Chapter 2
K evin
Getting Tonya's Mercedes unstuck had been a nightmare. My truck's tires spun uselessly in the mud for twenty minutes before I finally managed to winch her car to solid ground. By I was soaked to the bone and covered in mud from head to toe.
She wasn’t much better off. Sitting rigid in my passenger seat, arms wrapped around herself, her teeth chattered so hard I could hear them over my engine. Her clothes were ruined, and she looked smaller than ever in my massive truck.
We rode to my house in silence, the storm raging around us. Lightning illuminated the mountain in stark flashes, and thunder rolled across the ridges like artillery fire. This was going to be a bad one—the kind that knocked out power and made the mountain roads impassable for days.
My place sat on the highest ridge, a restored 1800s structure with modern solar panels and a wraparound porch. I'd spent five years making it perfect. It was my sanctuary, my castle, the place where no one could hurt me or my brothers.
And now I was bringing a stranger inside.
I pulled up the driveway and killed the engine. "We're here."
Tonya looked through the windshield at my home, her eyes wide. "You live here alone?"
"Yeah." I watched her take in the three stories of weathered stone and timber, the massive windows that looked out over the valley, the careful landscaping that blended with the natural forest. "Problem with that?"
"It's just big. For one person."
Too big. I'd built it with dreams of filling it someday—wife, kids, the family I'd never had growing up. But those dreams had faded over the years, replaced by the reality that women like the ones I wanted didn't stay with men like me.
Women like her.
"Come on," I said, getting out before I could think about it too hard. "Let's get you inside before the power goes out."
I came around to help her down from the truck, but she was already struggling with the door handle. The truck was built for someone my size, and she could barely reach the ground from the running board.
Without thinking, I put my hands on her waist and lifted her down.
The contact shot through me like electricity.
She was so small in my hands, so soft and warm beneath the oversized flannel.
For a second, she was pressed against my chest, and I could smell her shampoo underneath the scent of rain and mud.
She smelled expensive and feminine and completely out of my league.
She gasped, her hands flying to my shoulders for balance. Through the wet fabric of my thermal shirt, her touch burned like a brand. I set her down quickly, stepping back before I did something stupid. Like kiss her. Or throw her over my shoulder, carry her inside, and never let her leave.
"Careful," I said. "Everything's slippery."
She nodded. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink. Whether from cold or something else, I couldn't tell.
Inside, the house was warm and dry. I'd left lights on in the main room.
It was a large, open space with vaulted ceilings, exposed beams, and the stone fireplace that took up most of one wall.
I had comfortable leather furniture, handmade rugs, and shelves full of books.
It was the kind of space designed for long winter evenings and quiet contemplation.
Tonya stood in the doorway, dripping on my hardwood floors, looking completely out of place in her muddy outfit and my oversized shirt.
"Bathroom's upstairs," I said. "Second door on the right. There are towels in the linen closet."
"My clothes are in the trunk in my suitcase." Her voice was small, uncertain.
"I'll go out and get it.” It would give me a chance to unhook the Mercedes from my truck. I’d also see about getting it towed to town to see if Jerry could perform miracles and get it working again. “Go get cleaned up."
She hesitated, then nodded and headed for the stairs. I watched her go, trying not to notice how cute she looked.
Don't think about it. Don't think about her naked under the shower spray in an area big enough for both of them.
Too late.
TONYA
Kevin's bathroom was bigger than my Manhattan apartment. I peeled off my ruined clothes and stepped under the hot spray, finally allowing myself to break down.
What the hell was I doing here?
I was showering in a remote mountain house with a man who looked like he could snap me in half without breaking a sweat.
A man whose dark eyes seemed to see straight through all my defenses.
A man who made me feel things I'd never felt before—things that scared me more than being stranded in a storm.
Michael had never looked at me the way Kevin did. Like I was something he wanted to devour. The thought sent heat spiraling through me that had nothing to do with the hot water.
I stayed in the shower until my skin was pink and wrinkled, using his soap that smelled like cedar and sandalwood. The masculine scent that reminded me of how it felt when his hands were on my waist, lifting me like I weighed nothing.
When I finally left the bathroom with thick, fluffy towels around my body and hair, I saw that Kevin had brought up my suitcase and left it outside the door. He had left an enormous pair of wool socks and a fleece hoodie.
I got changed in the bathroom, happy to put on my comfy jeans and a T-shirt. I hadn’t wanted to tip off Michael by dressing like it was a weekend when I had left this morning. I was even happier for the thick socks and the hoodie, even though the hoodie came down past my knees.
Downstairs, I found Kevin in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove that made my stomach growl.
He'd showered and changed too. He wore faded blue jeans that were snug on his remarkable ass and a dark blue sweater that stretched across his massive shoulders.
His dark hair was still damp, I stared at the way it curled slightly at the nape of his neck.
"Feel better?" he asked without turning around.
"Much. Thank you." I hovered in the doorway, suddenly uncertain. "What can I do to help?"
"Nothing. Sit."
"I could—"
"Sit. Down." He turned to look at me, and his expression softened slightly when he saw me drowning in his hoodie. "You look like you're about to fall over."
He wasn't wrong. The adrenaline crash was hitting hard, leaving me shaky and exhausted.
I sank into one of the chairs at his kitchen table, watching him move around his domain.
Kevin Pike was not what I'd expected a hermit mountain man to be.
His kitchen was spotless and well-equipped, with copper pots hanging from hooks and a spice rack that would make a chef jealous.
He shuffled around the space like someone who actually enjoyed cooking.
"Beef stew," he said, ladling a rich and fragrant broth with chunks of meat and potatoes into two bowls. "It’s nothing fancy, but it'll warm you up."
The first spoonful was like heaven—tender beef, perfectly seasoned vegetables, herbs I couldn't identify but that made my taste buds sing. It was comfort food, the kind of meal that made you believe everything would be okay.
"This is incredible," I said around another spoonful. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"
"Necessity." He sat across from me with his own bowl. "Either learn to cook or live on frozen dinners."
"Michael never..." I stopped, realizing what I'd been about to say.
"Michael?"
Heat flooded my cheeks. "My ex-fiancé. He didn't like me cooking. Said I was too clumsy in the kitchen."
Kevin's jaw tightened. "Ex-fiancé. Recently ex?"
"This morning." The words came out before I could stop them. "I called off the engagement via text, and left New York. That's why I'm here."
He studied me across the table, those dark eyes seeing too much. "You broke up via text because you’re afraid of him."
It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway. "Yeah.”
“Did he hurt you?”
I shivered at Kevin’s tone. “No, not physically. He never hit me. He just controlled everything. What I wore, where I went, who I talked to. He said it was because he loved me, because he wanted to protect me."
"That's not protection. That's possession."
The quiet fury in his voice made me look up. But he wasn’t angry at me. He was angry on my behalf. I felt my fears melting away. This big guy was a protector, a teddy bear. Not a monster, no matter how grumbly he seemed at first.
"He made me believe I couldn't take care of myself," I continued, the words spilling out like water through a broken dam. "That I was too helpless, too fragile. Too stupid to make my own decisions."
"You drove here alone. From New York. That’s pretty brave."
"And look how that turned out." I snorted. “My car broke down and I got stranded in a storm on the first day."
"You left him. That took guts."
Did it? Or was I just running away like a chicken?
Before I could spiral further into self-doubt, the lights flickered and went out.
KEVIN
The power outage wasn't unexpected. These storms were hell on the electrical grid.
"Is that normal?" she asked, her voice sounding small and lost in the dark.
"Yeah. Happens all the time up here." I got up to light the oil lamps I kept ready for occasions like this. Golden light flickered to life, casting dancing shadows on the walls and turning the kitchen into something from another century.
Tonya looked like a fairy tale princess in the lamplight, all soft curves and wide eyes. My hoodie hung loose on her frame, but somehow that made her look more vulnerable, more in need of protection.
"Power might be out for days," I said, settling back into my chair. "Storm's not done yet."
"Days?" She bit her lower lip, a gesture that made my blood heat. "I should call someone. Let them know I'm okay."
"You probably won’t get cell service until the storm passes. Who would you call?"
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, looking lost.
"There's no one, is there?" I said gently.