Page 11 of Entangled with a Mountain Man

"I'm sure Miss Duncan is just fine," I reassure them, even as doubt gnaws at me. "Let's not worry about grown-up problems, okay? How about we focus on those milkshakes instead?"

Their faces light up at the mention of the promised treat, and just like that, the tension dissipates. But as I watch them chattering excitedly about their chocolate shakes, an uneasiness burns in my gut.

Axton catches my eye, his expression serious.

"We need to talk," he mouths.

I nod. Whatever's going on with Ian and Paige, it's bigger than just small-town drama. And if it involves Kenzie...

I shut down that thought, trying to clear my thoughts. Why am I so fixated on this woman I barely know? She's asking for trouble, getting involved with a married man, and bringing her kind of drama to our quiet town.

And yet... I can't get her out of my mind. The way she maintained during that altercation with Paige, her gentleness with the twins, the quiet strength in her eyes...

"Everett," Axton's voice breaks through my reverie. "You still with us, man?"

I blink, refocusing on the present. "Yeah."

Axton raises an eyebrow, a knowing look in his eyes. "About a certain new arrival in town, perhaps?"

I scowl. "Drop it."

He holds up his hands in surrender, but the smirk on his face tells me this conversation is far from over. "Whatever you say, brother."

As our milkshakes arrive and the girls dive in with gleeful abandon, I try to push thoughts of Kenzie, Ian, and all the accompanying drama to the back of my mind.

But even as I watch my daughters' faces smeared with chocolate and grins a mile wide, I can’t shake the image of Ian kissing Kenzie from my mind—a flash that makes my blood boil and my protective instincts flare. He’s always been the spoiled brat, trying to play tough, but I know better.

This situation gives him another strike in my mind. Ian's still a snake in the grass, and a small part of me is almost looking forward to getting his ass out of Silver Ridge for good.

3

JUDGED

KENZIE

I fold the last towel and place it neatly in the basket, taking a moment to smooth out the wrinkles. It's become a ritual of sorts—finding order in the chaos, a way to keep my mind from spiraling.

After a week in Silver Ridge, I'm still trying to understand how my life took such a sharp turn.

The door creaks open, and Steph pokes her head in, that warm smile already putting me at ease. "There you are sugar. Got a minute?"

"'Course," I say, returning her smile.

There's something about Steph that radiates kindness like she has an endless well of patience and understanding. No wonder she runs this place.

She steps into the laundry room, her hands tucked into the pockets of her faded jeans. "I've been meaning to ask—have you thought about what you might want to do while you're here?"

I pause, considering her words. Truth is, I haven't let myself think much past getting through each day. The plan was to get to Silver Ridge, find a job, and save enough to move on. But after that disastrous first night...

My cheeks flush at the memory of Ian's overbearing kiss and Paige's scathing words echoing in my mind. Homewrecking whore. But ain't no use dwelling on the past.

"I'm happy to keep helping out here however I can," I say finally, meeting Steph's gaze. "Just point me where you need me."

She nods, seeming to consider her next words carefully. "Well, I was thinking... if you're looking for something more permanent, we could use an extra set of hands over at the consignment shop."

My eyes widen at the unexpected offer. "The shop? You mean... like a job?"

"Well, it ain't much," Steph admits with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Mostly just helping sort donations, keeping things tidy. But it's honest work, and it'd give you a chance to leave the shelter for a bit."

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