Protective (Mail Order Mountain Men #1)

Chapter Nine

Heather

The cabin at the ranch reminds me of an old-fashioned lodge with shiny log walls and pine floors. There’s even a stone fireplace with a split wood mantle that encapsulates a roaring fire. Thankfully, it’s electric, so starting it only required me to flip a switch. I’m also thankful for the fact that it’s only the vibe of this place that’s old-fashioned. The furnishings are modern and clean. Leathers and furs. Stainless steel and natural wood. Not to mention the whole place smells like Christmas on steroids. Pine and maybe cranberry. I’m terrible with scents, but I’m pretty sure that’s what it is. It reminds me of the airport in Denver. When I first flew in, the whole place smelled like a forest. I wonder if they pump it through the vents.

The wind is howling outside, snapping branches against the windowpane. I close the curtains and grab a snack from the basket that’s by the door. It’s a lot like the one that was in the cabin pod earlier, but this one is bigger and meant for two people. The woman at the front desk said this was to be Chevy’s and my cabin tomorrow, but considering the storm, I was welcome to check in early.

Apparently, there is some food in the pantry as well, but just a few things to get us started. The experiment requires us to do all the things a normal couple would do on a weekly basis. Part of that is grocery shopping, planning, and staying on budget.

That last part, I’m not so good at. I wonder if Chevy is. We never really got to that conversation, though I bet it was on the list of questions we were supposed to be asking.

My phone rings and I pick it up on the first ring. It’s Trish and I’m sure she’s worried sick by now.

“Hey.”

“Where are you? Have you seen this snow? It’s the worst I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m still at the cabin.” I bite back a grin as I ready myself for her barrage of questioning.

“What? Like the dating place?”

“Yeah. Bryan slashed my tires, and I got stuck here. This guy came to help me, but I was scared, and I didn’t want to get out of the car. Then I remembered I could probably call the ranch house and ask for help, and they sent someone out. Oh, and the hot guy with the gun, took Bryan to the police station.”

Silence ensues for a full ten seconds.

“What?”

“What, what?” I bite into a ruffled chip, crunching as quietly as I can.

“There’s a hot guy with a gun?”

“Yeah.” I crunch another bite. My brain is immediately thankful for the salty carbs. “It’s got me rethinking this whole thing with Chevy. I mean, I like him a lot. We actually,” I puff my cheeks and stop myself from telling Trish every detail, “had a lot of fun in our date earlier, but then this guy shows up at my car today, and sure, I was afraid of him, but I definitely noticed how hot he was. Biceps, triceps, strong shoulders, tall, wide, and sexy as fuck. I don’t know… maybe I’m not ready for a relationship yet.”

“Because you looked at another guy?”

“Yeah. That and I don’t know… this guy peeled into the parking lot, gun drawn like a fucking superhero. He was incredible.”

“Okay… did you get his number? Maybe that’s the universe putting you in the right place at the right time.”

I laugh. “No. This is the universe telling me to get a grip, take some time to myself, and—”

“Matching Halloween costumes, Christmas walks with cocoa, and a Thanksgiving away from the kids’ table. You want those things, and you can’t have them if you push everyone away forever.”

I draw in a deep breath and settle back on the sofa with a blanket and the booklet that was in the basket by the door. “I know, but something is wrong with me. I don’t want to be that girl. ”

“The girl who has a nice date with one guy and casually notices another man’s biceps? Heather, you’re being ridiculous. I notice every man’s biceps.”

“Well, you’re not the role model you think you are,” I say with a chuckle. “No offense.”

She laughs hard. “Wow. You’re going there?”

“Oh, I’m so going there. You’re doing this mail order thing next. You know that, right? You need a reality check.”

I can almost hear her eyes roll. “Sure. Let’s see you finish this thing first and then I’ll decide if it’s worth it.”

“Right,” I bite sarcastically. “Well, in the meantime, I’ll be down here in reality getting something set up for you.”

“Love you,” she laughs.

“Love you, too.” The line disconnects and I flip open the notebook and thumb through the pages, stopping when I see a full-page picture of myself with a bio beneath it. This must be the picture Trish gave them to set up my profile. They didn’t share the photo, but I assume it was required to match physical preferences.

It’s a horrible picture. I’d been out gardening all morning, and my hair was a sticky mess of sweat and dirt. I make a mental note to ask her what the hell she was thinking later. Right now, I have to find Chevy’s photo. If I’m in here, he has to be as well.

I flip the pages two at a time, frantically searching for his picture. It has to be here. There’s no way they make an entire welcome binder with all this random information about just me.

Maybe I’m an asshole for looking. I mean, he can’t see me until tomorrow morning… if the storm clears.

I close the notebook. I should wait. We should see each other the way the experiment is intended. The anticipation makes it that much better, right?

The fireplace crackles in front of me as I think over this notion. Not looking is the right decision. Besides, who cares what he looks like. He was a really great guy, and I felt more comfortable talking to him than I have anyone else ever. That’s what matters most.

Also, a second ago, I was canceling all of this and going on a journey of self-discovery, so it doesn’t matter, anyway. What I really need is a long vacation from all men, all decisions, and snow.

I stare toward the orange flames in the fire, tapping my nails against the binder slowly.

This is the right decision. I’m not going to look.

My chest squeezes and my stomach flutters. No one is here. No one would even know I looked. I could peek for two seconds and move on with my night, maybe even go back to the bedroom and create a hybrid version of a man that’s got Chevy’s personality and the man from the parking lot’s body. I’m pretty sure that guy could get me off pretty quickly.

Clit throbbing, I set the notebook back onto the couch and close my eyes in an attempt to slide into that fantasy, but my brain is stuck.

I need to open that binder. I need to search every single page until I see Chevy. I need to know exactly what this man looks like, and I need to know now!

Heart pounding, I flip the binder open, set it on my lap, and stare down at the very first page where a five by seven photo of a man with dark, kind eyes, gray hair, and a salt and pepper beard stares back at me. He’s wearing a cap with a tractor on the front, and his shoulders are broad and firm.

The room spins and my throat closes as a wave of cold air spills into the room. Why is a wave of cold air spilling into the room?

I turn back to see him in the doorway. The man that’s on the page. The man I saw earlier. The man that sounded like Chevy. The man that is Chevy.

My jaw slacks, and though I’m pretty sure I stood up, I might still be sitting. “You’re him.” I point to the notebook. “You’re the guy from earlier.”

Why is my chest tight? Why is my clit thumping? Why are my arms aching to reach out for him? Why do I want him to back me into the wall and take me over?

He steps toward me. “I’m sorry. The speaker hadn’t cut out when you listened to that voicemail from your ex, and I couldn’t leave it be. I had to follow you. So, when your tires were flat, I knew it was him.” He reaches his hand out for me. “I couldn’t leave you.”

My voice wobbles with emotion as I say, “So you knew it was me? Why didn’t you say something?”

He drags in a heavy breath and rests his rough hand on my arm, snagging the fabric slightly. “I like you so much, and I was… I got in my head about the age thing. I thought you saw me and were totally turned off, so I didn’t want to confirm it just yet.”

I stare up at the handsome man in front of me. He smells like cedar, and his frame is so big that he does what few men can do. He makes me feel small. “I… I think you’re like super-hot.” I didn’t mean to sound like a California valley girl, but that’s exactly what that sounded like.

We stand in place, and like a cheesy line in a romance movie, the world actually stands still. I no longer hear the fire crackle or the wind blow. Hell, even my inner voice has gone silent. The only recognizable feeling I’m currently having is warmth and desire.

Chevy stares down at me, his hand still on my face, his eyes locked with mine. “I don’t think I can control myself much longer.” He swallows hard. “The second I saw you in the car I wanted to pull you out and make you mine.”

“So do it,” I moan without regret, squeezing my thighs together to quell the ache of desperation. “Make me yours.”