3. Piper
3
Piper
I hiked up this mountain to find a distraction to help get over my last relationship. I guess time or nature wasn’t what I needed. No, I just needed a big brute to do the job.
I don’t know what Grayson’s deal is. He’s one big mystery. I can’t tell if he wants to touch me, or is too afraid to.
Getting to the bathroom was another challenge. He looked like he wanted to pick me back up, but couldn’t tell if I wanted that. So, instead of letting me wince or groan, he offered his arm instead.
Walking isn’t impossible. It throbs a little when I step on my foot, but if I’m using him for support, it’s not too bad. I might add onto the dramatics so he doesn’t kick me out right away once he sees I’m not in terrible shape.
“I’ll leave you something to wear. Take your time.” He moves to rub the back of his neck. Looking awkward, he shifts from one foot to the other. “Need anything else?”
This guy might look like a grizzly, but I’m starting to think he’s as threatening as a stuffed teddy.
“No, I think I can figure it out from here. Thank you, Grayson. Really.” Giving him a smile, he nods and immediately turns. Just like that, he’s shuffling toward the room I am assuming is his. Not too many doors in this cabin. It’s fitting for a man who has abandoned society.
Making my way into the bathroom, I’m thankful for the lock on the door. I need something to make me feel like I’m not too trusting of this guy. The strange thing is, he really doesn’t seem like a bad guy. He’s just grumpy, that’s all.
Going through the room as if it’ll give me any information on the guy, I snort when I find an unopened package of razors. Funny coming from the guy with a bush on his face. Daisy must’ve gotten them for him in hopes he’d change his mind.
Well, if Grayson doesn’t want to use them, then I’m happy to take one.
Not to say the thought of getting lucky is on my mind, but it doesn’t hurt to shave my limbs while staying with a guy who has a wildish appeal that is starting to grow on me.
Tearing open the package, I pluck one out, grab a towel and move to figure out the shower. I’ll have to see if he has any lotion, because I can only imagine how my skin is going to look once I get my pants off.
* * *
Once I’m sure I’ve soaked up every last drop of heat, I’m wobbling through his cabin once I’ve gotten dressed. He left me a buttoned up shirt large enough to be a dress. More embarrassingly, he gave me a pair of boxers. However, they look brand new.
I will not imagine his sister buying him underwear because he goes without them. No, this is purely great timing on my part.
“Grayson?” Calling out his name, silence welcomes me. Weird. I would not have thought he’d leave me by my lonesome, but it seems that’s the case. If I have to guess, he doesn’t think I’ll get far if I’m the type to have sticky fingers.
Has he changed his mind and decided to go out to find help before it gets gross out?
I’ve got no right in feeling upset. Not when he’s already done so much for me by letting me use his home as a shelter. So, if he changed his mind, then it is what it is.
Reaching the kitchen, my stomach rumbles at the thought of food. It wouldn’t be polite for me to raid his cupboards while he’s not around. Maybe I’ll ask for a snack as a parting gift.
Thankfully, there are no more dead animals within sight. Glancing at his freezer, I can only imagine how much game meat is inside. Does he fish too, while he’s at it?
A thump in the background catches my attention, pulling me over toward the window nearest to the sink. Leaning over the counter, I glance outside.
Finding Grayson with ease, I don’t find him in the same state I left him in. Guess he didn’t leave after all.
“Oh my…” Murmuring the words, I have to swipe my hand against the glass to get a better view.
Tainted shirt gone, another thwack fills the air as my savior strikes a log with an ax, splitting the piece into two. Grayson’s shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin, his chest heaving with exertion. His chest has more dark hair, less than the rest of him. However, the trail down toward his jeans seems to beckon me with a tantalizing allure.
I should be ashamed of ogling this man without him knowing, but I can’t help myself. My thighs are shifting, grazing the other as my pussy gets a foreign tingle. Is it normal to get aroused from just looking at someone this appealing?
I’m supposed to be forgetting about men, and here I’m wondering how to touch this one.
I know I’m making a mess of this trip, but the sights are so captivating, I’m completely mesmerized. Seeing the powerful arc of the ax, the way his muscles move, fuels the flames of my desire.
If Grayson ever left this mountain, he’d be swarmed by every single woman who catches a glimpse of him. Both old and young.
Jealousy nips at my chest, jealousy that shouldn’t be there.
Grayson isn’t mine to worry about other people discovering his existence. In truth, he seems like he’d rather no one knows about him.
Pulling myself away from the window before I drool, I limp toward his living room.
I shouldn’t be nosey, but I’m curious about the guy.
Picking around his books, I grimace at the amount of western-themed ones he owns. Not too much of a reader myself, I’m sure they’re great.
He’s got some photographs, confirming his relationship with Daisy. The few resting on the wall are from throughout the years, some with other faces I don’t know, some just them. One in particular catches my attention.
It’s Grayson without the beard. I’m sure of it. The eyes are the same. He’s holding Daisy in his arms, both siblings grinning at the camera. He’s wearing a uniform, a familiar camouflage pattern.
The sound of the door opening brings my attention away from the frames. Waddling toward his couch, I’m patting down the front of his shirt against my thighs by the time he appears.
He doesn’t look my way, not at first. Probably a good thing.
Shirtless, sweaty, Grayson was dangerous from a distance. Up close, this man is lethal and I’m getting more and more lightheaded the longer I stare his way. Talk about a freaking knockout.
Even the scent of this man makes things challenging. Why am I not repulsed by the earthy smell of sweat and hard work?
My toes curl into the carpet as he drops some chopped wood next to the large metal fire stove.
He works on getting a fire started; the sparks showering his face, and I squirm, feeling the heat on my skin.
Can I ask him questions about the photographs? He’d find them invasive, I’m sure. I should wait until he tells me himself, if he even wants to.
“Your shower is really nice,” I say instead, needing to fill the air with something other than silence. It’s driving me mad.
He grunts, nodding his head. “Owned nothing that fits you.”
Explaining the lack of pants. I get it, but beggars can’t be choosers. Maybe that’s why he won’t look my way. Rest assured, he’s got nothing to worry about.
“The shirt feels like a nightgown. Covers everything up.”
I must hit it right on the dot because he throws a glance over his shoulder. His eyes lock onto me, and his brows lower.
His eyes show no relief, no thankfulness that the chaos I created in his home has ended; there’s something else entirely. His eyes are clouded with a desperate need for something that isn’t food.
He looks like he wants to eat me up.
Heat floods my cheeks at the ridiculous thought. Looking away, I squeeze my knees. “Thanks.”
How many times am I going to thank this guy? He gets it, Piper.
Thankfully, Grayson turns to look back at his work. Another nod, followed by another grunt.
Talking has to get easier as time goes by. By tomorrow, we’ll be having full conversations, I’m sure of it.
“It’ll warm up here soon.” He shoves another piece into his fire stove. “Stay close.”
He gets up, abandoning me long enough to grab a first-aid kit. Once he’s settled next to my side, I watch as he pats his thigh.
He wants my ankle, I know . However, all I want to do is crawl toward him and see how comfortable his lap is.
“Pills help?”
Rotating toward him, I nod. I watch as he prods at my ankle once more before pulling out a wrap from his kit. Ever so carefully, he wraps my ankle. If it were me, I’d make it too loose or too tight. Grayson does it perfectly. When he’s finished, his thumb traces my ankle bone soothingly like he’s not ready to part ways so soon.
Even if I’m imagining this whole thing in my head, I won’t move until he says he’s done.
“You don’t seem like the kind of guy that gets hurt a lot.” Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I notice the small thin hairs on his fingers. “You’re pretty good.”
His throat bobs with his next swallow. “Used to wrap plenty of bandages when I was younger, that’s all. Dealing with a sprain would be considered a good day.”
Even if I tell myself not to push, I can’t help myself. “What’s a bad day?”
Catching his gaze when he looks up, he squints. “Grotesque details I don’t think I want to get into, if you don’t mind.”
Nodding, I give him a smile. “Well, I appreciate your skills. If you’d given me the wrap, I would’ve tripped on it and twisted my other ankle,” I half-joke, but it earns me a little rise to his mouth. Not a smile, but one heck of a win in my book.
Lifting to stand, he looks toward the kitchen. “You stay and warm up. I’ll throw together something for us to eat.”
My stomach picks the best time to rumble. “I don’t know how I can pay you back for all of this. Say the word, and I’ll try to make it happen.”
His nose scrunches at the offer. “Just get better, that’s all I want. Don’t hurt yourself further.”
Hardly asking for much here, I can see there’s no point in putting up a fight to give him something of equal value.
“I think I can do that much.” Laughing under my breath, I can’t imagine myself doing anything to hurt myself under his watchful gaze.