3. Audrey
3
AUDREY
A whole torrent of emotions swirls around inside me as Weston carries me through the trees, his strong arms grasping me protectively to his chest. The main emotion is relief. It was pretty terrifying to watch the darkness thicken, and I was slowly losing hope that anybody would hear my cries. The cold had been creeping in, threatening to chill my bones, and if Weston hadn’t arrived when he did, I would have had to take my chances in the forest, seeking shelter or warmth in the trees. I hadn’t exactly been looking forward to it.
Relief and gratitude—those are what I feel most of all. Pain, too. My wrist and my knees still hurt, and the scratches all over me sting like crazy. But there’s another feeling too. It warms my veins, making my blood pump fast and hot as I melt against Weston’s broad chest. I’m glad it’s dark, so he can’t see the way my cheeks burn.
I can’t ignore the obvious…
My rescuer is insanely hot.
I’m talking volcano-eruption levels of hot.
When Weston came bursting through the trees, it took me a minute to process what I was seeing. A crazy, childish part of my brain thought he was some kind of fairy tale giant. He stands well over a foot taller than me, strong as an ox, with broad shoulders and thick muscles that I can feel pressing against me, hard as stone beneath his flannel shirt. A bushy beard takes up half his face, and a pair of warm brown eyes twinkle beneath his thick brows. His nose is long and straight, and deep frown lines crease his forehead. Everything about him screams raw, wild masculinity. He even smells manly—like pine and spice—and I breathe him in with a shiver.
But not only is my rescuer hot.
He’s also a bit of a grump.
I mean, seriously, it’s not like I asked for the ground to crumble beneath my feet.
Falling down a cliff wasn’t exactly on my to-do list this morning…
But it’s hard to be annoyed with the guy who just saved my life. And the way he picked me up when he realized I was in pain…dang, way to make a girl’s heart melt. My curves aren’t just for show. I’m a big girl. Heavy. But Weston’s even breathing doesn’t change at all during the walk to his cabin. He doesn’t even break a sweat.
“Here,” Weston says suddenly, nodding toward something up ahead.
I turn my head and spy a large log cabin through the trees, lit up by the full moon. It sits in a clearing, shrouded by thick pines, with a giant pickup truck parked out front. I can hear rushing water somewhere nearby, and an owl hoots to our left. There’s nothing but a rough dirt track leading away from the cabin, and I can’t help smiling to myself. This is exactly the kind of place I imagined a mountain man like Weston would live.
Definitely no Starbucks around here.
We reach the front door of the cabin, and Weston sets me down to open it. He ushers me inside, turning on the lights to reveal a cozy living room. The walls are made of honey-colored logs, and a giant stone fireplace takes up the far wall, so big I could easily stand up in it. Weston gestures to a worn leather armchair by the hearth, and I sit down, watching as he crouches to start a fire.
“Make yourself at home, okay?” he says, once the flames are roaring beside me. “I’ll go grab some cream for your cuts.”
He comes back a few minutes later with a bowl of water, some towels, an ice pack, and a bunch of other first-aid stuff. Then he grabs a wooden stool and sits in front of me, inspecting my scratches in the light. I can see him better now—the silvery strands in his beard, the flecks of gold in his eyes—he’s even sexier than I thought, and my breath catches as he takes my hand, washing it. His palms are calloused, but his touch is surprisingly gentle as he disinfects my cuts, sticking Band-Aids on the worst ones. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his gaze fixed on my hands, and I use it as an excuse to stare at him.
Crap, he really is the hottest man I’ve ever seen.
“You okay?” he asks once he’s finished patching up my hands and arms. “Not hurting too much?”
“No, it’s fine.” I watch as he reaches for the torn legs of my jeans, pulling them up and repeating the process of washing my injuries. “Thank you for doing all this, Weston.”
“No problem. Don’t want you getting any infections.”
My skin tingles beneath his touch. The cuts burn as he washes them, but I don’t care. It feels good to have his giant hands on me, taking care of me. Normally, the thought of a stranger running their hands over my skin would feel weird, but with Weston, it feels natural somehow, like my body knows him in a way my mind doesn’t yet.
“So what brings you out here anyway, Miss Denver?” he asks, making a start on my other leg.
His words hit me with a jolt.
Shoot! Lila. She must be so worried.
“I came to visit my best friend for a few days,” I say, reaching for my phone. “She has no idea where I am. Do you have Wi-Fi? Or is that a dumb question?”
Weston’s lips quirk slightly. “I have Wi-Fi. Need it for my business.”
He reels off the password, and my phone immediately pings with a million notifications, all from Lila.
“Damn, is that your friend?” Weston asks, raising an eyebrow at the noise. “You better call her. I’ll go make us some hot chocolate.”
I feel a rush of affection for him, and as he moves to stand up, I reach out and grab his hand. “Thank you, Weston. Seriously. For everything.”
Those brown eyes glint at me, and he nods. I hold his hand for a second too long before he turns around and heads through a door that I presume leads to the kitchen.
Lila immediately answers my FaceTime, her eyes wide. “Audrey! Oh my God, are you okay? I was about to call the police!”
“I’m okay,” I tell her. “Crap, I’m so sorry for scaring you.”
She listens as I explain what happened, her face turning white as she hears about the fall. But her expression eases slightly when I mention Weston.
“Thank God,” she says, letting out a deep breath. “I know Weston.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You do?”
Lila nods. “He owns the rental cabin where Ridge and I met.”
When my best friend came out to Cherry Mountain in January, the cabin she rented was double-booked, and she ended up staying with a stranger. That’s how she met Ridge.
“We bought him a bottle of whiskey,” Lila continues. “To say thank you. If it hadn’t been for the fault in his booking system, Ridge and I never would have met.”
“Wow. Small world.”
Lila chuckles. “More like small town. So, when will you be leaving Weston’s place?”
I swallow hard, listening to the sound of movement in the kitchen. I should be eager to get out of here so I can finally see Lila. That’s what this whole trip was about. But for some crazy reason, I’m reluctant to go.
“I’m not sure,” I say eventually. “He’s making us hot chocolate and patching me up. Maybe in like an hour? I’ll ask if he can drive me back to where I left my car.”
“Sounds good. I’m so glad you’re okay, Audrey.”
When Weston comes in with two steaming mugs, Lila and I wrap up the call, and I slip my phone back into my pocket.
“Everything okay now?” he asks, handing me a hot chocolate.
“Yeah, all good. Thank you.”
I take a sip, the drink warming me through. Weston takes a seat opposite me on an identical leather armchair, eyeing me over the rim of his mug. It looks bizarrely tiny in his giant hands.
“Apparently, you already know my friend Lila,” I tell him.
He frowns, uncomprehending. “Lila?”
“She rented one of your cabins a couple of months ago and ended up staying with a guy called Ridge?—”
Weston’s expression clears and he nods. “Right, right, I remember now. So she’s who you’re here to visit?”
“That’s right. It’s my first time visiting her since she moved out of the city.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Pretty eventful first visit, Miss Denver.”
I roll my eyes at the nickname, suppressing a smile. “You know, this is technically all your fault.”
Weston sets down his mug, cocking his head. “How’d you figure that?”
“Well, if your booking system had worked properly, then Lila would never have ended up in that cabin with Ridge; they never would have fallen in love; she wouldn’t have moved to Cherry Mountain; I wouldn’t have come out here to visit, and then I never would have fallen down that cliff…” I shrug my shoulders, shooting him a teasing smile. “Seems like you’re responsible for all of this.”
Weston’s lips quirk beneath his beard, eyes dancing in the firelight. “Well damn, I guess you’re right. Doing my best to make up for it, though.”
“Yes, you’ve been very generous.” I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to forgive you.”
“How about I make you a late dinner?” he asks. “Sounds like I really need to redeem myself here somehow.”
I beam at him, unable to keep a straight face. “A late dinner sounds nice.”
My pulse thrums as he smiles back at me, more with his eyes than his mouth. It transforms his grumpy face, making him look more handsome than ever. I know I should head to Lila’s, but I can’t resist spending a little more time with this gorgeous mountain man. Weston makes me feel safe. Protected. It’s something I’ve been missing after what happened back in the city last month…but out here, even after my near-death cliff experience, it feels like nothing can hurt me with Weston around. He saved my life, after all. How could I refuse to have dinner with him?
It has nothing to do with the way he makes my heart race when he looks at me…
Nothing at all.