Page 50 of Entangled with a Mountain Man

What if he doesn't want company? What if he thinks I'm overstepping?

"Damn, Kenz," I whisper to myself. "It's just coffee."

I tap lightly on the door, and a gruff voice answers immediately. "I smelled the coffee from the first drop."

I push the door open, and there he is. Everett is at his desk, staring at a computer screen bigger than my old TV back home. The blue light casts harsh shadows on his face, emphasizing the stubble on his jaw and the dark circles under his eyes.

"Brought you a cup," I say, holding it out like a peace offering. "Figured you could use it."

He looks up, and for a second, I see something flicker in his blue eyes. Something that makes my stomach do a little two-step.

"Thanks," he says, reaching for the mug. "But you didn't have to. You're here for the girls, not to wait on me."

I can't help the little snort that escapes me. "It's just coffee, Everett. Not a marriage proposal."

His eyebrows shoot up, and I immediately want to kick myself.

That's the way to relieve the tension, Kenz. Bring up marriage to the divorced guy on your first day.

But then the corner of his mouth twitches, just a little. "Fair enough. How do you take yours?"

"Two sugars, splash of cream," I reply, then add with a grin, "I like my coffee like I like my men – sweet, but with a kick."

This time, I definitely see a smile. It transforms his whole face, softening those hard edges.

"Noted," he says, taking a sip of his own coffee. "Black for me. I like it?—"

"Strong and bitter?" I finish for him, unable to resist.

He actually chuckles at that. "Something like that."

We lapse into silence, but it's not uncomfortable. I take the opportunity to really look at him, now that he's not scowling or kissing me senseless in a diner.

Everett Logan is a good-looking man, there's no denying that. His broad shoulders and chiseled jaw, with those piercing blue eyes that see more than I’m ready to expose. But there's a weariness to him, too, a heaviness that speaks of long nights and hard choices.

I take another sip of my coffee, letting the rich flavor linger on my tongue. Everett's watching me over the rim of his own mug, studying me with an intensity that should make me squirm.

But I don't look away. I meet his gaze head-on, arching an eyebrow in silent challenge.

The corner of his mouth twitches like he's fighting a smile. "You're trouble, aren't you?"

I shrug one shoulder, feigning innocence. "Me? Nah, I'm an angel."

He snorts, a deep, rumbling sound that sets the butterflies in my stomach fluttering. "Right. And I'm the Tooth Fairy."

"Well, you are awfully grumpy for this early in the morning," I tease, unable to resist poking the bear. "Maybe you need to work on your bedside manner, Mr. Logan."

His eyes narrow, but there's a glint of amusement there, too. "You're one to talk. I seem to recall a certain someone mouthing off to me in a diner not too long ago."

I laugh, the sound bright and genuine. "Hey, I was just defending my honor! That woman had no right to call me?—"

"A homewrecking whore?" he finishes, his tone dry.

I wince at the blunt words but nod. "Exactly. I may be a lot of things, but that ain't one of 'em."

Everett studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he sets his mug down on the desk, motioning to the chair in front of his desk.

I sit, and he leans back, giving me his undivided attention.

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