Taming the Wild Mountain Man (Mountainmances #2)

Chapter 2

2

Hume

The dizzying nausea hits me again as I wander up and down the street, searching for Chewy, and the ringing in my ears gets louder and louder. It's painful, but it'll pass. It always does.

After a few minutes, Chewy totters out of the bushes a couple of houses over.

"There you are!" I barely hear myself, the words muffled, sounding like they're coming through a wall. Relieved my dog is safe, I take her back home and settle in for the night, hoping the sensation will pass. It's been occurring, on and off, for the past few months—sudden episodes of severe dizziness accompanied by hearing loss, my ears feeling like they're about to burst, and there’s a loud ringing sound.

It happened on the day my new neighbor moved in. I was out doing some gardening, trying to push through another dizzy spell when I saw her waving to me. I figured she may have shouted something over the fence, but I couldn't be sure since I didn't hear it. A wave of nausea hit me right at that very moment, so I said nothing in response and hastily retreated inside. Not exactly the ideal first impression.

And it's happening again now. My vision has suddenly gone all wonky as everything around me starts to spin. I grip the trunk of a sturdy Douglas fir to stay upright. It'll pass , I remind myself. I just need to breathe through it, so I suck in some big gulps of fresh mountain air.

I've been scared a few times in my life—realizing the intel supplied by local allies was a potentially deadly setup, struggling to breathe as an oxygen tank malfunctioned while shooting a complicated underwater scene for a big budget action movie, and of course, the thing that left the biggest scar of all: being a powerless child, witnessing my mother bear the brunt of my father's drunken rage.

This is different, but it's up there, and I'm starting to get worried. Something is not right with my body, and as much as I'm ignoring it and trying to act like it doesn't exist, it's not going away. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to deal with it. Most likely, later.

"You okay, Hume?" Brock, the newest volunteer on the Cedar Crest Hollow Search and Rescue Team comes up behind me.

"Yeah. Fine." I push off the tree, glad the dizzy spell is passing, and resume walking to where we've set up our gear to do some high-angle rope rescue training. My days in the SEALs and as a Hollywood stuntman are well and truly behind me. This is how I get my adrenaline fix now.

"Are you sure?"

"I am."

"Okay." He doesn't sound convinced as he walks in step beside me. "Because if I'm going to make fun of you for peeving off your new neighbor, I want to make sure you're at full strength."

"Wait." I stop walking. "How do you know I have a new neighbor?"

He grins, and it's the type of grin that belongs to a man who's recently fallen in love. And also inherited fifty million bucks while welcoming his first child into the world. The guy is flying high, and it shows. I'm happy for him. He's a good man who deserves all the happiness in the world. "Is her name Tenley, by any chance?" he prods.

I shrug. "Wouldn't know. She's been living next door to me for a month, but we haven't gotten as far as exchanging names yet."

His grin widens. "Yeah. Heard you made a pretty bad first impression."

I stop walking. "How do you know about that?"

"Because your new neighbor is Schapelle's sister."

"Your Schapelle's?"

"Yeah." He nods, beaming. " My Schapelle's."

The hint of possessiveness in his voice sets off a twinge in my chest. In all my fifty-two years, I've never been a settle-down kind of guy. Guess love just isn't in the cards for some people, and I happen to be one of them. But seeing someone so in love that it's radiating off of him makes a small part of me wonder what it might be like to have that. A woman to love, support, and cherish. Someone to come home to at the end of the day. Maybe even start a family with. But I've left all that a little too late, haven't I?

"Tenley," I repeat her name, testing it out on my tongue. "I like it. It's…unique."

"She's also a twin."

"You mean…?"

"Yep. She and Schapelle are twins. Identical twins."

My mind drifts back to the last time I saw her, a few days ago at the fence line. I saw that she'd dropped a box, so I offered to help. She promptly knocked me back. I couldn’t figure out why she disliked me, so I did the only thing I could do—I took in her exceptional beauty. She's got long, silky brown hair down to her waist, modelesque cheekbones, and striking blue eyes. Not to mention a great figure.

"She's gorgeous," I say and immediately shoot Brock an apologetic look. "I mean, Tenley is. Although, since she's an identical twin, I guess that does apply to Schapelle as well. Not that I would ever look at your woman like that." I finally shut up and exhale with a shake of my head. "Sorry, man."

Brock laughs and claps me on the back. "It's all good. I know what you meant." His lips quirk. "And in case you're wondering, she's single."

"Now what makes you think I'd want to know that?"

"No reason."

Oh, there's a reason. "Tell me."

"Well, when I talked to Tenley at Schapelle's surprise, belated thirtieth party two weekends ago, let's just say she had a strong reaction when your name came up."

I drop my head. "Oh."

I spotted her at the party, too, but whenever our paths would get closer and look like they might cross, a few seconds later she'd be gone, vanishing into thin air, making me question whether in addition to my ears conking out on me, my vision might be as well.

I know I didn't make a good first impression the first day we met, so I can't blame her for having a strong reaction. I messed up, so I wrote her an apology note the next day and left it on her front porch before I took off for work. I also offered to help her out with any stuff that needs fixing. That house has been vacant the entire time I've lived there, so it's fallen into disrepair.

And what did I get in return? A big load of nothing.

She's never acknowledged the note. And even when she could clearly use some help, like when her box broke in her front lawn, she refuses. Guess I've really screwed up.

Brock and I reach the other guys. Fenton, Jed, and Beau are hammering anchor points into the rock face, testing each one with a firm tug, while Drew and Shannon are getting into their harnesses. Knox, our trusty team leader, is double-checking all the knots in the pulley system.

"What exactly did Tenley say about me?" I ask, picking up two harnesses and tossing one to Brock.

My nausea from earlier is almost entirely gone. But my brain? My brain is still stuck on the woman I haven't been able to stop thinking about for the past thirty-four days since she moved in.

"I can't really remember."

"You're lying. Tell me. I'm a grown man. I can take it."

Brock loops his legs through the harness, then stops. "Okay. Well, she may have said something about you being the most frustrating man to ever live."

"Oh." My heart sinks. Not that I seriously thought I had any shot with her, but it stings having it confirmed.

"And she said something to Schapelle about you making enough noise to wake the entire neighborhood late at night."

"Oh." That part is true. The neighbor on my other side, Mrs. Kingsley, is eighty-nine and said she can't hear a thing, so I never stopped to think about my late-night furniture-making noise carrying to my other neighbor. I'll be sure to close the shed door from now on. "Did she say anything else?"

Brock tightens the straps on his harness. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Nothing. Forget it."

I finish strapping myself into my harness, but Brock doesn't forget it. In fact, he seems to enjoy not forgetting it. "You mean, like how handsome you are. For an old man."

My eyebrows shoot up. "She said that?"

Brock chuckles. "No. But why do I get the feeling you wish she had?"

"Shut up." I finish getting ready and nudge him with my shoulder. "Let me show you how fast this old man can climb these ropes."

I push past him to start the training exercise, needing an excuse to stop thinking about the intriguing beauty next door and the fact that based on what Brock just told me, my slim chance of possibly asking her out one day has now plummeted into never gonna happen territory.

After training and much later that night, I'm in my shed, working on a bed frame. Nothing fancy. It doesn't need to be. Just something sturdy that does the job. Joanne from the LA Women's Shelter called again last week. They're in dire need of more beds. I've been making furniture for them whenever they request it these past few years. I may not have been able to do anything to help my mother, but that doesn't mean I can't do something small to help other women in similar situations.

Chewy is snoring away next to me, unbothered by the noise I'm making. Oh, shoot. The noise. Tenley. Enough noise to wake the entire neighborhood late at night.

Remembering her complaint, I walk over to the shed door, but before closing it, I glance over at her house. All the lights are out. It's past midnight, so no surprise there. I've only been inside the place once, so I know the master bedroom is at the far end. Tenley's probably asleep.

I shut the shed door quietly. I haven't seen as much of her as I would have liked. Our schedules don't align. I'm out at the crack of dawn, and she doesn't get back until much later. She doesn't seem to be home much on the weekends, either.

Still, the few glimpses I've caught of her play like a montage reel in my head. That one time I was in my front yard when she pulled up from work, looking all sexy and sleek in her dark-green, well-fitted suit that hugged her figure in all the right places.

The time she jogged past me—ignoring me, naturally—as I was taking out the trash, her long hair tied into a ponytail, swishing rhythmically, her cheeks flushed slightly, and her skin glowing in a light-blue tank top and high-waisted burgundy leggings.

At Schapelle's party. Even though she managed to avoid me the entire time, she looked amazing, laughing and chatting away with the other guests.

She is hands down the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen, but it's the easy confidence she exudes that's really captivated me. I've encountered many beautiful women in Hollywood who know they're beautiful and act accordingly. Tenley isn't like them. She's real and natural, and here I am, going on again about a woman who can't even stand me and is actively going out of her way to avoid me.

Maybe it's for the best. Maybe I need to stop obsessing over her. She's got to be at least two decades younger than me, so that basically rules things out anyway. Why would a gorgeous, young, smart, and successful woman like Tenley be remotely interested in me when she can have her pick of any guy her age?

I pick up my hammer and continue nailing the slats into place a little harder than before, determined to keep thoughts of Tenley to a minimum. I'm old enough to face the simple truth that if it hasn't happened by now, love just isn't in the cards for me.