3. Sadie
SADIE
A fter a hot shower and de-tangling my hair, I’m feeling a little more in control. My ankle is sore and extremely tender, but at least I don’t look like a disheveled woodland monster anymore.
I quickly dry myself off and throw my freshly-washed hair up into a bun before hobbling my way to the door.
I crack it open slightly and grab the clothes my rescuer left for me to change into, unfolding a massive navy blue sweatshirt that will look like a dress on me.
The matching pair of sweatpants is equally as gigantic.
I suppose that makes sense–the mountain man who saved me is a towering Roman god of a man with muscles for days.
My cheeks heat at the memory of him carrying me through the forest. I could feel his strength, the tendons in his arms, the hardened muscles of his abs tightening and flexing against my bare flesh with each step.
Get it together! I yell internally. I’m in a precarious enough situation as it is; no need to complicate things further by catching feelings.
Besides, I can’t imagine he has the same attraction to me.
Why would he? I’m probably over a decade younger than him, chubby by all accounts, and I never know when to shut up.
I can’t help my rambling, but it has to drive the man mad.
He’s barely spoken more than a few sentences and grunted responses, which tells me he’s not used to my brand of chaos.
I pull on the sweatshirt and sweatpants, secretly loving the earthy, pine, and peppermint scent that I know belongs to their owner. The loose fabric almost makes me feel dainty, which I don’t think I’ve ever experienced.
When I’ve stalled as long as I can, I take a fortifying breath and limp down the hallway toward the living room. I’m not sure what to expect, but I put on my most convincing smile and dial up the charm, hoping to talk my way out of this sticky situation.
I can’t exactly tell the property owner I was here scouting out his land without his permission, but I still need his help getting back to town.
Once the dust has settled, I’ll mail his clothes back, along with a thank-you note, and that will be that.
Or, maybe I’ll keep his clothes forever and smell them every so often like a stalker ex-girlfriend to remind myself of the sexy mountain man who carried me through the woods.
Peering into the living room, I see the man himself pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. I make a note of the gorgeous red-brick fireplace with a live-edge oak mantle. That’s a huge selling point, especially considering how well-maintained it is. Everything in this cabin is pristine.
“Sit,” the man barks out, startling me from my thoughts. I snap my head in his direction, taken aback by the intensity in his deep blue eyes.
Coupled with dark hair, sharp features, a trimmed beard, and intricate tattoos crawling up his arms, the man is lethal.
I don’t think he intends to come across so harshly.
His tone isn’t mean or impatient, it’s more…
unpracticed. Like he hasn’t held a conversation with another living soul in a long time.
I make my way further into the living room, but am quickly joined by my rescuer.
He loops an arm around my waist and half-carries me over to the couch.
Being this close to him again has my skin prickling with awareness.
A dull, throbbing ache blooms between my thighs, and my nipples tighten beneath the baggy sweatshirt I’m wearing.
Get ahold of yourself, Sadie! Yes, he’s the sexiest man ever to grace the planet, but you’re here under false pretenses, and he’s a million miles out of your league.
Despite the running monologue in my brain, my body is becoming increasingly wound up.
I’m thankful when we reach the couch and he guides me to sit down with my legs stretched out on the cushions.
At least when he’s not touching me, I’m not as tempted to do something stupid like run my hands over his chest and abs and ask if he has more tattoos under his shirt.
“Lift,” he instructs, pointing at my foot. I do as he says, watching as he tucks a pillow under my sore ankle. The man carefully places an ice pack wrapped in a dish towel over my swollen joint, and I wince at the contact. He grunts and looks over at me, his brow furrowed. “Hurts?”
Even though a sharp pain is shooting up my leg, I manage to grin at his monosyllabic growls. I meant what I told him earlier - I think he’s kind of adorable.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Really, this is too much. I’ll just rest up for half an hour, an hour tops, then I can wrap up my ankle if you have the supplies and be out of your way.
” When he doesn’t respond or even blink an eye, I do what I do best: ramble.
“You’re probably itching to have me out of your space.
I see you’re a pretty private person. I get that.
If I lived all the way up here, surrounded by nature, with a perfect view of the sunset from the west-facing porch, I’d keep this place all to myself, too. ”
Guilt stabs my already confused and fragile heart.
I’ve spent less than an hour in this man’s presence and even less time in his home, but I know he’s not interested in selling.
He’ll never leave this land. It was a fool’s errand to try to convince him otherwise, which sounds about right. My boss loves making me look foolish.
“Why were you on my property?” he asks instead of addressing anything I said.
I was expecting this question, but I’m still nervous about giving him my prepared response. “I got lost,” I admit, rolling my eyes at myself.
It’s not a total lie, it’s just not the whole truth. Still, being dishonest sits in my stomach like a rock. I don’t like deceiving anyone, let alone the person who saved me from a potentially fatal situation.
He’s mulling over my response, those sapphire eyes locked on mine as he digs his way down into my very soul. I can tell he’s about to ask more questions, so I cut him off before he can pick apart my excuse any further.
“I’m Sadie, by the way,” I announce, holding my hand out for him to shake. The enormous man stares at my hand, then back at my face. “This is the part where you take my hand and move it up and down in the customary greeting most people use when introducing themselves,” I whisper.
He narrows his eyes at me, scrutinizing everything from my facial features to my outstretched hand. When he makes no motion to reciprocate, I forge ahead.
“Are you like Rumpelstiltskin? Do I have to guess your name?” I swear his upper lip twitches in the barest hint of amusement. “Can we at least play Wheel of Fortune rules? I’d like to buy a vowel, please!”
This time, the corner of his lips pull into a reluctant smirk, but I can tell he’s fighting it every step of the way. I hope to see his real, unfiltered smile sometime.
“Cutter,” the man says, though he doesn’t shake my hand.
“That’s not a vowel,” I point out. He lifts a thick eyebrow at me, and god.
Swoon. How is even that small motion the sexiest thing ever?
“Anyway, Cutter. Thank you for not letting me plunge to my death back there. And thank you for the chance to clean up before heading back home. Like I said, I’m sure I’ll be all good in an hour. ”
“No.”
“No? Are you kidnapping me?”
“What? No. No, I…”
“Kidding,” I tell him with my hands up in a sign of surrender.
The panic in his features strangely settles something in the pit of my stomach.
He’s not only not kidnapping me, but he seems horrified at the accusation.
Like he never wants me to fear him. “If you wanted to do me harm, you would have left me in the woods.”
“I’d never harm you.” His deep blue eyes pierce right through me, refusing to let me go. Cutter is possibly the most intense person I’ve ever met.
“I believe you,” I whisper.
He grunts in approval, making me grin once more.
This man is fiercely protective, adorably awkward, and unfathomably hot.
More than that, I can see the weight of guilt and loneliness he carries around with him like a lead weight.
I’m not sure what drove him into a solitary existence in the mountains, but something tells me Cutter is resigned to a life of penance.
It’s insane and intense, but I wish I knew his secrets so I could tell him he doesn’t have to be alone anymore. Whatever he did in the past doesn’t have to define his future. I understand the need for a fresh start more than most, but it doesn’t have to be so incredibly lonely.
“Good,” he says, nodding his head once. “It’s settled.” Cutter turns on his heel and stomps toward a hallway closet, coming back a moment later with blankets and more pillows.
“Um, what’s settled? I talked about leaving, and here you are with more blankets.”
“You’re staying.”
“I couldn’t–”
“Do you know your way back to town?” he asks. I shake my head no. “Do you have proper shoes to help you make the trek down the mountain?” Again, I shake my head no. “Do you have a flashlight or lantern to light your path now that the daylight is almost gone?”
I sigh heavily, knowing when I’ve been defeated. “Fine. One night.”
“One night,” he confirms.
I hold out my hand for him to shake, and this time, he does. “It’s a deal, then. Thanks for the extra blankets, I’ll snuggle up here and then I’ll be gone in the morning.”
For some reason, my chest grows tight at the thought of leaving him. Ridiculous, I know. It’s not like I can stay here forever and study the nuance behind each one of his grunts and growls.
“Take the bed,” Cutter commands as he sets the bedding on the coffee table next to the couch.
“No, thank you. I’m fine here,” I tell him with a saccharine smile.
“Bed.”
“Couch,” I grunt, attempting to match his deep, gravelly tone.
“Sadie…” He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at me.
“Cutter…”
The man heaves out a frustrated breath and runs a hand through his hair. I try really hard not to ogle the muscles flexing in his arm as he tugs at the strands, but I’m only so strong.
“Take the bed…. Please?” He chokes out the last word as if it’s physically painful for him to say.
“While I appreciate the manners, I have to insist on staying on the couch. For starters, I’m already here.
Possession is nine-tenths of the law, right?
Furthermore, I’m the unexpected house guest, so I can’t steal your bed from you, too.
Also, this is sure to be the comfiest couch I’ve ever slept on, so really, you’re giving me a luxurious experience already. ”
I tip my chin up and smile brightly at the grumpy mountain man, completely satisfied with my arguments. He furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something, only to close it again and frown.
“Fine,” he relents. Cutter mumbles something about how he crumbled too easily, but I’m sure he didn’t mean for me to hear it. I smirk in victory all the same.
I’m not expecting him to spread out the blankets over me or fluff my pillow, which confirms my earlier hypothesis: Cutter isn’t a mean, growly loner like he wants to portray. He’s a good man, a kind man, and even a gentle man, at least with me. I wonder, not for the first time, what his story is.
“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely once he’s satisfied with the three blankets tucked around me. “No one’s ever…” I trail off, not sure what I was going to say. No one has ever cared this much? No one has ever made me feel this safe in such a short period of time?
“Get some rest,” he says, his tone lower, a bit softer than before.
I nod, and he turns around, giving me his back. I can’t help but appreciate the corded muscles in his back and shoulders, stretching the fabric of his tight T-shirt with every step.
Closing my eyes, I snuggle further into the couch and pull the blankets up to my chin. This is certainly not how I thought my day would end.