Page 6 of Rough Mountain Man

I’d summed up the past few years in just a few sentences, like they were no big deal. They were definitely a big deal. The extra money had come from my dad, who had a ridiculously pricey life insurance plan.

A couple of years ago, he died in a car accident. In my grief, I’d had no idea what to do with the money he left me and Mom. I set her up in a nice condo in Cleveland and looked for places to escape. It all seemed to come together. The money, the need for a fresh start, my exit from the military, and the opportunity in this rapidly growing town.

“How long have you been open?” she asked.

I’d briefly gone to a dark place, but it seemed I’d been able to hide it. She was still eating her BLT like nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Four months,” I said.

I’d moved up here and worked on the logging crew with my buddies while I got it started. I didn’t need the money. I just wanted to get to know the people and the town before I launched my business. Besides, it took time to get the place going, even after I’d secured the lease, bought the equipment, and started construction on the interior.

“It’s a good time of year to start a new business in this town,” I said. “I’ll have all the kinks worked out by the time ski season arrives.”

“And there’s something in the fall too,” Gennie said. “That’s what I read online.”

“I’ll definitely need more help,” I said. “You could come work for me.”

I tossed her a teasing smile. There was no way she’d take me up on that. She was here to find her friend, and then she’d be leaving town. But the thought of having her here permanently lit me up in ways I couldn’t have expected.

“Sounds fun,” she said. “But I have a job. Not exactly glamorous. I work in corporate law as a paralegal.”

That meant she probably went to an office every day. Or maybe not. If she worked from home, there might be hope of getting her up here.

What was I thinking? Why would I want her up here? It wasn’t like I sought a commitment or anything. The opposite, in fact.

“I did my fair share of retail work in high school and college,” she said. “Clothing store in the outdoor mall. A T-shirt store. And in college, I made chocolates in this little candy shop.”

“We have one of those in the shopping center across the street,” I said.

She smiled. “I might have to get my chocolate fix.” Her smile suddenly faded. “I’m a horrible friend.”

Now I was frowning. “Why would you say that?”

“Here I am, enjoying my lunch and talking about chocolate while Vanessa could be handcuffed and blindfolded and being tortured in a basement somewhere.”

“These cabins don’t have basements.”

That was my answer? Really? I wasn’t going to try to make her feel better about things?

But the whole thing just seemed laughable. I wanted to take her seriously, but at the same time, I could easily reassure her that no man in this town—not one I knew, anyway—would harm a woman. The opposite. We’d defend her against anyone coming to town to cause harm. That was just who we were.

“I’m guessing if your friend is handcuffed and blindfolded, it’s probably by choice,” I said. “And she’s having a damn good time.”

Shit. Had I really just said that? I sucked at this.

But instead of responding with shock, Gennie now wore a confused expression. “Why would she choose that?”

Oh great. Now I had to explain.

“You know.” I shrugged. “BDSM?”

Wasn’t that what it was called? Or just S and M? M&Ms?

“You mean like…kinky stuff?” she asked. “Sexual?”

Of course, that was what I meant. She was twenty-three. She’d know about this stuff by now. I told myself that, but there was something unsettling about it all.

Was it possible she was more innocent than I’d expect from a twenty-three-year-old? And why did that idea cause my dick to stir just a little? The thought of this woman being untouched was embarrassingly arousing to me.

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