Chapter 3
Grayson
She sat across from me, stammering and flustered, her words tumbling out in a rush.
Her dark blonde hair was a disaster, sticking out in about ten different directions as if she’d lost her hairbrush somewhere around the state line and hadn’t found a replacement since.
When I told her to stay, the word came out rougher than I intended, and she froze, those blue eyes going wide.
This is what I always did with women. Scared them off without even meaning to.
Up close, I could see details I’d missed from across the room. She had faint freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, barely visible beneath her tan.
And wide, open eyes, like she hadn’t seen much of life yet.
This pretty city princess wouldn’t last a day in these mountains.
Maybe I should stay close to keep her from getting into trouble out here. Being unprepared out in the wildlands surrounding Iron Peak could be a death sentence.
“There’s no need to switch booths,” I said in a low rumble. “Marla likes to meddle. It’s her favorite hobby.”
She was younger than me. Definitely younger. Late twenties at most, which put at least a decade between us. Probably too young for a gruff bastard like me.
Amelia’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though the flush still colored her cheeks. “She seems… determined.”
“You have no idea.”
I should have left it at that. Should have let her order her breakfast, eat in awkward silence, and then watch her walk out of the diner and out of my life.
That would have been the smart thing to do.
Instead, I heard myself say, “She was telling the truth about the tour.”
“The free tour?” Amelia blinked while her hair caught the morning light streaming through the window, turning some of her strands bright like gold. I was almost transfixed by it.
“I’d be happy to take you out. Show you around. What kind of tour interests you? I do town tours, hiking tours, or something off the beaten trail.”
“For free? I don’t want to take up your time, but I really can’t pay. I’m on a tight budget.”
“Yup. Marla said it would be free. It’ll be free,” I rumbled.
I wouldn’t talk the pretty woman into it. So I leaned my arm back on the bench seat and waited for her to make up her mind.
She looked into my eyes, and something shifted in her expression. The nervousness faded, replaced by something dreamier. Softer. Her mouth parted slightly while she fidgeted with her napkin. She had the kind of lips that would flush beautifully under a man’s mouth.
In a quiet voice she said, “Take me on an adventure.”
My cock jolted awake in my jeans, suddenly very interested in the conversation.
Down, boy.
But the damn thing was staging a mini-revolution, ready to overthrow all my good sense if I didn’t do everything in my power to get this woman underneath me.
“I’ve got just the spot,” I said, my voice dropping lower. “Past the old mine ruins out by the Iron Peak Trailhead, there’s a path that most people don’t know about. Leads to a secluded hot spring.”
Her eyes lit up. “A hot spring?”
“Not the main one on the tourist maps. This one’s hidden. I could count on one hand the number of people who know it exists.”
“That sounds perfect.” Amelia smiled, and her whole face lit up. “I’d love that.”
“It’s settled then. We’ll go after breakfast.”
Polly appeared at our table with her notepad and a knowing smirk. She was one of Marla’s part-time girls, a college student home for the summer, and she’d clearly witnessed the whole setup.
“What can I get you two?”
We ordered. She got the breakfast special with extra bacon. I stuck with my usual eggs and hash browns. Polly scribbled it down and disappeared toward the kitchen.
I leaned back in the booth, studying Amelia. “So what brings you to Iron Peak? You don’t exactly look like the outdoorsy type.”
She glanced down at her thin coat draped over the seat beside her and laughed softly. “Is it that obvious?”
“Little bit.”
She settled deeper into the booth. “I was a medical receptionist in Florida up until recently. But I decided it was time for a change.”
“Yeah? Why’s that? I thought people usually moved to Florida. Not away from it. Palm trees and dolphins and shit.”
Her lips curled up into a tiny smile. “That’s only when you’re on vacation. Working in Florida is a whole different vibe. It was a good job with a steady paycheck, but completely soul-crushing.”
“Soul-crushing how?”
“Well, it was the same thing every day. I was on autopilot. It got to the point where I woke up one morning and realized I’d been sleepwalking through my own life.”
She traced a pattern on the table with her fingertip. “So I put in my notice, sold most of my stuff, and started driving.”
“Driving where?”
“I don’t know yet. Until I find somewhere that feels different.”
I stared at her. This shy, flustered woman had upended her entire life on a feeling. Quit her job, sold her possessions, and just… left.
That took guts. More guts than her nervous demeanor suggested.
“That’s a hell of a decision.”
“Probably a stupid one,” she admitted with a small shrug. “But I couldn’t keep living like that. I was disappearing into the beige walls.”
“You’re too young for a midlife crisis.” I took a sip of my coffee. “You running from a man?”
“What? No,” she shook her head firmly. “Definitely no man. I’ve had a few tepid dates in the last couple years, but nothing serious. Nothing worth running from.”
The way she looked at me when she said the word tepid made my blood heat. Like she was imagining what a date with me might be like. Like she already knew I was anything but lukewarm.
“What did you do as a receptionist?”
She told me about the medical office, the doctors she’d worked for, the parade of patients and paperwork. She spoke about it without bitterness, just a kind of tired acceptance that made me understand why she’d needed to escape.
“So what do you want to do now?” I asked. “Now that you’ve left all that behind?”
Her face changed, lit up from the inside in a way it hadn’t when she’d talked about her old job.
“I have this side business. Selling exotic houseplants online. I propagate them myself, growing them from cuttings.” She shrugged her shoulders slightly, as if she was embarrassed. “It’s probably not practical as a real career, but it’s what I love to do.”
“Tell me about it.”
She looked surprised that I wanted to know more.
Then she started talking. Her hands moved as she spoke, gesturing with enthusiasm.
Her eyes sparkled. This was the real her, I realized.
This passionate woman who could talk about root systems and humidity levels like they were the most fascinating subjects in the world.
“Most of what I packed in my car wasn’t actually personal stuff,” she confessed. “It’s my propagation supplies. Grow lights, humidity trays, rooting hormone. And my plant starts. I focus mostly on philodendrons and monsteras, with some pothos for people who want something more affordable.”
“Where are the plants now? They’ll freeze out in your car.”
“Oh, I’m renting a room at the bed-and-breakfast in town. The Summit House.” She grinned. “Nora was very understanding about me turning her guest room into a temporary greenhouse.”
Polly arrived with our food, sliding plates in front of us. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the air, and Amelia made a small sound of appreciation that went straight to my groin when she spotted her stack of pancakes.
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The food was good, as always. Marla knew her way around a griddle.
But as I chewed, reality crept back in.
Tropical plants. She grows tropical plants.
Iron Peak had more frost dates than frost-free days. We got our first snow in September, and it didn’t fully melt until May.
No way she could run a tropical plant business here. Which meant Iron Peak wasn’t her final destination.
She was just passing through, looking for somewhere warmer, where her plants could thrive.
Anything between us would be temporary.
And I didn’t do temporary. I’d learned that lesson the hard way. People who were just passing through had a habit of taking pieces of you with them when they left.
I set my fork down and made a decision. I’d take Amelia on a tour today. Show her the hot springs and be professional about it. But that was it.
No flirting, no fantasizing about what she’d look like wet and steaming in that secluded spring.
I’d keep my distance from this one.