Page 31 of The One With the Mountain Man

Her grin was instantaneous. "Sure did. Growing up, my parents would have to drag me off the boat or the beach. I'd get lost in the nature preserve and they'd tell me one day I'd be a gator's snack. My mom, she's not from the island, and she's never really synced up with our Florida island ecosystem. She doesn't understand that gators are pretty easy to understand."

I felt like I'd said almost the same thing a dozen times about mountain climbing or bears or spending ten days alone on the Trail. "I understand exactly what you mean."

She turned just her head, her eyes taking me in. "Do you have a home somewhere? A home base?"

"My truck is my home base."

"A professional outdoorsmananda professional road tripper."

She wasn't wrong. "I like being able to pack up and move down the road whenever I feel like it. The outfits I work for know who I am and that I'm temporary. I work all up and down the Appalachian Mountains at places like ODX, or if one of Digger's contacts needs an extra hand on a job site, I'll work construction from time to time."

She held in a laugh. "And who is Digger?"

I scratched my neck, feeling a little sheepish. "Sorry. For some reason I keep forgetting we don't actually know each other."

Her gaze softened but she didn't say anything to that.

"Digger is my other best friend. He runs Lost Creek's one and only construction company with his dad. You should know there's a fourth to our crew. Scottie owns the bar in town. Still Standing Saloon. We all grew up together and we're kind of like brothers."

Her eyes went all sad again and for the life of me I couldn't figure out what I kept saying to trigger it. I wanted to pull her into my arms and apologize, then kiss her until she forgot everything.

She cleared her throat. "That must be hard, what with you gone all the time."

I simply hummed because the answer was too hard, too complicated. "We make it work." A silence stretched between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward. The only thing I didn't like about it was the distance between us. "If I ask you what you do, what brought you here, are you going to kick me out?" If she did, I'd leave, but I really hoped she didn't.

Marley looked me over again and I wondered what it was she saw in my faded jeans and worn boots. Did she see a fuckup wanderer or something else? Maybe I'd get her to tell me one day. For now, she took a long swig of her beer and clicked her tongue. "I'm assuming you don't watch too much television."

"No, not really."

"I'm a writer. The last thing I worked on was a docuseries calledTaking Tampa. It's about the women's soccer team there."

A television writer? "What's a docuseries?"

"It's like a reality show but done more like a documentary. And it's ongoing. They're starting to film season three now."

"But you're not working on it anymore?"

Another long swig. "I only helped with the first two seasons as a favor to a friend. I've been pushing off another project for a while and now it's put-up or shut-up time. I have to finish it."

The stress was back. Her eyes had lost all that shine, her smile was gone, and her body practically vibrated.

I hated whatever this job was. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She tilted her head, her beer bottle resting against her lower lip. I wanted to be that bottle, to finally feel how soft those lips were. I wanted to kiss her until all that stress melted away permanently and all she ever did was laugh and smile.

Her eyes moved over me. The shadows pulled back as curiosity took over. And, if I wasn't mistaken, she found me at least marginally attractive, based on the way her gaze lingered on my lips before darting back up to meet mine.

She smiled and I got the distinct impression I had just passed some sort of test. "You can have dinner with me."

Eleven

Marley

I like your mess

I was nervous,which was why I cut my finger while slicing carrots. Butwhywas I nervous? It wasn't because I didn't trust Jackson. It wasn't because I needed his approval or something odd like that.

No, I was nervous because the more I got to know him, the more I wanted to know everything.

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