Page 14 of Possessive Mountain Man

She wins again.

This time, she leans back in her chair and arches an eyebrow. “Well, well, well. Looks like you’re on lunch duty, Carter.”

I shake my head. “Hope you like canned soup and grilled cheese.”

“Like it? I love it.”

I move around the small stove, pulling out supplies from cupboards. Elise leans against the counter, watching me with open curiosity.

“Do you always cook like this?” she asks.

“Like what?”

She lifts a shoulder. “With such quiet determination.”

I flash her a grin. “Only when the stakes are high.”

She laughs, and I realize just how easy it is to be around her—how natural it feels. Like I could do this every day and never get sick of it.

While the sandwiches grill, she wanders back to the table and picks up a carving of a bird I was working on earlier. She turns it over in her hands.

“Do you ever sell any of the things you make?”

I shake my head. “They’re just for me. The streaming sucks up here. It passes the time.”

She smiles, setting the bird back down. “You’re good at it.”

“Thanks.”

We eat lunch sitting on the floor by the fire, plates balanced on our knees. The heat from the flames making the air heavy and warm.

She chatters about her plans for the fall, about the classes she’ll be teaching. I listen, letting her voice wash over me, soaking in every bit of it.

Because I know, deep down, that this can’t last.

Not with who I am. Not with who her father is to me. Not with the life she has waiting for her.

But sitting here, watching her laugh, her hair tumbling around her face, it’s easy to forget all the reasons I should stay away.

It’s too easy to imagine a different life. One where she’s here, not to shelter from a storm, but for good.

One where mornings are filled with her laughter, where days are spent playing checkers and sharing quiet meals by the fire.

One where she’s mine.

I set my empty plate aside and lean back on my hands, watching her.

She catches me staring and raises a brow. “What?”

“Nothing,” I say, my voice rough.

But it’s not nothing.

It’s everything.

And it terrifies me how much I want it.

The fire crackles low, the flames casting a soft orange glow over the cabin.

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