Chapter 2
two
Emma
It’s nearly dark out. I’m humming to keep myself company when I spot the edge of my camp through the trees.
I’m a little chilly and very stiff from lying on the ground all day.
Finally, seeing the mountain sweet pitcher plant up close, after waiting for permission for almost a year, is my dream come true.
Time flew by, and before I knew it, the sun was setting.
Worth it, though. I should concentrate on where I’m going, especially since I’m traipsing through the dense woodland without the flashlight I forgetfully left in my tent this morning.
Instead, I’m fantasizing about my air mattress and the new mountain man romance book waiting for me.
I’m so lost in my head and my grumbling stomach that when I step into the clearing, I’m focused on what things I need to do to make dinner. I’m still singing when I see a shadow shifting at the edge of the tree line on the other side of the clearing.
I freeze. What the heck? Then I hear it.
A low growl. Goosebumps rise on my arms, and the song dies in my throat.
Is that a bear? Black bears are common in the area, but I didn’t expect to see one.
If not for the growl, I’d think it was my imagination.
I can’t even imagine what else it could be, and it’s huge based on the outline prowling in the shadows.
Holy shiitake mushrooms!
Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound friendly.
I unfreeze and turn around, running back through the forest as fast as I can.
My heavy pack smacks against my back and almost knocks me over.
I can’t slow down; it’s chasing me. When I turn to the left rather than staying on the path, pain shoots up my leg from putting too much weight on the ankle I injured in the accident that killed my parents.
Holding back a groan, I push on harder. My fight-or-flight response kicks in, but I’m no match for a growly, black bear.
My brain screams at me to stop running, to keep still, but my heart isn’t listening. I can’t hear anything but the loud pounding in my ears, so I don’t know how close it is. Unable to stop myself, I turn look over my shoulder and promptly tumble forward.
One second, adrenaline is pumping through my veins like fire as I run for my life, and the next, I’m face-planting. Now I’m lying on the forest floor and inhaling huge, gulping breaths of decaying leaves and dirt.
How is this my life? Seriously? If the universe wants me dead, why didn’t it just kill me in the accident with my parents?
Hot tears slide down my cheeks. Now that I’m on the ground, I need to calm down.
Play dead. Maybe the monster will leave me alone.
Of course, it will, because I’m so lucky like that.
As my mind races, I try to control my frantic breathing and stop twitching. It’s not happening. My pulse is racing, and my teeth are chattering, even though I’m clenching my jaw. There’s no way I can fake being dead.
I’m going to be bear food.
Lying there, I hope it’ll be dark enough that the bear won’t see me.
Then, branches snap, and there are loud thuds behind me.
Heavy breathing. Each footstep sounds closer than the last. After sucking in a deep breath, I slowly release it, my last-ditch effort to relax.
All my muscles lock up as I brace for the pain.
This bear is going to tear me apart. Shred my skin with its vicious claws and bite me with those huge teeth. I’ll be nothing but a bloody mess until other animals come for the leftovers. That’s what apex predators do.
Why didn’t I bring my bear spray? Because it was one more thing to stuff into my pack, which was already too full.
Besides, it’s not near winter. Bears shouldn’t be aggressive at this time of year.
Right? I can practically hear my dad telling me to always be prepared for everything.
I sniff back tears when I think about him—I miss my parents so much.
Should I chance running for it? Because running has worked so well this far. Who am I kidding? I can barely walk. But waiting here is just asking for it to kill me.
Hot breath whispers across the back of my neck where my ponytail has fallen over my shoulder. I hold in a whimper but can’t stop the cringe. This is it. Now or never. With my arms beneath me, I try to lift off the ground when I hear another growl. It’s way too close.
“Wait.”
What? My brain tries to understand how a wild animal is saying words. Maybe being terrified causes hallucinations. Yeah, I’ll go with that. I drop my arms and brace for what’s coming. My only solace is that I’ll die on this beautiful mountain instead of in the horrible city.
“What the fuck?” a gruff voice asks, its breath tickling my ear.
So close. Too close. Any second now, it’s going to tear me apart. Except the pain doesn’t come…
There’s no mistaking it this time. They were human words.
That’s it, I’ve lost my ever-loving mind.
Bears can’t speak—not English, that’s for sure.
Could the hulking beast be a person? I haven’t seen anyone since I got here yesterday.
As far as I know, the Gallant brothers are the only people living on the mountain, and I haven’t seen them, either.
Hands wrap around my waist and lift me off the ground.
No claws or fur on the hands. It is a man. Yup, there’s no doubt about it when he yells at me.
“What the hell were you thinking running through the forest in the dark? Are you trying to get yourself killed? No flashlight. Trespassing. Do you have a death wish? Because if that’s what you’re after, I’ll be happy to help,” the deep voice promises as he helps me to my feet, but surprisingly doesn’t release me until I’m steady.
When he takes a step back, just far enough to give me some space to breathe, I get my first look at him—though I can’t see clearly with so little light.
My gaze travels up from the forest floor, taking in his hiking boots, jeans, and a flannel shirt that stretches tightly across his chest and shoulders.
Crap on a cracker, he’s huge. At least two heads taller than me, with broad shoulders. No wonder I thought he was dang bear.
After dragging in a steadying breath, I open my mouth to yell at him for scaring the poop out of me. But when I shift on my feet, my ankle gives out, and I yelp.
The man is fast, though. Before I can fall, he grabs me and lifts me to balance on his hip, grumbling under his breath the whole time.
This close to his face, I can mostly make out his expression, and he presses his lips together in anger. His eyes are dark and seem to glitter in the low light. It does something funny to my insides.
I don’t know what I’m thinking—obviously I’m not—but I lean in close and sniff his neck. He smells like leaves and sunshine, and heat gathers between my legs. Holy cow, maybe I banged my head when I fell and I’m in a coma. Because what the heck is wrong with me?
I know I’ve lost it when I do it again. He smells sooo good.
Yup, I’ve gotta be in a coma. Either that, or I’m really asleep in my tent and I’m dreaming, again, about a sexy, gruff mountain man carrying me off to have his wicked way with me. It’s been on repeat for months now. Not that I ever expect it to happen, but this feels so real.
Moving my arm from behind his shoulder, I pinch myself just above my wrist for reassurance, and squeak. Oh. My. God. Not a dream at all.
“What are you doing? You still haven’t answered me.”
If possible, he sounds angrier than before. I can’t seem to make my mouth move to answer him.
“Not talking? Hmm. Fine. I bet you’ll change your mind when I get you back to my cabin.” Then he pulls my pack off my shoulders and slings it over his arm.
He’s already wearing one. Why didn’t I notice that when I was sniffing him? That realization shakes me out of my head, though.
“Wait. You can’t do that.”
“Of course I can.”
“No, you can’t. Put me down.”
When his eyes meet mine, I gulp. My voice cracks as I whisper, “Please.”
“No. You’re coming with me. I need answers. You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m allowed to be here.”
“I highly doubt that,” he huffs as he sets off in the opposite direction from my campsite.
“If you take me back to my tent, I can prove it,” I plead. The email from Andrew Gallant, granting me access to the mountain, is on my laptop. Not that I owe him an explanation. Who is he, anyway? Is he going to kill me? Or worse? He’s probably the one who’s trespassing here.
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he says, anger radiating from him. Then he grips me tighter and keeps walking.
I’m plastered to his side as he carries me like a child on his hip. Following a path I can’t see, he moves through the forest as if he’s done it a million times. Maybe because he has. I should be terrified. Not letting him carry me off to who-knows-where.
It’s like I’m the epitome of the “too stupid to live” girl from so many books. The ones that make me want to throw my e-reader against the wall.
Maybe that’s the problem. I’ve read too many romance books.
Had too many fantasies about the dangerous antihero with a soft heart, only for the heroine.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve lost my mind.
This isn’t a romance novel. He’s probably a serial killer hiding out in the forest, and I’m about to be his next victim.
Maybe being mauled by a bear would have been better after all.
“Please let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone I saw you. It’s too dark to even know what you look like. I just want to go back to my camp and pretend this didn’t happen.”
He stops walking and looks at me. And not just at me. It’s like he really sees me.
“Why would I care if you tell someone? You’re the one who doesn’t belong here.”
“You’re kidnapping me. I figured you wouldn’t want to go to jail.”
He cocks his head and chuckles. It’s a mesmerizing sound—deep and gravelly, and totally unexpected.
“Did you bang your head when you fell?” he asks after he stops laughing.
“Umm, I don’t think so. Why?” I ask suspiciously. Does he think I’ve lost my mind?
“Because you’re not making any sense. I’m not kidnapping you. You’re trespassing on private property. I want to know why you’re here so I can decide whether to turn you over to the sheriff. But first I’m taking you to my cabin so I can see how badly you’re hurt.”
“You’re not going to kill me?”
“No little one, I’m not going to kill you. But I have half a mind to put you over my knee and spank your ass.”
“You can’t do that. It would be assault.” But even as the words come out of my mouth, my insides flood with heat.
“I can do whatever I want. This is my mountain.”
My jaw drops. His mountain? Is he one of the Gallant brothers? So why does he think I’m a trespasser?
“You’re lying. I got permission from the owners of the mountain to be here. If you take me back to my camp, I will prove it.” Why is he being so unreasonable? I barely stop myself from kicking him. Except, I know it won’t go well for me if I do.
“We’re going to my cabin. Then we’ll see whether you’re telling the truth or not. You’d better hope you’re not lying.”
Gee, that’s not ominous at all. He wouldn’t really hurt me, would he?
I don’t know anything about this man. I don’t understand why I’m not scared of him.
I should be. It’s too weird. Like, I drove up the mountain yesterday and entered some kind of alternate universe with sexy mountain men who chase and kidnap women before taking them home. But then what? Frack.
“I can hear you thinking. Whatever you’re planning, forget it, or you will end up with a sore ass.”