Her Recluse Mountain Man (Mountain Men of Willowbrook Ridge #2)

Chapter 1

Tatum

I don’t think I’m asking for much when it comes to getting to my destination. Getting some fresh air and distancing myself from everyone else are the only two things on my list.

Yet Mother Nature seems set on making those things a difficult challenge.

Rain is pelting down from the sky in a heavy never ending wave.

My Honda has been sliding for the last twenty minutes, tires fighting for purchase on a road that’s quickly becoming a mudslide.

One wrong move and I’ll be tasting pine needles at the bottom of a ravine.

At this point, once I get to this cabin, I really am going to be stuck there.

The ad I found online promised enough food and water for an entire week’s stay. So if the rain wants to keep everyone else out, I am entirely on board. But first, I need to make it to my destination in one piece.

Squinting through the repetitive sideswipe of wipers, I try to pinpoint exactly where I’m at. On this mountain, every curve looks the same. The trees are nearly identical. Navigating all of these paths isn’t easy, especially when my GPS doesn’t know where I am, either.

Using my phone to the best of its ability, I continue my crawl up the mountain until finally, I see it. The cabin I’ve been drooling over for the last month. The one that has kept my sanity intact.

On the outside, it looks just as rustic as it did in the photos. No, maybe a little more weathered down. Either way, it’s perfect. Even if the inside doesn’t match what those photos captured, I don’t think a little disappointment will be enough to ruin this trip for me.

All I need is a week in solitude—just one week of peace and quiet. Without it, I might start pulling out my hair and go bald.

Parking my car, I put it out of its misery by cutting the engine. Enjoying the pitter-patter of rain for a few seconds, I let the realization soak in that I made it. My vacation is a mere twenty feet away. No thunderstorm is going to get in the way of my plans.

Getting out and immediately feeling the relief of cool water against my flushed skin, I have to fight the urge to just stand here and enjoy the difference.

With the size of the drops and how hard it’s coming down, it’s hardly surprising how quickly my clothing starts clinging to my limbs.

Up here, the air is cooler, even on a summer day.

I’m going to need a hot bath as soon as I’m settled. A fresh set of dry clothing, too.

Retrieving my luggage from the back and carefully avoiding the large puddles surrounding the land, I finally reach the porch.

The old wooden steps creak under my weight with each step I climb toward the physical form of my freedom.

Despite getting out of the rain, the cool air still bites at my bare skin.

“Where is that key?” Murmuring to myself, I’m leaving my stuff behind to look for my way inside.

The guy mentioned there’d be a lock box with a pin, but I don’t see one.

The only thing on this porch is a wooden bench, a plant that looks like it could use some of this rain, and a dirtied rug right in front of the door.

Maybe the last person put the key somewhere else? Not wanting to fight my cellphone’s poor service to call the renter just to find a key, I kneel and look beneath the rug first, hoping to find a spare. Surely, there will have to be one somewhere to play it safe.

Just as I flip it to the side and reveal a thick layer of dirt, there’s a loud creak in front of me.

The door is open, and from my view, I’m looking at some thick boots that are worn down at the tip. Lifting my gaze and following a pair of jeans that are torn at the knees, I swallow hard.

My brain and heart catch up as I hit flannel covering a bulky chest. Unsure what to think, my heart isn’t as confused as my brain. It’s pounding hard in my chest, banging around against my ribs as I finally meet the gaze of a man staring back at me.

Green eyes, the same shade of the pine needles, pin me in place. He’s staring at me like I’m an intruder. Like I’m the one who doesn’t belong. All lowered brows and a scowl cut so deep, I’m surprised he doesn’t start growling at me.

The wind howls at my back, like a warning given far too late. Rain lashes the porch, hitting that thirsty plant and the back of my shoes. I can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but exist, kneeling on the porch like an offering, while this mountain of a man fills my entire world.

Breathing in, I’m hit with the scent of sandalwood. Flooding my lungs, my head starts spinning.

This probably looks bad. Really bad. This guy is going to think I’m some kind of thief trying to break in! Did I get the wrong cabin?

Of course you did, Tatum. There weren’t any huge bearded men in the photos!

“Uh…”

He blinks at the sound of my confusion, and when he opens his mouth, his voice rolls over me—deep and rough and so low it vibrates in my chest. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Now would be the perfect time to explain this misunderstanding, but I’m currently at a loss of words.

I’ve just never met a man like this before.

Not up close like this. Not on my knees, either.

Just looking up at him makes him look that much bigger.

Not in a threat-like manner, but in a way that makes heat bloom across my cheeks and my sex clench at the thought of meeting him under different circumstances.

Telling him that I’m arguing with my legs to remember how to work would be really silly. Instead, I try to cling to a more logical response before I lose the ability to use my tongue, too.

Taking a breath, I swallow hard and kick myself into gear before this can go even further in the wrong direction.

“I know this looks pretty bad, but I think there was a mix-up or something.” Moving to stand, my limbs feel like those of a newborn calf. Underneath the weight of his stare, I bet he can pin down every nervous twitch and shift of my body. “You’re not renting this place, are you?”

Maybe there was a double booking, and this guy got here first. It’s a mistake that happens from time to time, I’m sure.

The snort he lets out makes me question if that’s the case. “I’ve owned it the last twenty years, the last time I checked.”

My stomach clenches again in response to his voice.

Instead of focusing on the low scratch of each syllable, I should be taking in his words.

Twenty years. Not only is he telling me that he’s much older than me, and so out of my league, but this place is his.

This isn’t the guy I spoke to online, either.

Not even close. I don’t even need to remember the profile picture of the guy to realize it.

Thunder growls at my back, and the rain pelts down even heavier.

So loud that I’m forced to pick up my voice.

Pulling out my phone, I tap nervously at the device as I try to explain my situation.

The screen is wet, just like the rest of me.

Without a good signal, everything is loading so slowly, too.

Despite his scowl, he’s patiently waiting for me to get my act together. Though he’s still staring hard. Watching so closely, like he’s searching for a lie to be told. He won’t find much, because under his gaze, there’s no way I could muster up anything but the truth.

“Sorry, I swear, I have it.” Tapping my phone, hoping the loading bar will keep trudging along instead of lingering on the same spot, I hear him grunt in response.

I can’t even lift my eyes away from my phone. Not when I get hit with a swarm of emotions. By now, I should be used to things not going my way.

Willowbrook Ridge was supposed to be a breakaway from all of the bad. One last reckless decision so I can enjoy myself for a week before throwing myself to the wolves. This was supposed to be the fresh air I desperately needed.

By the time my email is finally loaded, I realize his scowl has cut even deeper. Not on my phone, but at me. He’s taking in my panicked expression, his dark brows pinched together. Not wanting to imagine what kind of thoughts he’s thinking, I thrust the device toward him.

“Is this not your cabin?”

His fingers brush against mine to grab my phone, far bigger and more calloused. The tingle I get up my arms is a momentary relief to everything else swarming me. As he peers at the screen, I see the moment he truly gets angry. Behind his gaze, heat flares.

My stupid stomach needs to stop clenching. Now, I can’t tell if it’s because of fear or something else entirely.

“Must’ve been someone who snagged a photo of my place. The inside is all wrong.” He hands my phone back and tells me the exact words I’ve been fearing. “You’ve been scammed, sweetheart.”

Not even the way he purrs the nickname is enough to stop the dread from filling my chest. Scammed? I know I was desperate to get away, but I put my last two paychecks toward this getaway vacation.

“What am I going to do now?” The question leaves me without thinking, and I follow it up with a hushed apology. Technically, this guy doesn’t have anything to do with the mess I’ve mixed myself up with. He’ll have to get the advert taken down, sure, but he’s not the one at a loss.

“They’ve got a lodge a little further up, but…” He takes one look at my mud-caked car before taking in the weather. “You’ll be lucky to keep going uphill at this rate.”

Not that it matters. I’ve got enough chump change to get me through the week for snacks and such, not enough to rent another place.

“Can I just… sit for a second and collect myself? This is a lot.”

My chest feels like it’s going to cave in on itself.

Throw in the fact that my eyes won’t stop freaking watering from the pure frustration that’s hitting me.

I’m not going to cry. I won’t, because at this point, life’s annoyances and the accompanying bad luck have exhausted me to the point that this should hardly affect me.

Must be extra effective since I have an audience.

He steps out of his home and nods. Standing over me by at least a foot, those calloused fingers pinch at my elbow and lead me over to the bench. For him, he swallows up more than half of it. There’s just enough room for me to sit, but not without the occasional brushing up against him.

That sandalwood scent that’s clinging to him is soothing in a way. If I close my eyes and keep breathing him in, I can pretend things are a little different than what they really are.

“I’ll report the account once I get better service.” Murmuring the words, I sit back and watch the rain come down. “You think the rain will stop anytime soon? It was awful getting up here. With my luck, if I try to go back down now, I’ll end up sliding off the path.”

Okay, maybe I will cry. Just a little. I won’t know this man after this, so I don’t need to worry about holding back. Worst case, he’ll have a story to tell his other mountain buddies.

He doesn’t answer at first, his brows still furrowed as he drinks in the same scene.

Finally, he sighs. “You paid for a week?” When I nod, his mouth purses.

“I’ve got a spare bedroom. Just a small thing for my brother to use when he needs to get away, too.

It’s not much, but I can give you a bed to sleep in. ”

Blinking, I digest his words. It’s hard to believe them. While I didn’t sign up to be roommates with a man like this, I’m not thinking straight. My inner voice is shouting yes without really thinking about what he’s offering me. If something sounds too good to be true, there’s always a catch.

“I don’t have anything I can give you. Not money, not really. But I can do other things. Whatever you want, really.” Perking up, I go as far as grabbing one of his hands as another wave of emotions hits me. These are lighter, yet still consuming. “This is…”

I can’t even think of a word.

His throat bobs as I squeeze his fingers before he politely plucks himself free. “You can stay, but I’ve got some rules. Follow them, and there won’t be any problems. Maybe not for an entire week… but until this storm passes. How about it, uh…”

“Tatum.” Sputtering my name and feeling silly that I haven’t already told him, he follows up by giving his name.

Abel. “Rules? Got it. Lay them down, and I’ll make it work.

Thank you, Abel. Seriously. You’re a lifesaver.

You’re amazing. This is…” My lungs swell with air, and I get a little dizzy.

Just as I feel one of his hands steady me by grabbing my shoulder, my smile stretches from ear to ear. “Thank you.”

He leaves the bench first, drifting to grab my luggage. Lifting it as if it weighs nothing, he pushes open his door and jerks his chin. “Come in before you catch a cold. Can’t enjoy yourself if you get a fever.”

My body is already moving on its own. Feeling like my luck may be turning around, I try not to get ahead of myself too much.

Not knowing anything about Abel or the rules he may have, my breath of fresh air could turn sour at any minute. I’ve got to keep my guard up a little, right?