Page 12 of Hunted By the Mountain Man

I pause, rubbing my hand over my beard and making a scratchy sound. I don’t want to lie to her, but I had to sign an NDA along with my contract for her father. So, instead, I say, “To keep you safe.”

She twists her hands in her lap, looking crestfallen.

“What’s wrong? You didn’t like that answer?”

Brynn’s eyes flutter towards mine. “Want to hear something stupid?”

“Nothing you could say is stupid.”

Her bubblegum pink tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip and doing all sorts of wild things to my heart. “I was hoping you were interested in me.”

“I am interested in you,” I reply, shifting uneasily in my seat.

“No, I mean like attracted to me.”

“Attracted to you?” I repeat, running my hand through my hair as embarrassment heats my cheeks.

Her eyes dart to my face. “I’ve never seen you smile before. But I like it.”

“That’s because I don’t smile often, Brynn. I can’t honestly remember the last time.”

“So, I make you smile, then?” she questions hopefully.

I swallow loudly, not remotely ready for this conversation. “You make me do a lot of things I don’t normally, Brynn.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“For one, watch every fucking move you make … learn everything I possibly can about you.”

“Like what?”

“Like your taste in music,” I answer, nodding towards the radio.

“Yeah, but anybody could figure that out. I mean, all you’d have to do is pass me in my car when I have my music blaring.”

I nod. “I did plenty of times. More than you probably know.”

Her cheeks burn. “But what else did you find out about me?”

Inhaling sharply, I dive into an unfiltered account, making myself look like the ultimate creep. I expect Brynn’s face to harden, her voice trembling as she begs me to pull over and let her go. Instead, she’s got bedroom eyes when her gaze meets mine, all soft and sensual.

“One thing I can’t figure out is what you’re doing out here alone, traveling like this and living out of your car. You’ve got decent parents who are still together and had an uneventful childhood, from everything I researched. I don’t get it.”

The corners of her mouth turn down, and she takes a couple of deep breaths before explaining, “My parents are both very controlling. Total helicopter parents, especially my dad. He was in law enforcement, and so he’s uber-terrified of anything ever happening to me. I know they mean well, but they make me feel totally smothered, and they don’t understand my life decisions. Like foregoing college to become a yoga instructor and digital nomad. I don’t need them to understand my decisions to make them right for me. But I can’t put up with them trying to manipulate me through fear and guilt. That’s literally my worst pet peeve. Downright unforgivable in my book.”

“Unforgivable?” I grumble, swallowing loudly. Shit, I did just that earlier today at her father’s bidding. Would she ever be able to forgive me for that? I doubt it. Not that I could tell her anyway with the NDA.

“Yes,” she states firmly. “What’s unforgivable in your book?”

I narrow my eyes, grimacing. “Betrayal.”

She nods. “And how do you define betrayal?”

“Saying one thing and doing another.”

“Who hurt you?” she asks quietly as I drive slowly down the gravel driveway to my cabin, the final leg of this trip.

“Every fucking person I knew in childhood. And then, almost everyone in adulthood. To say I have trust issues is an understatement. That and abandonment issues.”

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