Page 8 of Her Mountain Man Grump

“You okay?” he asks. “Want to take a break?”

I can’t help but smile. He must have asked me that ten times since he arrived this morning. He came over first thing to bring me breakfast—pancakes, muffins, and a flask of coffee—as well as a stack of clean clothes for me to wear, borrowed from his sister who lives nearby. I’ve barely lifted a finger in the hours since he got here. Every time I try to help, he insists he’s got it and suggests I take a break.

“No, I’m fine,” I tell him. “I just feel a bit useless. You’re paying me to help you, and all I’ve done this morning is hold stuff in place while you work hard.”

Brody contemplates me for a moment, then hands me the hammer. I wasn’t allowed to use tools in Scourfield, and the weight is unfamiliar in my hands. I grip it tight, trying to hold it the same way Brody did, and I feel him shift behind me, moving closer. A moment later, his giant hand wraps around mine, sliding it down the handle of the hammer.

“Hold it here,” he murmurs, his voice making me shiver. “Keep your wrist relaxed.”

He’s so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body, hot against my back. I want to melt against him—let his powerful arms envelop me—but I force myself to focus.

“See that nail?” Brody points. “It’s not in all the way.”

Gingerly, I tap the protruding nail with the hammer. Then again.

“Harder. It won’t break.”

This time, I hit the nail with more force, hammering it all the way into the wood.

“Perfect,” Brody says. “You’re a natural.”

I turn around to face him with a smile, my heart stuttering when I see how close we’re standing. Brody towers over me, his eyes like a summer sky, burning into me with an intensity that steals my breath away.

Oh, God…

I want him. My desire runs bone-deep, flooding through my veins like lava as I stare into his ruggedly handsome face. The world seems to melt away, dissolving to nothing as Brody’s gaze flits down to my mouth. He leans toward me slightly, the scent of fresh pine enveloping me as he moves closer, closer…

Knock knock.

I stagger backward, instantly on alert as I look toward the front door. Someone is knocking.

Did he find me?

Is my father on the other side of the door?

I struggle to breathe, my lungs squeezing tight. Brody notices my panic and rests a firm hand on my shoulder, his brows knitted with determination.

“You’re okay,” he tells me. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

I nod, but as he heads toward the living room, I duck behind the bedroom door, keeping out of sight. My heart lurchesunpleasantly as I hear Brody’s footsteps reach the front door. He wrenches it open, and the bang makes me jump. I clamp my hand over my mouth, trying to keep my breathing silent.

I’m not going back.

Father can’t make me.

I’ll kick, scream, and fight if I have to…

Then Brody speaks.

“Oh. Tanner. Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

My body sags, and I let out a shuddering groan of relief. Brody mentioned Tanner yesterday—he’s the mountain man who’s been helping renovate the cabin. Straightening up, I force my trembling legs to carry me into the living room. The man on the doorstep is a giant—even taller than Brody—but he gives me a friendly nod when he sees me.

Everything’s okay.

Father isn’t here.

But it’s a long time before I stop shaking.

---