Page 6 of Destined for the Mountain Man

“If it did, I wouldn’t keep talking to you for hours a day. I would have found one of the part-time mountain men that have sprawling mansions that look like cabins from the outside and only get used two weeks a year,” she teases.

“So when am I picking you up?” I ask.

“I’m going to take a plane, then a bus. Tuesday ... if that works, if not-”

“I’d prefer Monday, but that’s my impatience talking. Text me an hour warning on Tuesday, the location, and a picture of you and I’ll be there.”

“That’s one hell of a list, Grant. Are you planning something?”

“Yep. To test this 70% success rate thoroughly.”

She giggles and gets off the phone while I glance around my perfectly organized home. This is the real test. It’s part of the process the website encourages. Of course, the website encourages spending at least a month together, but if two weeks is what I get, I’m going to take it happily.

Chapter 5 - Charlotte

“This is insane,” I say for the sixth time since I left home.

I didn’t even video call Grant before running to him. I sent himapicture of me, meaning he’s seen two photos, and I have one. One I hope is recent and real because that’s the photo I’ve started to fall for. His deep, wonderful voice always makes me feel safe and warm, like any secret I have is welcome and won’t spread past his ears.

As much as I’ve wanted to be in his arms, tasting his laugh these last few weeks, it’s the kind of thing that’s easy to dream about but terrifying to face in reality. I consider staying on the bus as we near Aspenbrook, but I just ... can’t stop my feet when they edge me towards the aisle. I grab my bag from the overhead area, then walk to the door. I keep one hand on my backpack strap and my other hand on my duffle as I edge out of the bus and into the chilly April air.

The bus stop is in the middle of nowhere, which I guess lives up to the name, but ... there’s no one else here. Once the bus takes off, I glance at the forest, see a cardinal, red and beautiful perched on a branch and take a slow breath.

“Charlotte,” the same voice from my hours of phone calls says.

Turning around, I see Grant, exactly as he was in the photo, but so, so much bigger waiting on the other side of the road. I walk to him slowly, playing with my braid until he effortlessly takes my bags from me and puts them in the back of his truck.

He’s nearly a foot taller than me and so much broader, bigger, more muscular in person. Just ... gorgeous.

“You’re real,” I breathe as I stare up at him. He towers over me, his green eyes sure and steady, plus that deep voice and subtle smile. I take a step closer, nearly touching him, only to stop as my face burns. “Grant you’re ...”

He gently touches my braids, stroking over it and nods as his gaze softens. “I thought you were going to pounce.”

“I didn’t realize you were this big!” I laugh once and put my hand over my mouth. “There’s no way I’d be able to get my arms around you.”

“I can take care of that,” he promises, before his free hand presses against the small of my back and pulls me into a one-armed embrace.

He is warm, shockingly warm and despite all his dense muscle, he feels better than dropping into bed after a long day. I press my face to his shirt after hesitating a second and feel myself spiraling. I started the fall the second he called me and talked with me all night, but this is a free fall. He’s real, he’s right here, he’s holding me and is so much more than I ever anticipated.

“Grant,” I breathe.

He presses his cheek against the top of my head. “Now you’ll learn all my secrets.”

“I know you’re not a cat fish which is a pretty good start,” I tease as I look up at him.

But those warm eyes, the intensity rolling off him in waves that feeds my growing desire nearly chokes me. He strokes my cheek and walks me around his truck. “Lying is too much work with very little reward. I’m glad to see you’re real too.”

“Honesty is an important value for me, you know…” I murmur.

He nods, opens the door for me, and keeps my hand until I’m safely in the passenger seat. I’m pretty sure that if I gave him the chance, he’d buckle me up too. The thought makes me blush. The idea of his hands coasting over my breasts, along my hip, maybe dragging up the inside of my thigh to the hem of my shorts has my lower belly pulsing. I’ve never been so aware of someone else in my life.

When Grant gets in the driver seat, he puts the truck in gear, then takes my hand in his. It feels natural, effortless, like we’ve been doing this for weeks. I take a slow breath and try to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground instead of letting my mind run away with ideas.

“I bought bird feeders, set them up outside the back porch so you can watch them. I think I’ve been getting more squirrels than birds, so I might have to oil the poles. They’re clever assholes,” Grant says.

I glance over at him and grin. “I don’t think that’s very nice.”

“You clearly haven’t met these squirrels. They’re asking for war, sweetheart. They want to eat everything they know isn’t for them. Soon enough, they’ll be taking over the rabbits andthe raccoons too,” he says with that ever so slight smile and that softness in his green eyes.

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