Page 4 of My Forbidden Mountain Man

Didn’t really think to remember the small details, not when she does the same song and dance over and over again.

“So listen, sorry to drop on you without warning, but I lost your number some time ago.” Sucking on my teeth, I try not to kick myself at the reminder. “Anyway, I’m looking for a place to crash until I can get on my feet again. A week or two tops, I swear. And if I remember right, you did tell me your place would always be an option.”

I always kept his offer at the back of my mind as a last, desperate option. Well, I’ve hit it. There’s no going back.

“Violet.”My name drags itself out of his throat, low and rough, like an avalanche of boulders tearing down the mountainside.

The sound of it does things to me—sparks a slow, crawling heat that licks down my spine, pools low in my stomach, then settles, thick and insistent, between my thighs.

Fuck.

“I get it if my mother burned the bridge between you two, but I don’t have much of a choice here. Please. Just long enough to get back on my feet.” I hate the crack of desperation in my voice, and I don’t mean to use it as a method of getting my way.

However, it’s what makes a sigh form in the pit of his chest before it comes rumbling out.

He takes one deliberate step back—just enough space to let me through, not enough to avoid contact. The heat of him burns through my jacket as I brush past, intentional as can be.

Even as the heavy scent of pine floods my senses and makes my head spin, I don’t let it stop me from entering the last place I remembered as being safe and comforting.

For the first time in days, relief floods my system, and I can feel the mental weight of exhaustion come crashing down.

“Take a seat. I’ll need some time to get a room ready for you.” He motions to a couch that looks far too comfortable in front of a fire that is crackling low and soothing.

I don’t argue. Instead, I abandon my belongings at the door, kick off my boots, and thank him softly before he disappears deeper into his cabin.

2

Logan

She shouldn’t be here.

Fuck. No. I never thought I’d see her again, not in person.

What happened?

She smells like cigarette smoke has tangled between the threads of her outfit. A tank top and plaid skirt, making her look like a cosplaying catholic school girl after a busy weekend.

The holes in her pantyhose only make me wonder what she’s been up to since the last time I’ve seen her.

Six years is a long time, and despite the different hair color and the added curves to her figure, she carries the same brown eyes I remember.

The only difference is that the last time I saw them, they were full of life. Now, they’re empty. Void of anything.

“You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” Following close behind me, my back flexes when I feel the light touch of her fingertips. “Seriously.”

Grunting, I lead her deeper into my home. I don’t think I’ve changed much over the years she’s been away. If anything, my home feels emptier.

Jaclyn took more than half of my belongings in the divorce. I just wanted her out. Living by myself, I never minded the bare walls or empty shelves. All I wanted was quiet, and that woman made sure to give it one way or another.

Violet’s looking around, her curiosity blooming. I can see it in her eyes, the way she’s trying to figure out what she’s missed out on.

The short answer is a lot, but at the same time, hardly much at all.

Once Violet left to follow her dreams, a glaring hole formed in my relationship with Jaclyn, and it got shaky. The divorce was messy, but not as bad as it could have been.

If Jaclyn knew what I’d been doing…

I told myself I was keeping a close eye on Violet because I was a caring stepfather. She was a shy bird taking her first flight out into the cruel world. Initially, I showed my support by attending a handful of her nearby shows.

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