2. Cutter #2
We fit . The thought pops into my brain without my permission, and I tamp it down quickly.
This isn’t about bringing her home and making her mine.
She just needs a place to rest and recover, then I’ll give her a ride into town.
I have no idea where she came from, but Hope Mountain has all the amenities she’ll need.
“So, thanks again,” she starts. “Seriously. I was preparing to fight off a wolf or something. Actually, more likely a bear, right? I read somewhere that the wolf population in Colorado died out fifty years ago. So sad to think about. I always wanted a wolf as a pet when I was growing up. I know that’s not super PETA-friendly or whatever, but it made sense when I was six. A wolf could fight off anyone.”
She ends her ramble, and I nod once. I want to ask who the fuck she had to fight off at six years old, but I don’t. If I ask about her story, she’ll ask about mine, and I’m not ready to discuss my past right now, possibly ever.
She looks around, humming softly to herself. I can tell she’s about to jump into another rant, and strangely, I don’t mind. In fact, I’m curious to know what she’s thinking. I get the sense she talks when she’s nervous. If chattering away helps ease her anxiety, the least I can do is listen.
“Did you know Colorado has four national parks? It’s pretty impressive, if you ask me.
Sure, California tops the list with nine parks, but four isn’t too shabby considering twenty states don’t have any national parks.
I never did much traveling until recently, but I follow a bunch of travel bloggers and influencers so I can live vicariously through them.
Lush forests and floral landscapes have always been my favorite since I grew up in the desert.
I still can’t believe I live in one of the most beautiful places in the country now. ”
I nod again. I agree, this is one of, if not the most gorgeous scenery the world has to offer. At least in my opinion.
“You should talk now. I’ve been rambling.”
“Moose is the plural of moose,” I say for some stupid reason.
I glance down at her briefly, amused at the twinkle in her eyes and the grin pulling at her lips.
“Like sheep is the plural of sheep?”
I nod.
“Huh. I learned something new today.”
The curvy, mysterious trespasser snuggles deeper into my arms like she’s completely satisfied with her journey, so long as it ends with learning a new fact.
She’s so curious about the world around her, like everything is fresh.
I can’t remember the last time I felt the freedom and innocence she so clearly carries with her.
“You’re kind of adorable,” she says, shocking the hell out of me.
“Am not,” I grunt.
“Mmm… Agree to disagree, Mr. Mountain Man Moose Wrangler.”
Dammit if my lip doesn’t twitch in the hint of a smirk. She’s the adorable one, and I don’t know what to do about it.
My cabin comes into view, and I make it to the porch steps in four long strides. Carrying the beautiful woman inside, I head straight to the bathroom and deposit her on the counter next to the sink.
I grab a towel and hand it to her so she can cover up.
I don’t want her to feel more vulnerable than she already is.
She was stranded in the woods, and a strange man scooped her up and brought her back to his remote cabin.
She’s in nothing but a bra and skirt, and I don’t want her worrying about me being a perv.
Focusing on her ankle, I squat down to get a better look.
It’s red and already starting to bruise, making my stomach twist in a knot.
For some reason, I can’t stand the thought of this woman in pain.
Not that I take pleasure in other people experiencing pain, but this is different.
Like I’m obsessed with protecting every hair on her head.
A possessiveness sweeps through me, so forceful it takes the breath from my lungs. Someone else could have found her. Someone with sinister intentions. She could have been ripped apart by wild animals or starved to death. The more I think about the possibilities, the harder it is to breathe.
“It’s not broken,” she says, cutting into my intrusive thoughts. “It doesn’t feel sprained, either. Probably just a nasty bruise,” she declares with a nod. “I’ve had worse.”
My gaze snaps up to hers, but she darts her eyes away. A blush rises in her cheeks, and she clears her throat. For someone so willing and eager to talk, she doesn’t have any follow-up for her troubling confession.
“Worse?” I choke.
She shrugs. “Ice and Aspirin will fix me right up, and then I’ll be out of your hair, I promise.”
I grunt, unable to form words at the moment. I don’t think I like the idea of her leaving any more than I like her being in pain. What the fuck is that about?
“I’ll get an ice pack ready,” I inform her when I find my voice. “You can clean up in the shower. I’ll leave clothes outside the door for you to change into.”
I stand and start backing away from the siren and her intoxicating mix of sweetness, sassiness, and unmistakable sadness, though I know she’d fight me on that last one. Holding out my hand, I help her off the counter and then lean over and turn the water on in the shower for her.
She looks up at me with a towel wrapped around her nearly naked torso, the dirt on her cheeks reminding me of the rough day she’s had. This beautiful woman doesn’t need me ogling her or making her any more uncomfortable than she already is.
With a final nod, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door and leaning against it.
The cool wood pressed against my back calms me down a bit, but my thoughts are still racing.
I don’t even know her name, but she’s already starting to shift things around inside my chest, making room for herself without even trying.
God fucking help me for whatever comes next.