Page 4 of Made for the Mountain Man

Life is passing me by.

And worse. I'm losing my sexy mountain man soulmate.

Chapter 2

Brooks

"Cassie's on the phone." My office manager, Veronica, pops her head around my office door, rapping her knuckles on the door frame.

I shake my head at her, silently mouthing, no.

Veronica nods once and heads back to her desk. If anyone can keep Cassie at bay, it's Veronica. Veronica is five foot nothing but doesn't take any nonsense. I wish I'd listened when she warned me Cassie was a user.

Distracted and moody, I pick up my phone for the millionth time since last night, staring at my blank home screen.

Still no response from Violet.

When I didn't hear from her about my request to meet, I started to send a follow-up message letting her know I'd wait until she was ready. But the more I thought about it, the more Irealized I wasn’t willing to wait. I want her here with me every morning for the rest of my life.

From our hours of conversations each day for a month, I get the feeling she needs to be pushed to take risks. She hates her job, and if what she tells me is true, most people would have quit months ago. But she stays for an unknown reason and expertly skirts around the subject whenever I ask. So, instead of understanding and giving her more time before we meet, I bite my tongue and hope she comes around.

And if she doesn't?The horrible thought niggles at my brain.

If she doesn't, I'm done with the dating website. I'll die alone on the side of a mountain, miserable for all eternity because the love of my life refused to take a risk on me.

So...there's that.

I sound dramatic. What’s wrong with me? I'm usually the guy who avoids drama like the plague.

The truth is, something is wrong with me. I've fallen in love with a woman online, like some quirky romantic comedy. She's funny and smart. A little shy, but once she's comfortable, this sexy woman emerges who, I know with every fiber of my being, will be the mother of my children someday. I have no idea what she looks like, but I don't care. I know her soul. And it's beautiful.

Or I've been catfished for a month.

I throw my phone face down on the desk with an irritated huff and attempt to respond to customer emails.

Two hours later, I'm in the middle of a weld on a private piece when the purple shop light blinks off and on. That's Veronica's way of safely getting my attention when I'm focused on a project. I turn off the welding machine and lift my mask as Veronica opens the door to my workshop.

"I'm sorry, Brooks," she starts, grimacing as Cassie breezes past her into my workspace.

"Brooksey!" Cassie saunters over to my work table in her tall heels, batting her eyelashes at me like I give a damn.

"Cassie. I'm in the middle of a project. What do you want?" Two months ago, Cassie showing up in a tight little skirt and using her pet name for me would’ve made my day. Not anymore.

"Brooksey, why do you pretend you don't want to see me?" She pouts, leaning over my table in an attempt to get me to look at her cleavage, which is on full display.

"I don't want to see you," I respond matter-of-factly, looking her dead in the eyes. I refuse to play this game.

Cassie narrows her eyes at Veronica when she snorts from the doorway.

"I have a few clients looking for an extra special art commission, and I was going to send them your way, but maybe I'll take them somewhere else?" Cassie stands with her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow and giving me a sultry grin.

I grit my teeth. Cassie's a successful interior designer in the area, designing vacation homes for wealthy people who only visit a few times a year. It's how we met a few years ago. I designed some intricate metal art pieces to hang over fireplaces and entryways. Word spread quickly, and I've made a decent living on commissioned pieces I ship all over the world.

After working with mutual clients, Cassie asked if I wanted to take her out. I decided maybe I should. I've never been good at making the first move, and she seemed friendly and fun.

Over the next month, I took her to dinner about once a week. It was nice getting to know someone. She flirted with me, touched my arm, and laughed at all my jokes. Cassie tried to get me to take her home the first night, but I told her no. I'm a little old-fashioned. I like to get to know someone first. She said she appreciated that about me. The more I thought about her proposition, the more I realized I’d spent so much timeconvincing myself I was happy alone that I failed to notice how lonely I really was.

On our sixth date, Cassie left her phone on the table while she went to the restroom. She told me she was waiting for a response from a client about commissioning one of my pieces, so when a text message came through, I didn't think anything of glancing at her phone.

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