Page 3 of Made for the Mountain Man

I smile. This message came through right before Caroline threw her legal pad across the room when I reminded her that she insisted a formal presentation was unnecessary for tonight's meeting. I had to run to the copy place after that and never responded. I type out a quick message, hoping he's around.

Sorry. Work was terrible today. Pretty sure metal and fire need your full focus. Stop thinking about my , or ur going to hurt yourself.

I squish into my pillows, getting comfortable on my bed as I wait for his response, chewing my fingernail nervously. The sexy talk is fun, but I still get a little anxious every time I send something. Less so after some of the things he's sent me, but a part of me always worries he'll be grossed out by something I've said.

The first time I sent something dirty, I shut off my phone and computer for twelve hours before I convinced myself it didn't matter since he didn't know what I looked like or where I lived. When I booted everything back up, he'd sent me five messages, each steamier than the last. They still help me on lonely nights, wishing he was lying next to me.

I grin, biting my lip as his response comes through.

Brooks

Screw work. Baby, if I had your here with me right now, I'd bend you over my desk and make you scream my name until you . Come visit me. I'll make your day better.

Tempting.

Are you texting from the ER, or did you manage to keep your head on straight?

I think Brooks is a welder artist of some sort. We agreed in the beginning to keep any identifying information out of the conversation while we got to know each other. Over the last month, I've learned that Brooks lives in the town he grew up in, loves kids of all ages, and helps the high school athletes withtraining. Oh, and he's become my best friend, whom I’ll never meet in person.

I shake my head—another day's problem.

Brooks

Violet, I want you to come.

Yes, please. How would you do it?

Smirking, I reach into my bedside drawer and select my favorite toy. I’ve scoured my smutty reads to get better at sending Brooks sexy messages. I’m getting the hang of it, if I do say so myself, and he seems pretty pleased with what I’ve said. I blush, thinking of Naomi reading those, and remind myself to yell at her again tomorrow. The dirty talk doesn't usually ramp up this quickly, but I'm all in after the day I've had.

Brooks

No. Violet, I think it's time to meet. In person.

My heart plummets into my stomach, and I drop my vibrator like I've been electrocuted. I didn't think this day could get any worse. I shake my head and close my eyes, hoping that when I open them again, his request will have disappeared.

Brooks

I'll visit you, or you can come here. What do you think?

No, no, no!

I want to cry. What did I expect? The whole point of a dating website is to actually date at some point. In person. Face-to-face. I just wanted...more time. To become someone else.

Brooks

I'd love to take you on our official first date. [heart emoji]

Panicked, I slam my laptop closed.Damn it.

A ping comes through on my phone, and I glance at it anxiously, unable to resist. But it's an alert from my work email—a meeting invitation for first thing tomorrow morning with my manager and the head of HR. The meeting subject isPerformance Discussion.

The HR manager is a young guy in his thirties, and I could not be less attracted to him. For one, he spends too much time on his hair. Two, he's either boning my boss or wants to bone her. And three, I'm obsessed with a certain mountain man who possibly welds for a living, so nobody else compares. But that won't get my voice to work, so the discussion will most assuredly be one-sided. Which means I'm job hunting tomorrow afternoon.

The thought of unemployment barely registers compared to the devastation of losing Brooks.

As tears roll down my cheeks, I shove my computer to the side and curl into a fetal position. Pulling my bright pink quilt over my body, I sob into my pillow.

I'm a broken statue-woman.

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