Page 6 of Mountain Man's Redemption

Garrett cuts me off. “Don’t need to see anything. I want you to do it, Daphne.”

“Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say yes.”

My heart is skittering, excitement buzzing through my veins.

Is this really happening?

This handsome mountain man really wants me to paint for him?

“Yes,” I say, beaming at him. “I’d love to paint your cabin.”

Garrett shoots me another one of his barely there smiles, but to me, it feels like the biggest grin in the world. Before I can bring up the subject of payment, he offers me twice what I would usually ask and silences all my objections with a stern look. Then he reels off his address, and I hurriedly tap it out on my phone.

“When do you want me to start?” I ask a little breathlessly.

“As soon as possible.”

“How about tomorrow morning?”

Garrett nods. “Perfect.”

I planned to spend tomorrow handing out my resume around Cherry Hollow, but with the sum Garrett just offered, I can afford to wait until after I finish the painting to find a job. His commission will pay for furniture and give me some much-needed breathing room before my next rent payment is due.

“Can’t wait to get started,” I say. “Thank you so much, Garrett.”

He shrugs. “No need to thank me. Thanks for agreeing to do it.”

God, I wish I could throw my arms around him.

If I were braver, I’d do it.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” I smile at him, hoping he can’t see my feelings written all over my face.

“See you then, Daphne.”

My name is a deep growl in his voice. I want to hear it again, but Garrett is already retreating down the stairs and out the door. I hurry to the window and watch as he climbs into a battered pickup before driving up Main Street and out of sight. When he’s gone, I hold up the blue glove he returned to me and beam at it.

“I owe you big time.”

4

GARRETT

Morning sun filtersthrough the windows as I take a sip of strong coffee, running an agitated hand through my hair. I barely slept last night. All I could think about was seeing Daphne again, and the memory of those pretty curves left me tossing and turning for hours.

When I returned her glove yesterday, I didn’t have a plan. But after looking into her eyes again, I knew I needed more. So I lied. When she mentioned being an artist, I couldn’t resist…made up some shit about wanting a painting to hang over the mantel. It was just another excuse to see her again.

Fuck, it doesn’t make any sense.

Ever since I left prison three years ago, I’ve wanted nothing but solitude. Then I met Daphne, and now I’m paying hundreds of dollars for a painting I don’t need, just to be around her. Hell, I guess it’s kind of pathetic. But after what she said about having no furniture, I wanted to help her. I didn’t like the thought of her in that empty apartment, struggling to make ends meet. A commission seemed like the perfect solution—a chance to see her again and help her out at the same time.

But as I get dressed and ready for Daphne’s arrival, I feel a growing pit of apprehension in my gut. If this girl knew thetruth, she wouldn’t want anything to do with me. Why would she? I’m an ex-convict. A felon.

No doubt she’ll find that out, eventually.

Cherry Hollow may be beautiful, but it has gossips just like any other small town. Eventually, someone will mention my crime to Daphne, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

---