Strength of the Mountain (Curves in Hope Mountain #4)

Chapter 1

HAYDEN

My left foot tap-tap-taps against the ugly orange carpet as I take another swig of stale coffee.

I grimace at the bitter liquid with an aftertaste of styrofoam, but at least it brings me back into the present moment.

I’m not overseas on my last mission; I’m in a meeting room in the Hope Mountain Community Center.

“Would anyone else like to share?” the leader asks the group.

The group counselor, Allen, peers around the circle of veterans, most of whom shift in their chairs or stare up at the ceiling.

His dark brown eyes land on me, and I cross my arms over my chest reflexively.

“How about you, Hayden? This is your fifth week attending the Veterans’ Support Group, but we haven’t heard anything from you yet. ”

My entire left leg is bouncing up and down with tension, which is only amplified by every pair of eyes in the room focusing on me. I stare at the clock hanging on the back wall and try to gather my thoughts.

I know I should say something. Anything. But when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. The words are lodged in my throat like shrapnel, slicing into my being and cyphoning the air from my lungs.

The room suddenly feels too small; the lights buzz and are far too bright, and even though it's silent, the deafening roar of unmet expectation reverberates through my eardrums to the point of pain. I shake my head, hating the pity I see in Allen’s expression.

I abruptly stand up, nearly knocking over the uncomfortable metal folding chair I was sitting in.

Allen nods, knowing I need some air. I hate that I’m like this.

Everyone tells me talking about it will help, and I don’t disagree.

I just can’t seem to pull the words from the depths of my darkness to even begin to explain the fucked up shit going on in my brain.

The cool metal of the door handle grounds me as I push against it and free myself from the stuffy meeting room.

Leaning against the wooden doorframe, I tilt my head back, close my eyes, and take a few deep breaths.

My brain is fuzzy and my ears pop, making me lightheaded. Inhale. Exhale. Again. Once more.

The world slowly takes shape around me, the vibrating lines becoming more solid as I come back into my body.

How did I become this pathetic person? I’m a soldier.

Or, at least, I used to be. I ran toward danger, not away from it.

That was over three years ago, however. Now, I can hardly stand to be in public for more than thirty minutes without shoving a spoon in my ear.

I thought I had moved past the panic attacks and general awkwardness, but being back in my tiny home town of Hope Mountain has put me on edge.

It’s my own damn fault. I thought I could outrun my demons, or at the very least, distract myself with freelance security work.

When I’m on a mission, even if I’m just a bouncer at a club, I can push all the other bullshit to the side.

Now that I’m here, all the unwanted memories have free rein to terrorize me day and night.

A soft, sweet, honeyed laughter fills the air, the sound fluttering into my consciousness and easing the pressure building up in my chest. My eyes snap open in search of the source.

I take a few steps forward, peering into the room across the hall from where I’m standing.

It’s where people drop off their kids before attending the various events and support meetings held here at the Hope Mountain Community Center.

Tables are set up with various craft supplies and projects, and kids are chasing each other around and generally having a good time.

The same laughter floats through the hallway once more, wrapping itself around me and filling my lungs with sweet, crisp air.

It’s like I can breathe for the first time in…

I don’t even know. Forever, I guess. When I see who the sweet laugh belongs to, my heart crashes against my ribcage, causing me to rub the heel of my hand over the spot to ease the ache.

Hazel eyes light up when they meet mine, framed in dark lashes that match her long, silky dark brown hair.

The woman is wearing a crown woven from wildflowers, and the warmth radiating from her smile is enough to make me break out in a sweat.

She must be a volunteer for the day care here in the community center.

The longer I stare at her, the more I observe.

Everything about this woman is adorable, from her slightly flushed cheeks to her pastel purple fingernails.

Even the bright blue polka-dotted dress and pink ballet flats drive me wild with the need to know more.

Her button nose, full lips, and multi-colored eyes draw me in, and I’m making a considerable effort to ignore the swell of her generous breasts.

She’s curvy as hell, but still tiny in comparison to me.

The little lady has to be no more than five feet and a couple of inches tall, which gives me the insane urge to scoop her up and carry her with me all damn day.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I take a step forward, as if pulled by some magical force, my eyes never leaving hers.

She tilts her head to the side, making a few strands of hair fall across her delicate features.

My fingers twitch with the need to brush them out of her face so I can have an unobstructed view of the floral goddess.

Someone tugs on her skirt, drawing her attention away from me.

The kid has tears in his eyes as he wipes glue and hot pink glitter on the fabric of her skirt.

Instead of getting frustrated at the mess, the woman smiles and kneels down so she’s face-to-face with the child.

She says something and points toward a piece of construction paper next to the boy, then gasps in excitement when he shows her the chaotic, rather ugly drawing he’s working on.

It’s dripping in glue and copious amounts of glitter, hence the sticky fingers, but the woman looks at it as if it should be displayed next to the Mona Lisa.

She gasps in delight and begins praising the artwork, which is an impressive feat.

I’m not sure what she could possibly say about it that’s good, but she’s trying her best to build up the boy’s confidence.

Watching the kid beam up at her in pride does something to me.

Shifts something deep in my chest. Opens up a space that I’m not sure I’m comfortable with.

Before I fall under her spell any further, I take off toward my truck in the back parking lot.

I’m not sure what the fuck that was or why I was so affected by her presence.

It must just be because I’m feeling raw and vulnerable after my support group meeting.

Yes, that has to be it. What other explanation is there?

My phone rings as soon as I get in my truck, and I fish it out of my pocket, staring at the screen. It’s my sister, Lily. She usually calls after my weekly meetings to check up on me. I know she worries, but she shouldn’t. I’m back home now, which is what she’s always wanted.

“Hey, Lils,” I answer.

“Hey! Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I have a lasagna in the oven and Heath is working on the garlic bread as we speak.”

It’s still weird to hear my little sister talk about my best friend, Heath. They’re together now, and while I know he loves her and will protect her, I’m not used to seeing them be all lovey-dovey and gross.

“Uh… Well, I…” I rack my brain for any excuse, but I’ve got nothing.

“We’d love to have you over,” she continues, knowing I’m trying to back out.

“Isn’t it so great that we’re both in Hope Mountain now?

You can drop by for dinner whenever you want, or I can pop over to your place if I have a question or book rec for you.

It’s perfect. I missed you so much, you know. ”

I smile even though she can’t see it over the phone.

“I know. I missed you, too.” I love that Lily is happy.

She deserves all the good things this life has to offer.

Never thought my oldest friend, Heath, would be the one to give her the world on a silver platter, but I’ve mostly gotten over the initial shock.

“Thanks for the invite. I’ll be over in a little bit. ”

Lily squeals in excitement, which makes me grin. It’s been a long damn time since I’ve been the source of her joy. I caused her so much anxiety when I was deployed, and then again after the incident I don’t talk about that got me medically discharged from the Army.

I thought I was protecting my little sister from having to deal with my moody, depressed ass by keeping my distance and going from one security job to the next, but I failed her in that department, too.

I wasn’t here when she needed me the most, when someone working for the evil real estate company, Top Spot, broke into her bookstore and flooded the place.

It was a complete disaster, and if not for Heath, I don’t know how far things would have gone.

She has him now, and he’s been good for her, as hard as that is to admit.

Both Heath and Lily encouraged me to move back to Hope Mountain permanently, and after hearing about Top Spot Reality’s shady games and aggressive tactics to buy up this town, I agreed.

Besides, the fucker who sabotaged my sister’s bookstore still hasn’t been caught after nearly two months.

There’s no way I’m leaving here until he’s brought to justice.

“Hello? Still with me?” Lily asks.

“Yeah. Can I bring anything?”

“Nope! I’m just so happy to have you over. It means so much to me that you’re really here, Hayden.”

“Love you, Lils.”

“Only you get to call me that, you know?” I can just see her scrunched-up nose and eyebrows as she scolds me.

I love my little sister and I am glad to spend more time with her.

It would kill her to know how restless I am and how I’ve hardly slept since moving back, so I keep those details to myself.

“I think I’ve earned the right,” I tease. “See you soon.”

We hang up, and I tilt my head back, rolling my shoulders and taking another deep breath. It’s already starting to get darker outside, thanks to the changing of the seasons, and I observe people spilling out of the community center as they head to their vehicles.

One person catches my eye, and I watch the woman from earlier lug a rolling suitcase, presumably filled with craft supplies, out to her car.

She’s still wearing the wildflower crown, and something about that makes the corner of my lips curl into a smile.

Without having spoken a single word to her, I know she’s genuine in her devotion to crafts, kids, and volunteer work.

I tell myself I’m only observing her to make sure she gets to her car safely. Since we still have a vandal on the loose, we all need to be more vigilant and watch out for our neighbors. As a former soldier-turned-bodyguard, it’s my duty to watch out for the people in this town.

Even as I think the words, I know that I care about her safety more than most others. Why, I haven’t figured out quite yet, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not like I would ever act on those initial feelings of attraction.

I don’t deserve a relationship, nor do I want one. My scars run deeper than the marred flesh of my left leg, and it would kill me if I lashed out at someone I love. That’s why I kept my sister at arm’s length for the last three years.

Going to the weekly veteran’s support meetings hasn’t healed me from my past. If anything, I simply know enough to know how truly fucked up I am. It wouldn’t be fair to bring someone else into my darkness, and certainly not someone like her… whatever her name is.