can see clearly that despite all of my efforts over the years when it comes to Bryson, I have never actually fixed anything at all.

I lift my hands and drop them as that realization settles over me. “At least, I tried to,” I say, quieter now.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment before opening them and looking Cal straight in the eyes. “I think at some point, I managed to convince myself that if I tried enough, I could keep everything together.” My throat tightens. “After Mom died, we all kind of fell apart. Every problem, every mess, every…well, everything became my issue to deal with.”

Cal doesn’t interrupt. He simply stands before me and listens, which makes it easier to speak the words I’ve been holding inside for far too long.

“Nobody else stepped up, and pretty soon, everyone just expected that I would handle things. The problem is, after a while, you just get so used to carrying the load on your own that you don’t even realize how heavy it is.” I shrug helplessly.

The silence stretches for a minute.

“So, when I saw him standing there, I just reacted. I didn’t even think about what it might mean to you.”

The admission hurts because it’s true. And that makes it even worse.

“I fell right back into old habits without considering how hard you’d worked to protect me, or the danger I could be putting all of us in by hiding him.”

A tear slips down my cheek, and I swipe at it roughly before wrapping my arms around myself. “I didn’t think what it might do to us.”

The words hardly make it out, because now that I hear them out loud, I know that’s the part that hurts the most.

Us.

Because that’s what this has become. And now, I’m afraid I’ve ruined us before we even got a chance.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” My voice shakes, and Cal’s expression shifts.

“You’re not just the grumpy mountain man whose cabin I’ve been hiding in.” I let out a shaky laugh as another tear slips free. “This strangely protective man who sleeps outside my bedroom door while I try to figure out why exactly he’d sacrifice so much for a girl he doesn’t even know.”

My throat tightens, but I keep going.

“Somehow, between the cups of tea you made me every morning, organizing your mess of a garage for you, and winning over your dog, you became a whole lot more than that…” I risk a smile. “You became someone I care about.”

The admission leaves me feeling exposed, but I no longer care about being vulnerable.

I drop my arms and take a step toward him. Then another. “Nothing Ronnie Hatch could have done to me could have been worse than knowing I hurt you, Cal.” I reach for his hand, my fingers trembling slightly as they close around his. “Because the truth is, you’re the very best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

The confession slips from me on a breath.

His hand turns mine over, his rough thumb brushing across my palm. The simple touch almost undoes me. For a second, neither of us says anything.

Cal stands there looking at me like he's trying to see straight through every wall I've spent years putting up. Maybe he can, because for the first time in my life, the words that I've been trying not to say don't seem nearly as terrifying as the thought of leaving them unsaid.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you sent me off the mountain to get your peace and quiet back. I would understand. I know I’m not easy. I come with baggage and an attitude and a terrible habit of getting mixed up in trouble.” I blow out a breath and force myself to continue. “You don’t owe me anything. So, if you want me to, I’ll leave.” I look up into his dark eyes, blinking back tears. “But I really hope you don’t. Because I’ve gone my whole life without feeling this way, and I think if I walk away now, I’ll never feel it again.”

I finish speaking on a sob, but I don’t have time to pull myself together before his arms are around me, my chin held between his thumb and finger as he stares deeply in my eyes. “Darling.” His voice is rough. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Cal

One minute I’m standing in front of her, listening to the woman I love tell me she’s willing to walk away and leave me to live my quiet life on the mountain in my peace, and the next, I’ve got her in my arms.

“Darling,” I murmur, my voice rough enough that I barely recognize it as my own. “You’re not going anywhere.”

And then my lips are on hers, because there’s nothing I can say to properly express to her everything I’m feeling.

There are no words to properly convey how terrified I’ve been.

Not for her safety. No. I would have torn Hatch limb from limb before he laid a finger on my girl.

I’d been terrified I’d lost her trust. That she didn’t feel she could confide in me. That I’d gotten it wrong between us. And that one bad decision and stupid mistake had managed to destroy the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

The kiss is everything I don’t have words for.

My hands slide into her hair as I pull her closer. She comes willingly, fitting into my arms like she was made just for me.

Because she was.

A sound escapes her throat as she melts into me.

God. This woman.

This stubborn, fiery, gorgeous, absolutely impossible woman.

I kiss her until neither of us can breathe, and even then, it doesn’t feel like enough.

When I finally pull back, my forehead rests on hers, and I close my eyes for a second, giving myself a moment to feel her in my arms and remind myself that she’s still here.

From the moment I set eyes on her in the Rusty Nail, I think part of me knew that this woman was going to change my life forever.

“Willow,” I say quietly. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Her breath catches. I can see the flash of uncertainty in her eyes, like she’s bracing herself for the worst.

Something about that pisses me off, because even after everything we’ve been through, this woman has still convinced herself that somehow I could send her away, watch her walk down this mountain, and carry on without her.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

“I love you.”

The words come easier than expected. Because it’s been true for a while now. And after today, pretending otherwise feels totally impossible.

Her eyes widen, and God help me, I think she might be holding her breath, but I’m only getting started.

“I love your sassy mouth.” I brush my thumb across her bottom lip. “I love that you argue with me even when you know you’re wrong.”

A laugh escapes her. “I’m never wrong.”

“Right?” I raise a brow and shake my head, happy to see her relax.

“I love that you care too much.” My voice drops. “Even when it gets you into trouble. Even when it drives me crazy. Even when it makes me want to lock you up in the cabin to keep you safe.”

She rolls her eyes.

“I love that about you, because it’s who you are, Willow. And I love you.”

I kiss her forehead to punctuate my point.

She laughs, and this time the sound settles deep inside me because I can no longer picture this place without that sound. Without her throwing the ball relentlessly for Murph. Without her walking around my shop in my old t-shirts that she’s modified into the sexiest clothes on the planet. I can’t even begin to think about nights without her wrapped around me.

Hell, I can’t picture any of it. And I never want to.

“I spent a lot of years convincing myself I was better off alone,” I admit to her now. “That I couldn’t be of use to anyone. Not anymore.”

“Cal, you⁠—”

“But then you showed up, and that all went out the window,” I stop her, needing to get this out once and for all. “You showed me that I don’t have to be alone. I don’t have to close myself off from the possibility of love again. And that even though it will always be my instinct to keep you safe and protect you from the world, it’s not my burden to carry.”

She shakes her head.

“There was a woman once,” I admit on a breath. “It was a long time ago, when I was serving overseas.” The words come slowly. “A local woman, her name was Mara, and she was caught up in the middle of someone else’s war. I cared about her more than I had any business doing, given where we were and our circumstances.”

Willow stays quiet, her hand still in mine as she listens.

“There was an op. I told her to stay hidden, locked in. I swore to her I’d come back for her as soon as I could.“ My jaw tightens. “I meant it. But things went sideways, the way they do. And by the time I made it back…” I can’t bring myself to say the rest.

A tear slips down Willow’s cheek.

“She trusted me to keep her safe, and…I couldn’t. I’ve spent twenty years telling myself there was nothing I could have done.” I shake my head.

“Today, when Hatch showed up, and you were standing right there in the middle of it…” I suck in a breath. “It took me right back to that day. I thought I was going to lose you, too.”

She puts her hand on my cheek, forcing me to look at her. “You didn’t lose me, Cal,” she murmurs. “You won’t. That was a long time ago.” I nod. “And I’m not her.”

“No,” I agree. “You’re not.” I wipe the tear from her cheek. “But I needed you to know why I am the way I am.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Don’t go,” I blurt out. “Not now. Not ever.”

“What?”

“Stay.”

My hands settle on her hips. “Today. Tomorrow. Forever. I don’t want a life that doesn’t have you in it.”

She waves a hand toward the road. “My dad…”

“We’ll figure it out,” I tell her. “Together. But you deserve to live, Willow.”

More tears slide down her cheeks as she nods in agreement.

“Marry me.”

She sucks in a breath. “What?”

“I don’t care if it makes sense. I don’t care that it happened fast. I just know that I’m a better man with you. Marry me.”

“That’s your proposal?” She tilts her head and gives me a sharp, sassy look that makes me laugh.

“I wasn’t really planning it,” I tell her. “And maybe it’s not the most romantic, but..yes. That’s my proposal. Marry me, Willow. Together we are⁠—”

“Yes!” She shouts her interruption so loud, Murph rouses from his spot on the steps, and he runs down to join us, barking at our feet. “Yes,” she yells out. “I’ll marry you. I’ll stay. I’ll…well, I don’t know what else. But, yes!”

We’re both laughing and kissing as I pull her into my arms and spin her around because I’m never letting her go. Not again. Not ever.

Six Months Later…

Willow

The first thing I notice when we pull into Dad's driveway is that someone has shoveled the walk.

Not just a narrow path to the front door, either. The entire driveway has been cleared, right down to the packed snow beneath. The walkway leading to the porch has been salted so thoroughly that not a single patch of ice remains.

For a second, I sit in the truck, staring out the windshield at it, and then the realization sneaks up on me.

I didn't shovel it. I didn’t spend hours out there chipping at ice and laying down salt or sand.

For as long as I could remember, if I didn't do something, it simply didn't get done. If I didn't buy the groceries, nobody ate. If I didn't pay the bills, the lights got shut off, and if I didn't keep track of the appointments, medications, repairs, and every other little thing that came with holding a household together, it all fell apart.

It was too much, and it never should have been my load to carry.

I can see that so clearly now.

Letting go of all that responsibility hasn't been easy, and some days I'm still not sure what to do with myself.

“Ready?” Cal asks from beside me.

I blink and realize he’s already out of the truck and standing next to me, holding my door open, the sharp January air already stinging my cheeks.

I take one more look at the neatly shoveled drive and blow out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I think so,” I say. “It’s different now.”

“Of course it is.” Cal holds out his hand for me. “And that’s a good thing.”

He’s not wrong. It is a good thing.

I let him help me down and together we walk up to the house that no longer feels like home.

Truthfully, it never did. Not the way the cabin on the mountain does.

Snow blankets the yard, covering most of the imperfections that used to make this place look so tired and run down. The old truck is long gone now, the broken couch taken to the dump. Even the siding looks fresher, but I know that’s probably my imagination.

Dad is waiting for us inside, sitting in his favorite chair when we come through the front door. He has a blanket over his lap, his cane propped beside his chair, and a hockey game on the TV.

He still limps. He still lives with pain. And he definitely still complains.

But he’s taking his medication properly now, eating real meals, drinking less beer, and spending a lot more time living than simply hiding from the world in his dark bedroom.

All thanks to Sandra, the home health nurse Cal and I hired for him. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that she’s been a miracle worker. I still don’t understand how she’s been able to get him to take his pills every day and eat without complaint. Let alone engage with the world the way he does.

Cal is pretty sure it has a lot to do with how she smiles at him and flirts enough to keep him engaged.

Whatever it is, I’ll take it.

“Well,” he grumbles. “About damn time you showed up.”

I laugh and lean down to kiss his cheek. He’s still an old grump, at least that hasn’t changed.

“Nice to see you, too.”

His eyes immediately move to Cal.

“You’re still hanging around, I see.”

Cal doesn’t miss a beat. “Still trying to get rid of me?”

Dad snorts, and I laugh at their repertoire. Cal and I were married three months ago. He’s not going anywhere, and we all know it.

A second truck rumbles outside, and a few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door before Bryson walks in. He’s still wearing his sawmill coveralls under his winter coat.

Beck has connections at the mill, and after Bryson cooperated fully with the authorities, he called in some favors and got my brother a job.

It was his last chance, and to my surprise, he took it.

Six months ago, I wasn’t sure my brother would even be able to stay out of jail, let alone hold down a job, but here he is, gainfully employed, and not only that, by all accounts, he’s actually doing well.

“What?” he says as his eyes land on me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I shake my head and laugh. “I'm just proud of you, that’s all.”

He waves his hand and my compliment away. “Stop it.”

“I’m serious, Bryson. I really am.”

“We all are.” Cal wraps his arm around me and looks at my brother. It wasn’t long ago that I wasn’t sure they’d be able to exist in the same room without Cal wanting to rip Bryson apart for all the trouble he’d gotten me into. Things have changed.

But not only is my new husband a fierce protector, but it turns out he also has a very forgiving heart under that grumpy exterior.

The truth is, Bryson still has a lot of growing up left to do. But now that Ronnie Hatch is gone— he was charged with enough to put him away for a very long time—something seems to have clicked with my brother, and he does seem to be on a better path now.

The afternoon passes quickly. I fill everyone in on my decision to start up my own home care business. Now that looking after people isn’t something I have to do, I’ve discovered that I actually quite like it. And I’m good at it.

It’s still in the planning stages, and I’m not in a rush, but I feel it in my heart that it’s the right thing to do, and Cal, as always, is so supportive.

We eat lunch together and listen to Dad complain about the hockey game and his home care worker, whom we all know he’s sweet on.

It feels normal, and for the first time since before Mom died, we feel like family again.

By the time we head up the mountain, the snow is falling. Not much. Not enough to make the mountain roads impassable. Too bad, though.

Being snowed in together, just me and my mountain man, cozy together in the cabin, wouldn’t be too bad at all. With Murph, too, of course. He’s never far from our sides.

I rest my hand over my stomach, which is only just starting to swell, and Cal reaches over to put his hand on top of mine. I can’t wait to see what kind of guard dog Murph turns into once the baby arrives.

It’s hard to believe that this mountain was once some place I was hiding.

Now, it feels like home, and there’s no place I’d rather be to build our family together.

Ten Years Later…

Cal

“Dad!”

The shout comes from somewhere in the back half of the cabin, in the expansion we put on years ago, followed immediately by a loud crash.

A second later, another voice.

“I did not!”

“He started it.”

Even from out in my workshop, I can hear the voices loud and clear.

I shake my head, but don’t bother hiding the smile that crosses my face. There was a time in my life when I thought peace and quiet were the most valuable things a man could have.

Now, I know better.

It’s the chaos and craziness of having a full house that fills me now. And it’s a good thing, too. Because we sure have a lot of it around here.

A few moments later, our two oldest kids come flying into the shop, their younger sister on their heels. I have enough time to set down my wrench and force the smile off my face, faking a stern, I mean business, expression instead.

“Dad!”

“It’s her fault!”

I clean my hands on a rag and look at my son and daughter in turn, marveling at how all four of our children managed to get Willow's feistiness and sheer stubbornness. Although the baby is still too young for us to see the full extent of it. Yet.

It makes parenting…interesting.

“Slow down,” I say, careful not to take sides. I know better. “Is anyone bleeding?”

All three of them exchange glances.

“Dad!”

“What?”

“Nobody’s bleeding,” Ben, our eight-year-old, says with a groan.

“Good. Then I’m sure you’ll all survive.” I bend to scoop Emily, our four-year-old, into my arms and ruffle her red hair until she giggles.

“But, Dad!” Jessie, our oldest, is also the most stubborn and the least likely to let anyone get away with any perceived infraction. “He made a face at me.”

“Oh?” I pretend to look shocked for a moment as I turn around. “Was it anything like this?”

When I turn back to face them, I have my tongue out and my eyes crossed, and all three of them burst into a fit of giggles.

Satisfied that the situation is resolved, I sent them all back outside with a warning to stay out of trouble.

I know they won’t.

But that’s a big part of what keeps life on the mountain so interesting. I’ve only just picked up my wrench to turn my attention back to the engine I’ve been working on, when I hear another voice.

“Knock knock.” I look up to see Lilly standing in the door. “I thought I’d find you in here.”

“The baby’s sleeping,” I tell her. “Willow left about an hour ago, and I was hoping to get this engine done before…well, before.”

She laughs. “Perfect timing then.”

We’ve had a lot of changes in the last decade, that’s for sure. The garage that was once more of a hobby than anything else has become a full-fledged business. We have a dedicated shop in town, along with two full-time employees. But I still prefer to spend my time working on trucks and cars right here on the mountain.

Especially since it means I can be here with the kids when Willow has a client to see.

Her clients are important to her. That’s how she’s managed to grow her home care business the way she has. Because she cares about others so much.

Behind all her sass and fiery attitude, she’s got a heart of gold with a very soft center. It also makes her an amazing mother. And a fabulous wife.

A wife I’m dying to go see.

“The kids all ready?” Lilly asks.

As if they can sense her, the three oldest come charging into the shop. “Auntie Lilly!”

They run straight into her arms, and Lilly starts to laugh as they all start talking at once.

Once more, I wipe my hands on a rag as I cross the floor to them. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Of course.” Lilly doesn’t hesitate. “We’re going to have fun, aren’t we, kids?”

They all start shrieking and laughing. I can only shake my head. I know how crazy it can get when we watch Luke and Lilly’s kids, or any of the other kids on the mountain. And since we’ve all at least four, to say it gets crazy is an understatement.

“I got this,” Lilly tells me, and I believe her. “I’ll bring them back in the morning. Now go get me the baby so we can get going. Everyone’s waiting.”

Less than two hours later, the kids have been safely sent to Luke and Lilly’s place, I’m showered and sitting at the bar in the Rusty Nail, nursing a glass of whiskey.

Sometimes, I can barely remember the man who used to sit in this exact same spot, drinking the exact type of whiskey, feeling sorry for himself. That man is long gone, and it’s all because of…

There she is now.

When the door opens, and Willow sets foot into the bar, it’s like time stands still. She’s still every bit as gorgeous as the day I met her.

Her beautiful red hair falls over one shoulder, and she’s wearing the green dress I casually mentioned was my favorite a few weeks ago. I’m not surprised she remembers. Willow notices everything. Especially when it comes to the people she loves.

And I’m lucky enough to be one of those people. A fact I never take for granted.

It’s only been a few hours since I’ve seen her, but still, something deep inside me settles as her gaze lands on me, and a slow smile spreads across her face.

I stand before she reaches me.

“Look at you,” she says with a wink.

“Look at me, what?”

“All cleaned up.” She raises a brow. “Not a speck of grease in sight.”

“Darling, it’s our anniversary.” I give her a spin. “I even put on the clean jeans for you.”

She laughs, and I take her hand so I can lead her to the back of the room and the dart board.

The Rusty Nail has cleaned up over the years and is hardly recognizable as the dingy place it once was. Now, there’s actually some sunlight streaming through the windows, the floors have been scrubbed, and they serve the best cheeseburger around. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s finally a place where you don’t need to worry about a game of darts determining your future.

Except tonight.

“Happy meet-a-versary, darling.” I pour Willow a glass of wine from the bottle I have waiting for us and hand it to her before pouring one for myself. “It’s been ten years since you walked through those doors and changed everything.”

“For the better, obviously.” She raises a brow.

“Obviously.”

We clink glasses. “Are you ready for this?”

“I think the question is, are you ready?” She gives me a sassy smile and sets down her glass, exchanging it for the handful of darts that wait for us, just like they do every anniversary. “The stakes are pretty high this year.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh yeah.” She swings her hips as she takes her position and turns to look over her shoulder. “Closest to the bullseye, gets anything they want tonight.”

Fuck. Me.

My cock is instantly hard.

I will never stop wanting my wife.

I walk up behind her and slide my hands around her waist, pulling her back against my chest for a second.

“Careful, darling.”

“Why?”

I lower my mouth beside her ear.

“Because if you’re offering me anything I want, there’s a very good chance we won’t be making it home before I collect.”

Her laugh is soft and warm and entirely too pleased with itself.

Then she turns in my arms, presses a quick kiss to my mouth, and hands me a dart.

“Guess you’d better aim carefully then, mountain man.”

Best. Anniversary. Ever.

And it’s only getting started.

Take a ride home with Cal and Willow and find out who won the game. Read all about it in an exclusive bonus scene you can get HERE.

Loved Cal and Willow?

Be sure you’ve caught up with all the Mountain Grumps. Start at the beginning with

Mountain Grump Secret

READ FREE IN KU NOW!

And next…get ready to meet Sawyer. He’s stayed away from the mountain longer than the others.

Forced to return, he may just be the grumpiest mountain man yet.

Find out in Mountain Grump Soldier.

She was hired to put him back together. She started by running him over.

Bonus Scene

IN THE TRUCK…

Willow

We don’t make it home.

He knew we wouldn’t. But then again, neither did I.

I chose this dress for a reason. The one he mentioned over a week ago was his favorite, in that gruff, off-hand way of his that means as much as he likes it, he’d like it even better on the floor.

Halfway up the mountain, there’s a pullout where the trees open up, and the whole valley spills out below. We usually drive right past it, but tonight I have other plans.

My hand slides up Cal’s thigh. Rough on his clean, new jeans that he wore for me. For us and this special night that we celebrate every single year without fail.

At first, our friends thought we were crazy for wanting to recognize such a dark time when Ronnie Hatch tried to…well, when he tried to ruin me. But the truth is, why wouldn’t we celebrate it?

After all, it was because of those very specific set of circumstances that my mountain grump protector stepped in and saved me. Although he still insists that I’m the one who saved him.

Either way, this whole crazy, amazing life we share together is because of that dart game, no matter how messed up it was, and Cal winning it.

Which is why I let him win tonight.

I always let him win.

Because when he wins, I win.

When my hand reaches the hard bulge between Cal’s legs, and I squeeze, he hisses in a breath, and as I planned, he pulls off the road where we can look out on the valley below and the stars that are just starting to pop against the late summer night sky.

“Cal Reeves.” I’m grinning. “We are five minutes from home.”

“That’s five minutes, too fucking far,” he growls and cuts the engine, turning to face me. “Besides, I won the game, and I told you we weren’t going to make it home, darling.”

“So impatient.” But I’m already unbuckled and climbing across the bench seat, my hands reaching for his zipper as he pushes the seat back as far as it goes.

“I’m not the only impatient one,” he hisses as my hand reaches into his pants and wraps around his hard cock, setting it free from the denim. “Dammit, woman.”

“Mmm.” I stroke the length of him and lick my lips in anticipation. “What were you saying about patience?”

His hand reaches for me, gripping my hip and pulling me across the space, so I’m straddling his lap. I release his dick long enough to lift my skirt as I settle against him.

“Fuck.” The word is little more than a growl. “Where are your panties?”

I shrug and flip my hair back over my shoulder, thrusting my tits out. “They just get in the way.”

“No arguments here.” He grips my hips and pulls me down hard against him. The groan that slips from my lips is pure desire. “You’re so wet for me.”

“Always.”

It’s true.

Even after four kids and ten years, there’s never a moment that goes by where I don’t want my husband with a desperation that borders on insanity. I hope it never changes.

“So…” I lean in and kiss his neck. “Anything you want, huh?” I nip and bite my way down to the collar of his shirt. “After all, you won fair and square.”

“What I want is my wife.” His grip tightens, his cock rubbing over my clit, stoking the fire within me. “Right here in my truck, on my mountain where the whole valley can hear her scream when I make her come.”

I don’t bother trying to hold back my groan.

“You like that idea, darling?” He grinds me harder against him until my juices are dripping down my legs. I’m so ready for him to be inside me. “You like the idea of the whole valley hearing you scream for me?”

“Yes.” I lift myself, ready to take what I want, but he stops me.

“Yes, what?” His eyes flash as he turns the tables on me. “Tell me what you want, Willow.”

I drop my head back, the need inside me coiled so tight, I’m afraid I might burst. “Yes.” I give in. “I want the whole valley to hear me scream when you make me come.”

“Fuck yes you do.” He thrusts deep inside me. I gasp at his size, filling me so completely, it still takes my breath away.

His hands tug at my dress, pulling it down to expose my tits as he starts moving inside me, giving me no time to recover from the impaling. His thumbs drag roughly over my nipples until I gasp. “Yes,” he groans, before pulling the first one into his mouth and then turning his attention to the other. “This is exactly what I want. My wife coming apart for me. Just like this.”

Easily, he pulls the sensations from me, and I ride his cock, using the force of his thrusts, to press into my clit until I’m sure I’m about to explode.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful when you’re about to lose control.”

My head falls back, and one big hand comes up to lightly hold me there as he continues to relentlessly fuck me. “That’s it, darling.” His voice is raw. “Scream for me. Scream as you come all over my cock.”

And then I do. Because there’s nothing else I can do.

My release is wild, loud, and intense, like they all are. I scream out his name, rattling the windows of the truck and no doubt scaring away any wildlife within miles as I take my release.

He’s right behind me, chasing my orgasm with one of his own. His cock pulses and twitches, filling me with his hot seed until we’re both spent, and I collapse in his arms, my head resting on his shoulder. He’s holding me so tight, I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, in time with my own.

“Congratulations on your win, Mr. Reeves.” My lips twitch up into a satisfied grin. “How many years in a row is that now?”

He sits me up so he can look in my eyes. I see the flash of mischief there, and I know he knows my secret. I’m not nearly as bad at darts as I like him to believe. But I also know he’ll never call me on it. We both like our anniversary tradition.

Cal strokes the side of my cheek with his thumb and holds my face still. “Willow, I’m a winner every single day as long as I have you.”

Up next…get ready to meet Sawyer. He’s stayed away from the mountain longer than the others.

Forced to return, he may just be the grumpiest mountain man yet.

Find out in Mountain Grump Soldier.

She was hired to put him back together. She started by running him over.

Read the Rock Creek Series

Read all the Mountain Man Grumps HERE

Read more Rock Creek Ranch Cowboys HERE

Read the Rock Creek Mountain Men HERE

About the Author

Lena Rae is the secret spicy pen name of a USA Today Bestselling romance author.

She delivers sizzling hot, Instalove romances with strong alpha heroes who know what they want and don't waste any time going after it.

Writing from her mountain home Lena draws inspiration from her rugged surroundings to create stories with the perfect mix of heat, heart and happy ever afters.

www.authorlenarae.com