1. Huxley
HUXLEY
“ L umber, new diamond drill bits, ten sheets of sixty-grit sandpaper, and enough screws to fill a bucket. Anything else on Wilder’s list?” I ask Cassian.
He’s staring straight ahead, watching the scenery pass by as we drive down the mountain on a supply run. My fellow ex-Army Ranger and friend has hardly spoken since we joined Wilder up here in the Smoky Mountains.
Cassian grunts and shakes his head no, just once. His face is as hard as stone, and the angle of his nose and chin is more pronounced, with his face half covered in shadows. That’s as good of an answer as I’m going to get, so I simply nod and turn up the radio.
Dust in the Wind by Kansas fills the truck's cab, and I can’t help the wry smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. How appropriately depressing. The familiar lyrics hit me differently after our last mission overseas.
Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind. Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea, all we do crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see.
An apt description of what all four of us felt after returning stateside for the last time. Wilder, Cassian, Elliot, and I went through hell and back to evacuate that town before more destruction was unleashed, and yet…
I inhale a deep, cleansing breath, taking in the trees and foliage lining the dirt road winding down the mountain. It’s stunning up here in the Smokies. It’s a harsh kind of beauty, softened only by the fog settling in the treetops.
We’re all here now, and that’s all that matters.
Well, almost all of us. Wilder, Cassian, and I sustained several injuries.
I required multiple surgeries, but Elliot had it the worst. The doctors weren’t sure if he would walk again, but he’s made amazing progress over the last several months.
He should be joining us soon, though he’ll still have to go to physical therapy a few times a week until he’s all healed up.
I drive past the first sign for the tiny town at the base of the mountain, chuckling to myself at the name.
Rock Bottom. I wonder if it’s a play on words because of its location, or perhaps named a hundred and fifty years ago, when that didn’t mean what it does today.
Either way, it seems the name foreshadowed what the town would become.
Aside from a bar, a general store that doubles as the shoe and clothing store, the post office, and a hardware store, there isn’t much holding this town together. Some residents are farmers and cattlemen, while others simply collect Social Security checks and spend them at the bar.
I’ve only driven through once on my initial trek up the mountain, but that’s all it took to understand it’s the kind of place where dreams go to die. I imagine it would be difficult for anyone to make their way out of this impoverished place with no opportunities and a failing economy.
Cassian shifts in his seat, and I know he’s getting restless. He doesn’t like being cooped up for too long. I get it. We spent years in close quarters, either in barracks or tents. When we weren’t crammed together inside, we were literally in the trenches together.
All four of us came back from the Rangers broken in different ways. Physically, we’re mostly healed, aside from Elliot. But emotionally? Mentally? I don’t know if we’ll ever recover. Or at least, I have doubts about my own healing.
Something that seems to trigger Cassian’s PTSD these days is cramped spaces. I was surprised he came with me on this trip, but I suppose he only did it because Wilder was preoccupied with his new woman, Ari, and Cassian knew I’d need some help hauling the lumber into the back of the truck.
I sure wasn’t expecting Wilder—the grumpy loner of an ex-soldier who had the crazy idea of moving out to the Smoky Mountains and buying an old mining town—to find himself a woman. I thought the whole point of building our own town away from society was to, well… be away from society.
Ari is sweet and caring, and she’s been good for Wilder; that much is clear.
He’s more stable, less of a grump, and genuinely content with his life.
I envy him for that. I still feel stuck in some kind of purgatory.
I haven’t quite left the military behind, at least in my mind, yet at the same time, I haven’t fully accepted my new life as a civilian.
Where does that leave me? Plastering a smile on my face while I help my friends adjust, that’s where.
I may have my own demons from our last mission, but Cassian needs me to be steady right now.
I have a feeling Elliot will also need a lot of encouragement.
He’s as bitter as hell, and he’s not quiet about it.
The dirt road ends at a stop sign, and I turn left onto a rough gravel road leading into town.
Ten minutes later, we enter Rock Bottom.
I see a coffee shop I didn’t notice before.
Maybe my initial judgments about this town were off.
The sign boasts five years of service and looks modern, as does the building.
Maybe this place isn’t as horrible as I first thought.
Main Street runs through the entire town, all twelve miles of it. All the shops are on the North end, which is closest to the mountain. I pull into Gregg’s Hardware, a little skeptical if they’ll have everything we need.
Cassian leaps out of the truck the second I put it in park, clearly anxious to get out into the open. He stretches his arms and rolls out his shoulders, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. I feel for him. War changed all of us.
I head inside the store, letting Cassian take his time outside.
I swing the front door open, triggering a tinkling bell above it.
Walking inside, I’m pleasantly surprised by the extensive inventory and how well the aisles are labeled.
I notice everything appears to be meticulously organized, which is another surprise.
I guess I also judged this place too soon.
I grab a basket and make quick work of our shopping list, minus the wood, which we’ll need to get at the lumber yard in the next town. As I head up to the counter, I get a whiff of a delicate, sweet scent. Like some kind of exotic flower or…
Holy shit. Who is that?
A woman is leaning against the counter behind the register, engulfed in whatever book she’s reading.
A few strands of her auburn hair come loose from where she had them tucked behind her ear, the deep reddish-brown in sharp contrast to her pale, porcelain skin.
From this angle, I can only make out the slight curve of her nose, the silhouette of her full, pouty lips, and the ample curves I’m trying not to ogle.
I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.
But goddamn… full breasts, wide hips, and from what I can see, thick thighs that would look good wrapped around my hips.
Jesus Christ, get it together, I scold myself.
Blinking a few times, I try clearing my head of those inappropriate thoughts as I approach the counter.
“Hi,” I choke out before coughing. God, I sound like I’m fourteen and just hit puberty.
The woman startles, dropping her book. “Oh!” she exclaims, a look of shock flashing across her emerald eyes. “Sorry,” she apologizes. The way she says it automatically makes me think it’s a habit. That doesn’t sit right with me, but I realize my possessive thoughts are completely out of line.
“It’s okay. It’s my fault for sneaking up on you,” I say with what I hope is a charming smile. It’s been a while since I’ve had a reason to smile, but I used to be someone who laughed and smiled a lot. I guess it’ll take some time to get back to that person.
“No, I shouldn’t have been reading on the job.
My dad…” She trails off, looking over her shoulder toward a door that I assume opens into a back room of sorts.
The woman hesitates, then decides not to finish her sentence.
“Anyway, I should have been paying attention,” she says, unable to meet my eyes.
I don’t like it. I find that I want her eyes on me at all times. How can I be this worked up over a woman I’ve spoken all of ten words to?
She starts unloading the basket I set on the counter, ringing up the items one by one. I open my mouth and then close it, wanting to say something, anything to get her attention.
“I’m Huxley,” I announce, my voice booming at a volume I can’t seem to control.
My hand moves on its own, reaching over the counter in what I think is supposed to be a handshake. Why am I so awkward? I used to know how to talk to people. That’s another skill I apparently lost to the military.
The woman winces slightly, and I want to punch myself in the face for scaring her. Then, the most magical thing happens; she smiles.
Sparkling green eyes meet mine, making my chest ache. “I’m Jordan,” she replies softly.
“Jordan,” I repeat. Her cheeks glow with the lightest shade of pink, making the freckles dotting her cheeks and nose stand out. I get the urge to kiss each one and then devour her sexy little mouth. Instead of doing that, I ask her how long she’s worked at the hardware store.
“For as long as I can remember,” she replies, huffing out a breath.
It makes her hair fan out over her face, and I have to shove my hands in my pocket to keep myself from sweeping it away from her eyes and tucking it behind her ear.
“My father is Gregg, as in Gregg’s Hardware.
His father was also named Gregg, and he’s the one who first opened this place. ”
“Ah, it was destiny then,” I tell her with a wink. Her cheeks turn from a pinkish hue to a darker red. I can’t tell if she’s shy or if she likes the attention. Maybe a bit of both. Interesting.
“More like the only option for income in a dying town,” Jordan quips, keeping her voice low, I assume, so her father doesn’t hear.
I chuckle, which makes the lovely, adorable, and irresistible Jordan smile up at me once more.
This time, her green eyes are peering at me in fascination.
I don’t know her story, but I can already tell there’s far more to this woman than working at her father’s hardware store.
I want to find out everything about her as soon as possible, but I get the feeling that would be too much for this precious girl.
“Either way, I’m glad you’re here,” I say.
She tilts her head, which is about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t know the last time I used that word or any of the words I used to describe Jordan. She draws them out of me without even trying. I already want to shower her in praise and see how far down that blush goes…
“Why?” Jordan asks, her brows furrowing in confusion.
“So we could meet,” I answer confidently.
Her eyes widen, and I worry for a moment I’m coming on too strong. I haven’t dated anyone since fuckin’ high school, so yeah, I’m a bit rusty.
My time in the Army Rangers kept me plenty busy, and I’ve never cared all that much about having a partner, a companion in life.
Relationships seemed like a lot of work, and from what I’ve seen, they usually end in heartbreak.
I didn’t understand until now. When it’s the right person, it’s worth the risk of a broken heart.
Besides, I’m not planning on breaking her heart. I want to protect it, keep it safe, and one day, when Jordan is ready, I want her to trust me with it forever.
Forever? Am I fucking losing it?
One look at Jordan, and I know I’m right. I feel it all the way down to the very core of me. She’s mine. Now I just have to convince her of it.
Just then, the bell above the door rings, and we both turn and watch Cassian enter the store.
He tips his chin up in the universal sign for Let’s get the fuck out of here.
I can tell he’s anxious to get back to the safety and solitude of the mountain, and we still have one more stop before we can head home.
Jordan finishes ringing me up, and I hand her my card to pay for everything.
I’m about to ask her for her number, or possibly for her to marry me right here, right now, when a man emerges from the back room.
He has the same green eyes as Jordan, though his are faded and tired.
The man is probably in his fifties, which makes me think this is her father, Gregg.
My woman stiffens, every muscle in her body tensing as she swallows hard. I don’t like it. No one should have that kind of physical reaction to their parent. I suppress the growl lodged in my throat. I already don’t like him.
“Jordan,” he clips out.
Her shoulders scrunch up to her ears and she closes her eyes as if waiting for him to reprimand her.
“Go in the back and finish logging the inventory from our last order.”
She pops one eye open, looking at me apologetically. I give her a reassuring smile instead of leaping over the counter and punching her father in the face. That wouldn’t help the situation. Plus, I get the sense it would scare my already shy girl off. I can’t have that. Not when I just found her.
I catch a glimpse of Gregg’s stern, disapproving look as he rakes his eyes over me. I give him a nod, though I want to flip him off.
With Cassian itching to get out of here and Jordan out of sight, I decide it’s time to leave. As I head out the door of Gregg’s Hardware, I’m already planning my next visit. No way in hell is this the last time I see Jordan.