Page 1 of Rough Mountain Man

1

GENNIE

My best friend was in trouble, and I had no idea what to do about it. So, I was…shopping?

That weird thought occurred to me as I wandered around the charming shopping enclave at the base of the mountain. Some part of me was sure I’d run into her here. We loved little boutiques, and there was the perfect one at the entrance, just across from a pancake restaurant called Short Stack Shack.

“Damn it, Vanessa,” I said as I passed a bakery.

I looked down at my phone—no response to my text. I’d driven all the way up to the top of this mountain and back down again. I looked in driveways for her car and even checked out the parking lot of the ski lodge that was the main attraction in this town. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

“You need some moonshine?”

The voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and my head whipped up. I was prepared to give a curt no. I was in no mood to deal with cheesy sales pitches. But the woman was around my age and had a huge smile.

I didn’t know why I was so surprised to see someone in her early twenties in this mountain town. Of course, the people working here would be younger. I just assumed it would be all tourists and reclusive dudes with long beards and grumpy dispositions.

“I’m looking for someone,” I told the curvaceous brunette. “Maybe you can help me.”

The brunette looked back over her shoulder. Behind her was a shop filled with liquor bottles. In the center was a long bar with only one person standing behind it. A hot, hot,hotguy.

I pulled out my phone without taking my eyes off him. The screen was already on, and Vanessa’s picture was still up, so all I had to do was turn it and show her. I held my breath, hoping for signs of recognition.

To her credit, the smiling employee tilted her head and seemed to give it a serious examination. Then, slowly, she straightened her head and shook it.

“I’m new to town, though,” the woman said. “My uncle opened this place. He’s training me on handling the tastings, but I’m not quite ready yet. You might ask him. He’s lived here for a few years. He’s right there, behind the counter.”

“Thanks,” I said, pocketing my phone.

A couple was trying to get around me, so I needed to make a decision. It couldn’t hurt to ask the guy. I just hoped I didn’t have to taste any moonshine. That sounded disgusting.

So, taking a deep breath, I headed in, comforted by the fact that the couple behind me would probably join me. I’d ask my question and move out of the way.

As I approached the long counter, I got a good look at the guy standing behind it and nearly tripped over my own feet. He was beyond gorgeous. He was, without a doubt, the most handsome man I’d ever seen. But he looked completely unfriendly andunapproachable, which was surprising for someone who worked with the public.

Oh wait—the employee mentioned her uncle owned this place. Maybe he was training her to do the tastings because he didn’t want to deal with them anymore.

“I’m looking for someone,” I said, trying to be quick.

He probably had paying customers. Hell, I’d pay a massive fee if he’d just tell me where my best friend was.

“My friend came to town to work. She’s staying in a rental cabin up in the mountains. She met a guy, and now I can’t find her. I’m worried she’s in danger.”

His expression didn’t change as he took all that in. I couldn’t read what he was thinking at all. He looked like someone you wouldn’t want to mess with. Someone who would punch a guy in the face for looking at him sideways.

But somehow, I wasn’t scared like I normally would be. No, if I had to put a word to what I felt when I looked at him, it was intrigued.

He said nothing. He was silent so long, I started getting nervous. I was one of those people who had to fill the silence, even if it meant sounding like a blabbering fool.

“She’s my age,” I said. “Really pretty. And she said the lumberjack she met was super-hot. All I know is he lived next door to a rental cabin. They just met over the weekend, and it’s been four days, and I haven’t heard a word. I think he might have kidnapped her.”

Ugh. Now that the words were out, I realized how ridiculous they sounded. My friend had gone off the radar for a few days—that was all. She’d met a guy and fallen in love, that was all.

But it wasn’t like her to go off the radar for days at a time. Even hours at a time. It was unprecedented. I was right to be worried. I just wasn’t sure that what I was doing about it made any sense at all.

“I came up here looking for her,” I said, pulling out my phone again. I unlocked it and turned it to show him her picture.

To his credit, he did lower his gaze to it and stare at it for a long moment before shaking his head. “Nope. Never seen her. I’m going to need to see some ID.”

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