2. Grayson
2
Grayson
I’ve come across plenty of hikers in my day. Typically, I ignore them. Hell, they just have to look my way, and they know that I’m the last thing on this mountain they want to bother.
Never have I come across such a beautiful one. Not one that made me question if my eyes were playing tricks on me or not. No, this woman is real. I feel her weight against my arms with every step.
Her voice is soft, coated with a layer of hesitance every time she parts those plump lips. Unless I want to run us into a tree, I need to stop staring at them.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve been in a woman’s company. Unless my sister, the one who pounds on my door every few weeks to make sure I’m still alive, counts. If not, it’s had to be years. Years .
That must be why I’m feeling so on edge. Why I’m feeling this demanding need to get her to my cabin as soon as possible.
“I’m Piper, by the way,” she introduces after a while. “I appreciate the help.”
I believe her, but the wobble of her voice makes it unconvincing. This woman seems like she’s outright terrified of me. I’m sure I’ve given her a list of reasons why to be.
Breathing in again, all I smell is citrus. Maybe it’s her shampoo, or her body wash, but the smell clinging to her is mouthwatering compared to what I’m used to. Nothing but the scent of earth out here. After last night’s rain, all I’ve smelled is wet grass.
I want to bury my nose into her hair and see how much of a difference the citrus fruit makes.
From the way my cock stirs to life from doing nothing but hugging her closer to my chest, I can bet it’s one hell of a difference.
“Grayson.” While I doubt knowing each other’s names will mean much, I return the introduction.
When she shivers against my arms, I hug her closer and try to flood her body with my heat. Her clothes are wet, and it isn’t hot. With the mist in the air, it’s a wonder how her teeth aren’t chattering.
I need to get her warmed up. Check her ankle while I’m at it. Probably get her dressed in some dry clothes before she gets sick or her skin rashes up.
My steps move faster, carrying us closer and closer to my cabin.
“So, I just want to make sure, but you’re not secretly a serial killer or anything, right?” Looking up at me with wide eyes, they’re the same color as the trees. Green like the leaves and flecks of brown like the bark. Is she serious?
“No, I’m not a serial killer.” Stating the obvious, I can’t help but wonder what kind would admit their crimes out loud?
Noticing the way she relaxes in my arms, I can’t help but believe that she’s more than trusting. While I should tell her not to trust strangers so easily, I can’t ignore how much I like the way she feels when she’s not stiff like a board.
When we reach my home, it feels like I’m carrying my wife as I push the door open with my boot. I don’t want to set her down too soon, so I end up carrying her straight to the kitchen.
Like she’s a piece of glass that’ll shatter if set down wrong, I ease her down onto the chair next to the table.
“Sorry for the mud,” she groans, looking at the mess we’ve made. The trail with my boots, what is now clinging to my clothes, and the chair she’s sitting on isn’t much to clean up. Nothing to fret about.
“It’s fine.” Grabbing the hares from her stomach, I set them on the counter to deal with once I’m done with Piper. Before I make more of a mess, I sit next to her long enough to work off my boots. As the laces lick my wrists, I try not to acknowledge the weight of her curious stare.
She keeps watching me. Less with fear, more with curiosity. Finally, she gives me a bit of relief when she looks to the side.
She grimaces as she glances over at the rabbits. “You know there is a grocery store in town… right? They’ve got plenty of cow and chicken in stock.”
My sister reacts the same whenever she sees the state of my freezer.
“I don’t go into town. Don’t need to. Everything I need is right up here.” Or so I thought.
I’m assuming this woman is from Willowbrook Ridge. If she were a tourist coming to climb, she would’ve come to the mountain better prepared. Better yet, she wouldn’t have come during such shitty weather.
Boots set to the side, I move to hunt down some painkillers. Something to help her out for the time being until I can get a better look at her injury.
“You know, I don’t think they grow these on trees,” she points out as she accepts the pills. She recognizes them by color and pops them into her mouth. Swallowing them down with the glass of water I slide her way, she sighs. “So, I’m not calling you a liar or anything, but stuff isn’t adding up here.”
Normally, if someone needs to know details about my life, I tell them to go fuck off. It’s none of their business.
However, Piper’s curiosities are making everything feel as normal as snow on a summer day.
“Someone brings me things, my sister. Can’t tell her no, she won’t listen.” Rolling a shoulder, I move to kneel at her feet. Carefully untying her laces, my brows furrow. “You’ve probably seen her. Runs a flower shop in town.”
“Daisy’s?” She lifts her brows, confirming she’s not some tourist. “She’s so pleasant! So sweet, and always with a smile. She’s your sister?”
My eyes flick up toward the surprise in her voice. “That unbelievable?”
I’m not prepared for the twin patches of pink that form on her cheeks. My eyes burn as I forget to blink, giving her plenty of time to recover.
“No, no. You two just don’t look too much alike, that’s all.” Clearing her throat, her ankle shifts against my fingers. “How bad does it look?”
Tearing my eyes back down, I stare at her pastel-blue colored sock. It’s got more brown caked around where the sock meets her skin. “Slightly swollen, but doesn’t look terrible. Give it a few hours on ice, and you’ll be fine.”
Her brows lift in surprise. “You sound like a doctor.”
I shrug a shoulder and carefully release her. The last time I had to give a diagnosis, it was telling a close friend that he’d have to lose his leg. Have to say, this is far more preferable.
Moving to stand, her head tilts back to look at me. Slowly blinking, she soon pauses. “Oh, wait. Phone. I need to tell someone where I’m at.”
Does that mean she’s jumping at the opportunity to get off of this mountain? The thought of never seeing this woman again makes it hard to swallow and my heart races in my chest. Can’t say I’m huge on the feeling.
Turning away, I move to wash up my hands and arms. “No phone. These storms knock out most of the signal, anyway.”
Daisy insists I have one, just in case. She even tried to leave a radio on my porch to talk to her that way. Don’t have a clue where I put it. It’ll take some hunting, and who knows if she still has the other one working? She’s too busy in her shop to get a message now.
“Then why did you–”
“You wanted me to leave you out there?” Scowling at the towel I dry my hands with, I stare at the zig-zag pattern like it’ll have the answer of why I thought bringing her to my home was the only option.
I could’ve carried her until one of those mountain rescuers drove by. Could’ve left her on someone else’s doorstep to deal with. Now that I can finally think, since she’s within my space, there are plenty of routes I could’ve taken. Instead, here she sits, lips pressed in a firm line, and brows bunched together.
“Another storm is coming.” Flicking my eyes toward the window, I take in the dark clouds in the distance. “Better to be here than out there once the rain starts pouring again.”
My tone is rough, more than I want it to be. Though, I can’t help it. I live up on the mountain for a reason. I don’t deal with people well. Especially not beautiful strangers that have a pull on me I can’t explain.
“Thank you.” Stumbling with her appreciation, she lets out a soft sigh. “I haven’t said it once, despite going out of your way.”
Doing a little sighing myself, I nod. “Once the weather clears, I’ll flag someone down. Surely, they’ll send a search party if anyone calls you in as missing. See it all the time. Might as well be best friends with them with how often they knock on my door.”
Piper nods and chews on her bottom lip. “Right.”
I squint. “You did tell someone you were coming up here.”
Sure, she already broke the rule of coming up here by herself, but she’d know better than to do that and to do it without telling anyone.
The wince on her face makes my frown grow. “I mean, my friend suggested coming up here. I’m sure she’s pretty good at assuming.”
Okay, no search parties. That’s fine. I won’t mind her company for a night. Maybe two, if the rain keeps coming.
“You can stay here until you can get off the mountain. It’s fine.” Looking her way, I take in her state. She needs new clothes and a shower. Probably something to eat.
She must be thinking the same. “How hospitable are you feeling?”
This woman is going to be a handful. Since I’m in no rush to put a stop to this, I can only blame myself for encouraging more and more demands from her.
However, if I get to receive more of her appreciation, I can already tell I won’t think twice about meeting them.