Chapter Seven
ELLIE
If Anson regrets letting me stay longer, he isn’t showing it. Even though I’ve chatted his ear off the entire drive down the mountain about ingredients and things I want to bake and how to better organize his kitchen once he actually has food to put in it.
One side of his mouth is curled up, almost like he’s fighting a smile.
Me? I’m fighting a fist pump. Everything looks brighter.
This day, the sun in the sky, the adorable little town that looks straight out of a Hallmark movie…
it’s all beautiful. I could live here and be happy forever.
Especially if I can crack the grumpy mountain man armor and learn something real about this man.
Because as much as I like his protective qualities and his sexy as sin body, I need more.
“What’s your favorite? Muffins or cookies?” I ask as the mountain road evens out.
“Both.”
That doesn’t help. “Blueberry or chocolate chip muffins?”
He flicks a glance at me. “Both.”
“Oatmeal raisin or chocolate chip cookies? Wait, don’t say it. Both.”
“I’m not picky.”
“Were you raised by bears and human food is a new adventure for you?”
He snorts. “Wolves. Not bears.”
I grin. “Chocolate chip it is.”
I’m making a mental list of groceries when he quietly says, “Dottie helped raise me.”It’s the first time he’s offered anything personal about himself.
I knew Dottie was his grandmother from our conversation yesterday, but she raised him? “You lived with Dottie and didn’t turn to a life of crime?”
His lips twitch. “It was close. My parents are still around. They’ve always been exacting with my sister, Avery, and me.
Especially when I was an angry, rebellious teen.
After I got into trouble a few times, they sent me to live with Dottie for a summer.
That summer turned into a year. Then two.
I had the option to go back home, but I didn’t want to be forced into law school like my dad wanted.
Avery stayed with us for a while too. She was much younger and easier to deal with, so I guess I was Dottie’s main project.
“I gave her hell during those years, but she handled it like she does everything else. She bribed me with cookies, gave me hugs, and turned into a drill sergeant ordering me to stop being a brat.” The fondness in his voice is unmistakable.
“She’s the reason I joined the military.
We watched a movie about Navy Seals once after the cops brought me home.
She said I was tough enough to be one. I remember scoffing at the idea. They seemed so badass.”
“She baited you.”
“Yeah. She said I was right. I couldn’t stay out of trouble long enough to finish school, so how could I be a SEAL? She couldn’t have laid down a bigger dare to a rebellious kid. I was offended . Played right into her scheme.”
“Did you become a SEAL?” God, no wonder he is ripped. He bench-lifted boats.
“At first.”
I blink. What does that mean? “And after?”
He shoots me another look, this one tinged with sadness. “I learned to live in the shadows.”
I think back to the high security at his cabin and all the weapons. Whatever happened after changed him.
“Do you regret it?” The question slips out unbidden.
His head shake is almost imperceptible. “Only when I look at you,” he murmurs.
My breath catches. I have a hundred questions now, but he’s closed off again, and I know they won’t be answered.
We pass a small motel on the edge of town with a handful of cars. It’s a mix of older vehicles and expensive models like a shiny black SUV and a fancy European car. The kind Grant might drive. He can’t be here already, can he? It hasn’t been twenty-four hours since I left Denver.
Anson narrows his eyes at the vehicles and speeds up. “The grocery store is just ahead.”
We pass the cutest movie theater with an old billboard and a few small shops.
The Gravy Lane Diner looks good. I’m about to suggest we stop there for lunch when I see the florist. The glass windows are painted with flowers and bright blooms are on display outside.
I feel a pang in my chest. Maybe my dreams of owning a floral shop aren’t dead yet. There’s always hope, right?
“You like flowers,” Anson says.
“I do. Arranging them, selling them, seeing people light up when they receive them? It’s the best.”
“Heard the owner might retire next year. Maybe—” Anson swallows, keeping his eyes on the traffic.
My heart turns over, filling me with warmth. “Yeah. Maybe.”
He glances at me and offers the smallest smile.
It’s everything .
We park in the grocery lot, and he scans the area. “Stay close.”
He trails me through the grocery store like an armed guard in black flannel.
Instead of feeling suffocated by it, his protectiveness is making me hot.
His hand guiding me away from passing carts, the heat of his body behind mine, the brush of fingers on my lower back.
Every touch is casual. Every one makes me burn.
I want his hands on me like they were when I woke this morning.
Skin to skin. And with every heated glance, I’m starting to see him open up. Maybe I was wrong yesterday.
Maybe he wants me too.
That fleeting half grin flickers over his face once more when he tells me to get whatever I want.I load up the basket, saving the baking aisle for last.
When we reach it, I’m practically skipping down the row.
My shoulders relax just looking at this sugary wonderland.
I stack the cart withflour, sugar, sprinkles, sparkly paper baking cups, and every other bit of comfort I can find.
I even toss in real kitchen equipment.Stirring the batter with his off-limits Ka-Bar is not the way to this man’s heart.
By the time we go to the checkout counter, people are gawking. Either at our cart or Anson. From the whispers I hear, huge mountain men aren’t that uncommon, but an Anson sighting is rare. Unicorn rare. They’re also nervous around him.
He pays the extravagant grocery bill without complaint and pushes the overloaded cart outside like it weighs nothing.
“Why are they acting like they’re scared of you?” I ask once we’re outside.
He stops on the sidewalk. Surprise flits across his face. He looks me over, a somewhat baffled expression in his eyes. As if I’m a mystery he hasn’t solved. “You don’t see me like they do.”
Right then, tires screech. I turn to see a black SUV leaving the parking lot in a hurry.
“Don’t move,” he growls, then he sprints after the vehicle, phone already in hand.
I watch him go. I shouldn’t stare, but the man runs like a panther.
“Hey, you new in town?” someone asks beside me.
I freeze, afraid it’s one of Grant’s men, until I turn to see a tall cowboy with his hat pulled low to shade his eyes. He’s leaning against a railing, one booted foot crossed over the other. “Don’t think I’ve seen you before. Let me help with your cart.”
“Oh. That’s okay. I have help.”
“Looks like he’s busy.” He steps closer, and a second man drifts in behind him. “We’re just being neighborly.”
My heart starts to race.I glance at the parking lot. Anson’s still on the phone—but he’s watching. When our eyes lock, he hangs up and strides toward us.
“We’re talking to you,” the second cowboy says, gripping my shoulder and turning me too hard.
The movement knocks me off balance. I stumble into the railing, hitting my hip. “Ow.”
A shadow falls over me.
Anson is suddenly there. He grabs the first cowboy by the back of his shirt and slams a fist in his stomach, shoving him away, then spins and pins the second face-first against the wall before the man knows what’s happening.
“You don’t touch a woman without permission,” he growls, low and lethal. “Especially not mine.”
“Get the fuck off me. You can’t threaten people with knives.”
I don’t see a knife, but I have no doubt my weapon-obsessed man has one.
Anson’s lips move, voice too low for me to hear what he tells the man.
“Let’s go, Sherman,” the first cowboy says.
The second cowboy glares at Anson, then me, and shrugs out of his hold. Though I’m certain, if Anson wanted him on the ground, he would be.
“What the hell, Tucker? You were no help,” he says to his friend, wiping a smear of blood off his lip.
“I’m smart enough not to mess with him ,” Tucker mutters as they slink away.
Anson sheathes a slim blade at his waist. He’s a walking weapon.And judging by the wide berth other shoppers are giving us, I’m not the only one impressed.
He removed both men so fast, so efficiently, I barely had time to gain my feet.
Anson comes slowly toward me. “You okay?”
I nod.
He scans me from head to toe. “If they hurt you…”
“They didn’t. I just bumped my hip.”
He scowls. “I’ll rip those motherfuckers apart.”
Later. Right now, I just want his arms around me. My heart is slamming in my chest from the odd events, and my hero is back to keeping distance between us.
Not this time.
I don’t even think, just cup his bearded cheeks, rise on tiptoes, and kiss him.
He freezes.
Oh no.He doesn’t want this?—
Then he groans.His strong arms wrap around my waist, yanking me against his chest, and I’m kissed breathless by the sexiest man in town. Right there on the sidewalk in front of half of White Falls.