Page 6 of Lost with the Mountain Man

"I don't like to be around people anymore," I say as we roll to a stop. Before she can press me anymore, I hop off the four-wheeler and offer her my hand. "We're here."

The blueberry patch is massive and seemingly untouched by any forest critters. The bushes are bursting with ripe, juicy berries ready to be picked.

I watch as Charlie walks towards the bushes, her hips swaying gently with each step. I have to look away to keep from staring. She's not like the other women I've known. She's full of life and energy, like a bright light shining in the darkness of my solitude.

"These are the biggest, juiciest blueberries I've ever seen! Clara wasn't lying when she said they were worth the hike."

I grin despite myself, watching her excitement. There's something infectious about her enthusiasm. "Even worth banging up your knee?"

Charlie pauses and moves back to me with a handful of berries. "You tell me." She holds out a especially round berry.

Before I can help myself, I take it from her fingers and pop it into my mouth. The burst of flavor is enough to make me roll my eyes with pleasure. "Perfect," I say.

"Aren't they?" Charlie agrees, dropping some more in my hand.

I watch her full lips move as she eats the berries. The sight of it is erotic for some strange reason. I hope she doesn't notice my pants tightening, despite trying not to think about how her lips would look wrapped around my cock.

"Anyway, let's fill up your basket," I say gruffly. Mountain men like me aren't supposed to have a soft spot for blueberries and curvy women from town.

Charlie nods, heading back to the bushes with renewed vigor. I watch her for a moment, appreciating the view, before I join her. The berries are ripe, and they practically fall into the basket with little effort.

We work in comfortable silence, the sounds of nature surrounding us. Birds sing, leaves rustle, and the distant hum of bees reminds me that we're not alone in the wilderness.

After a while, Charlie breaks the silence. "You know, Rust, you're not so bad. Are you ever going to tell me why you're up here alone?"

I sigh. She's just not going to let it go. "Maybe you should have been a lawyer instead of a baker."

"Maybe," she laughs. "But the people in Darkmore need bread more than they need legal advice. It's peaceful. I like it."

I pause, watching her fill the basket with berries, and wonder if maybe life with other people might not be so bad, at least with her. I notice she's favoring her knee again, so I grab the basket from her. "Here, you sit. I'll finish up."

She looks like she's about to protest but thinks better of it and sits down with a relieved sigh on a nearby stump. She leans back and uses her hands to support herself, her legs stretched out in front of her. She winces slightly as she moves, and I feel a surge of protectiveness.

"You should take it easy on that knee," I say, crouching in front of her once I’m done picking the berries.

I can't help but notice how her shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of soft skin. I quickly look away, my body reacting to her nearness. "Let me see it."

Charlie lifts her leg, allowing me to examine her knee gently. It's still swollen, but the color is better than it was yesterday. I shouldn't have taken her out so soon. I might have delayed her healing.

"It feels better," she says, her eyes meeting mine. "You've been really good to me, Rust. I don't know how to thank you."

A hug. A kiss. Stay with me forever. Stay with me here up in the mountains, and you can have all the blueberries your heart desires– That's what I want to say. But I know better. A gruff bear of an old man like me doesn't deserve a sweet young woman like her.

"Don't worry about it," I shrug. "Just take care of that knee, and don't go wandering off the path again."

five

Charlie

“Iparkedatthelot just off the paved highway,” I say, not sure if Rust can even hear me over the roar of the four-wheeler engine. He must have modified it or something because it’s loud as hell.

Rust nods. He must know the place. It's a gravel lot that people use to park before going hiking up into the woods or, alternatively, teenagers use to make out and do whatever else I don't want to think about.

I hold tight onto Rust as we drive over the bumps. The closeness of him is driving me crazy. His woodsy, manly scent makes my body hot in ways it's never felt before. I can feel my heart racing, and it's not just from the thrill of the ride. It's from the way my body is reacting to him. It's like every nerve in my body is on high alert, waiting for the slightest touch from him.

It's insane, really. I barely know this man, and yet, here I am, practically melting into him. I'm a grown woman, not some lovesick teenager. But there's something about Rust that makes me feel alive.

As we come to a stop, I reluctantly let go of him, feeling the loss of his warmth instantly. I don't want to leave yet, but the blueberries are already beyond late, and my boss needs them. What was supposed to be one afternoon has turned into almost two days.

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