Chapter 2
Ava
I stood there on his front porch eating the chocolate chip cookie, feeling like a fool.
But isn’t that what Halloween is for? Putting yourself out there and doing crazy things?
Every Halloween of my adult life, I’d gone out of my way to befriend a stranger. And my friend Abby had turned me on to this particular stranger.
He was her and Silas’ new neighbor. And she said he wasn’t very friendly.
Abby herself was shy, though, so I chalked some of that up to potential social awkwardness. But even Silas had said the new neighbor was cranky.
He’d lived next door for six months and they still didn’t even know his name.
He was just called ‘the new neighbor’.
Which is why I was here trying to entice him over to their party. It was a perfect meet-and-greet so he could get to know a bunch of people on the mountain.
I chewed up the last bit of the cookie, then called out. “I ate the cookie. You want to open the door now? I also wouldn’t mind an explanation of why you wanted me to eat it. Not that I mind, but it’s a little strange, don’t you think?”
Wind whipped through the forest, going straight through my skin and into my bones.
It was still fall, but you could feel winter nipping on its heels tonight.
I didn’t want to stand outside in the cold any longer.
Not in late October in the Ozarks. I wasn’t wearing enough for extended outdoor time on the mountain.
The door creaked open.
Just enough for me to see a man in flannel sleep pants and no shirt with a shotgun in his hands. But the thing that caught my eye was his dark, thick beard that matched his piercing eyes. That and his muscles, which I valiantly tried not to ogle.
Who has abs like that? They should be outlawed.
“Are you going to shoot me or eat my cookies?” I joked, nodding towards the shotgun in his hands.
He was holding it in a ready-alert position. Not aimed at me necessarily, but it was definitely pointed in my direction.
It was almost as though my mention of it reminded him that he was pointing a gun at me. He shifted the barrel in the other direction, still gripping it tightly.
“Why did you bring me chocolate chip cookies on Halloween night, Ava?”
Abby forgot to tell me how handsome he is.
He was older than me, and now that I was looking closer, I noticed some salt-and-pepper in his beard.
He’s probably late thirties or early forties.
I always liked an older man, and all of my womanly nerve endings woke up and stood at attention.
There was instant heat between us, and I felt a pleasurable frisson roll through me.
But I was getting side-tracked from my mission.
Shrugging a shoulder, I said, “Just trying to welcome you to the mountain. And, uh, my friends are having a party,” I gestured out their way.
You could just see the light of the bonfire where it brightened the night sky on the other side of a hill.
“Abby and Silas are your neighbors. Lovely people. Really friendly. Low-key. And they, we, I mean I would just die to have you come over tonight and meet everyone.”
His expression hardened. “Look. I get that you’re some kind of neighborhood welcome committee, but I don’t need a welcome. I’ll take the cookies, and you can go.”
He leaned the gun against his living room wall, then snatched the cookies from my hands, leaving the rest of the candy behind. I’d brought him a dozen cookies. I’d eaten one, so he still had eleven left.
His skin felt coarse where it had scraped across my hand. The friction sent a thrill of something unexpected through me. Like sparks had just come to life.
Clearing my throat, I worked to get us back on track. “Let’s start over. Happy Halloween! I’m Ava, nice to meet you. And you are?”
If I could just get a name out of him, it would be a start. I could tell already he was going to be like one of those wild animals that’s not quite ready for human contact. So I needed to go slowly.
He furrowed his brow and rumbled, “It doesn’t matter who I am. You gave me the cookies. I took them. What more do you want?”
I pointed back over the hill in the direction of my friend’s house. “Well… there’s the party. Do you feel like coming? We’d love to have you there. You can meet everyone who lives around here.”
Fireworks lit up the sky again, and I noticed him reflexively draw back.
Huh.
He growled out, “I don’t want to go to their party. I don’t like noise. It’s loud enough over here as it is.”
“Because of the fireworks?”
“And the people.”
“What do you mean?”
He let out an impatient breath. “Listen.”
At first, I thought that was an introduction to whatever else he was going to say. But he got quiet and stood there with his arms crossed over his bare chest, leaning on the doorjamb with the most serious expression on his face.
This was a serious, serious man. I could tell already.
I wonder if he ever laughs.
Around that time I realized he actually did want me to listen.
I looked away from his chiseled face and shut my eyes.
The air was crisp and cool. I could almost smell it. Along with a hint of his cologne. It was only mildly intoxicating.
But then I remembered to listen, not just try to breathe him in.
And I heard the muffled pops of fireworks in the distance. And people laughing. Someone shrieked, and then everyone started talking at once.
“Oh. Sound carries pretty far, doesn’t it? I had no idea you could hear us talking over here.”
“I listen to that every time they throw a party. The man blasts loud music all the time, even at odd hours of the night. And the woman is quiet, but she regularly has friends with loud mouths.”
He narrowed his eyes and glared at me, like I was the one he was talking about.
That stopped me short. “And I suppose you think I’m one of the loud-mouths you’ve heard over there?”
He raised an eyebrow and shrugged a shoulder.
That was annoying. Especially because I’d been told many times that I was too loud. People were always shushing me. I just got so excited I was overly animated at times.
“It’s not as loud as being in an apartment,” I justified. “Or even a regular neighborhood. All the sound is pretty muffled out here,” I told him, refusing to feel ashamed for disrupting his peace and quiet.
“If I wanted a regular neighborhood, I would have bought a house in one. But I bought this place on twenty acres out in the middle of fucking nowhere so I wouldn’t have to deal with welcome committees like you.
And the real estate agent never told me there was a house on the other side of the hill.
I just looked around and felt like I was going to be completely and totally alone out here.
I mean, twenty acres! Why the hell did they build so close to another house?
” He frowned and muttered, “I never would have bought this place if I’d known there were neighbors this close. ”
Sorting through everything he just said, I finally asked, “Why do you want to be so alone?”
The expression he gave me was almost like he couldn’t fathom my lack of understanding.
“To get away from people, of course,” he rumbled.
“What’s so wrong with people? It seems like it would get lonely. And what exactly do you mean by that? Would you be happy going a full year without contact? Or is it more like your weekly visit to the grocery store fulfills your social quota?”
His lips parted in the most enticing way, even as his brow furrowed deeper. “Why are you so curious about it?”
Might as well lay it all out on the line.
“I like to get to know people. And… I like to help them feel better. It’s just something I do.
And my friend Abby said you could use some cheering up.
She mentioned that you tend to seem a little…
grumpy. No judgment, of course. Men are allowed to be as grumpy as they want.
But sometimes it’s nice to try on another emotion for size.
Eat one of the cookies. I promise it will cheer you up. ”
He glanced at the package in his hands.
Then he pulled one of the cookies out and took a bite.
His eyes widened as he swallowed it down.
Then he took another bite.
And another.
Until the cookie was just crumbs on his fingertips.
He licked his lips in satisfaction, getting a little dab of chocolate off one corner.
“They’re still warm,” he rumbled.
“Yeah. I don’t live very far away. Just down the road, give or take a few miles. I baked those cookies and brought them straight over. Looks like they’re doing their job. Now that I’ve fed you warm chocolate chip cookies, can I get a name out of you?”
He grunted, “You’re persistent.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Then I smiled at him, a cheeky grin with a hint of flirt in it. I kind of liked this surly mountain man, so there was no harm in showing it.
I must have worn down his resistance because he growled out, “Tyler,” before pulling out a second cookie and taking a bite out of it.
And this is what it’s like to tame the heart of a feral mountain man.
All you need is a fast smile and a batch of hot cookies. Works every time.