Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Luke
For the third day in a row, I can’t find the file I need. Not because it’s not here. I know it’s here. I just don’t know where.
I’ve torn my office apart, and I still can’t find it.
Tessa’s voice has started to play in a constant loop in my head. Piles aren’t a system. It’s chaos.
Worse, I’m starting to believe she might be right.
The amount of time I waste looking for the files that should be right where I left them is starting to become problematic. Even if I hate to admit it.
And I do.
I really do.
“Dammit.” I straighten, take a deep breath, and scan the chaos again. “I don’t need help.” I scrub my hand over my face and tug my beard, not really sure who I’m trying to convince. Myself or the mess that once again is proving I’m a liar.
I built this company from the ground up.
When I was still in the service, I started investing some of my own money.
Twenty dollars here, fifty there. I liked the challenge of doing something so different.
Something that involved researching the companies I wanted to invest in, crunching numbers, and taking educated guesses.
Something where it was just a few dollars on the line, and not someone else’s life. It felt less risky, and somehow that made it kind of fun. For the first time, my decisions weren’t life and death; they were just financial. And that felt a whole lot less important.
Even after I started increasing the amount of money I was investing, it still felt safer.
After all, it was just money. Maybe it was the fact that I didn’t feel the pressure of investing that helped me make those good decisions early on?
Maybe I just had a knack for it? I’m still not sure what it was, but whatever it was, it worked.
Soon, my military brothers were asking me for help with their money.
With a few good decisions, and maybe a little bit of luck, I turned our meagre investments into something substantial.
That first big windfall was when we bought all the land out in Iron Peak.
It felt like we were buying the whole mountain, and between the five of us, we almost did.
We were young and idealistic, and our time in the service hadn’t damaged us…yet. We were full of plans to retire with our pockets full of money, build our dream houses, and move our pretty little wives up to the mountain and raise families together.
We were such idiots back then.
I shake my head with the memory. Life hadn’t worked out that way. Not at all. What we hadn’t counted on was how our time in the service would harden us. Turning us into grumpy, withdrawn versions of those young men full of hope and excitement for the future.
My marriage with Cheryl had fallen apart, some of the other guys didn’t even bother trying to find women who would put up with them. Those who didn’t have any better luck than I did. When we did finally get discharged and move out to the mountain, we’d all done it alone.
All but Sawyer, who’d stayed.
The rest of us lived scattered around the mountain, alone with our demons, barely even coming together despite our proximity. That’s the way it had always been for almost two decades.
Until Holt met Tessa.
Things were changing now.
But that didn’t mean I had to. And it certainly didn’t mean I needed an assistant. Besides, even if I wanted one. It’s not like there were a lot of qualified candidates in Iron Peak. People didn’t come here. Not even for holidays. And they most certainly didn’t come here for employment.
Outside, the wind rattles the windows. November is cold, and winter is already starting to settle in so high up. We’ve had a few snowfalls already, but nothing serious.
Not yet.
I know enough to know it could be any day when we get the first blizzard that shuts me off from the rest of the world for a while.
Just one more reason why I’ll never be able to find an assistant.
Not that I want one.
The sound of tires crunching the gravel outside pulls me from my circular thoughts. I go still and listen.
It doesn’t sound like Holt’s truck, and Tessa rarely drives her car up this far. It’s not Cal or Beck, and Sawyer hasn’t been up to Iron Peak in months.
There is no one else.
I walk over to the window and pull the curtain aside enough to look out.
A small SUV sits next to my truck, engine idling. I don’t recognize it, and it looks wildly out of place. The type of SUV that’s built for the city, not a gravel road. And definitely not for a mountain road.
The driver’s door opens, and I freeze.
The woman who sets foot in my yard is bundled in a coat that’s probably not nearly warm enough. Her dark hair whips around her head in the wind as she looks around, no doubt trying to figure out where she took the wrong turn that led her to my place in the middle of fucking nowhere.
When she turns toward the house, I see her face for the first time.
She’s gorgeous. And young.
Way too young to be up this far alone. The mountain isn’t a safe place, and it’s definitely not the place where you want to be lost and alone.
I push away from the window with a muttered curse.
Looks like I’m going to have to give her directions.
Hopefully, she’s not too far off track. There are only a few hours of daylight left, and the tiny town of Iron Peak doesn’t have much in the way of accommodations. At least none I’d recommend to anyone.
I grab my coat from the hook by the door, prepared to head her off before she can knock on the door. Preferably before she gets up on the porch. I’m not one for company. Not even the temporary kind.
I yank open the door, the wind immediately rushing inside.
The woman stops at the bottom step, clearly startled. Her eyes widen as they land on me.
Up close, she looks even younger than I thought.
She looks like a student, a young woman of Tessa’s age.
Her hair is dark, almost black, which makes her pale skin look almost like porcelain.
Her eyes are a startling blue that stands in stark contrast to the rest of her face, giving her an innocent, almost doll-like quality.
“This road’s private,” I say, my voice rough. “You lost?”
For a second, she just stares at me, stunned. Then she swallows hard and straightens her shoulders. “I’m looking for Luke Morgan.”
Everything in me goes still. No one looks for me. Not up here.
Anyone who needs me is usually a client, and they know better.
When I don’t answer, she clears her throat and tries again. “Are you?—”
I don’t let her finish. Instinct takes over before reason—or manners—can take over.
I step back inside and shut the door in her face.
Conversation over.
No one shows up here by accident. And I’m not in the habit of entertaining surprises.
Lilly
It takes me a second to register that he just slammed the door in my face.
In shock, I turn around slowly and take in my surroundings.
I’m literally in the middle of nowhere.
I followed Tessa’s instructions perfectly. Besides, it’s not like there were a lot of turns I could have missed or taken by accident.
There is no doubt that this is the right place.
Luke Morgan’s house. Which means…the man who just slammed the door in my face is my new boss.
I straighten my shoulders, take a deep breath, and push down all of the uncertainty, because there is no room for it right now. Even if the man who just slammed the door on me is the biggest, scariest-looking beast of a man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
I literally have nowhere to go and nothing to lose.
I march back up to the door and bang on it. When there’s no answer, I call out, “Luke Morgan!” Still no answer. “My name is Lilly Burton,” I say, injecting confidence I don’t quite feel. “Tessa sent me,” I add. “She told me to?—”
“What?”
The door flies open so fast, I’m knocked off balance. I step back quickly, catching myself before I can stumble backwards.
I straighten quickly, smoothing my jacket like that might somehow restore my dignity. “Luke?—”
“What did you say?” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.
Up close, he’s even more intimidating. And sexy as hell. At least he would be if it were any other situation.
He’s a solid wall of muscle, a thick beard hides his mouth, but his dark eyes are sharp with suspicion. He’s easily a foot taller than me. Everything about him screams control and restrained violence, like a predator deciding whether I’m a threat or a nuisance. Or both.
I refuse to shrink.
“Excuse me?” I shake my head and force myself to remember to breathe. “I was just explaining why I’m here.”
He waves his hand, like he doesn’t have time for what I’m saying. “Who did you say sent you?”
“Tessa.”
The change is immediate.
It’s not dramatic, but I see the way his hard edges soften. There’s a flicker in his eyes that replaces the pure hostility from a moment ago.
He even takes a half step back, as if he might actually let me inside.
Relief loosens something in my chest. Until I keep talking.
“She hired me.”
The softness vanishes as if it were never there to begin with, replaced by something colder and far more dangerous.
“She did what?
His voice drops, quiet in a way that suddenly feels a whole lot more threatening than before.
“She hired me,” I repeat, forcing the words out evenly. “To be your assistant.” His expression goes completely blank. In a rush, I continue. “I just graduated with a finance?—”
“No.”
The single word lands like a slammed door all by itself.
“I know this might be a little bit?—”
“No,” he says again, sharper this time. “Absolutely not.”
My stomach dips, but I hold my ground. I have no other choice. “Tessa told me you are a very successful financial advisor with a lot of clients and maybe you’re a bit overwhelmed lately and?—”
“I don’t need an assistant.”
“I’ve already signed the paperwork, and I’ve relocated to?—”
“You did what?”
I gesture vaguely to my car that contains everything I own. “My things,” I say lamely. “They’re in the car. I’m prepared to start immediately.”
His gaze flicks past me for the first time, taking in my packed car, the suitcases visible through the back window. Something dark flashes across his face.
“Unbelievable.” He shakes his head and tugs on his beard. “She had no right to?—”
“She was trying to help,” I say quietly. “She’s familiar with my skill set and?—”
“I don’t need help.” His eyes lock on mine. Cold and dark. “If my daughter is so familiar with your skill set, she can hire you. There’s nothing for you here.”
Before I can react or think of my next argument, the door slams.
This time, it feels final.