Page 3 of Adored By the Mountain Man

“Don’t need to hear them,” he says flatly, stepping toward the door. “I have no interest in dealing with people or kids. Especially not other people’s kids.”

“Please,” I say, trying to stop him from slamming the door in my face. “I know this isn’t your thing anymore. I get it, but I’m asking anyway because I’m desperate. This camp means everything to me. I’ve worked my ass off to bring it to life. I’m not asking you to move to town or hold hands with campers. I just need you to help me make it through the next few weeks until I can find another wilderness instructor who does love working with kids.”

His jaw ticks, but he stays silent.

“I pay well,” I add. “And I bring coffee. And snacks. Who doesn’t love snacks?”

He still doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t close the door either. Whether it was the mention of snacks or my desperate begging, I don’t know. All I do know is that I still have a shot at convincing him.

Chapter Two

Harlan

“I have enough snacks. Sorry, can’t help you.”

I shut the door harder than necessary, the sound echoing through my modest cabin. I lean against the door and close my eyes, trying to reclaim the peace I had before she showed up here unannounced. I live alone for a reason. If I wanted to meet people, I’d head into town more often. Why would I suddenly be interested in helping a bunch of city kids rough it in the woods? No, thanks.

I push away from the door with a grunt and head into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge, even though it’s barely past noon. The bottle cap hits the counter with a metallic ping, and I take a big swig, trying to wash away the image of Callie’s wide, determined eyes and her nervous smile that was somehow crazy adorable and made my heart skip a beat.

The beer doesn’t work. I still recall the image of her standing on my porch, all earnest desperation and stubborn hope. The way she kept talking even when I made it clear I wasn’t interested. The way she mentioned her brother Archer like it was some kind of magic password that would make me give a damn.

I move to the window and peer through the blinds. Her beat-up Honda is still in my driveway, and she’s sitting with her head resting on the steering wheel like she’s trying to figure out hernext move. She looks small from here. Defeated. Her problems shouldn’t be my problems, but a pang of guilt still hits me straight in the gut.

She lifts her head and stares straight ahead for a moment, then pulls out her phone. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I can see her shoulders slump further with each word. She’s calling to break the bad news to someone. Maybe to those kids’ parents she mentioned.

The thought hits me harder than it should. A bunch of city kids getting their summer plans crushed because their wilderness guide bailed and the backup option, me, turned out to be a complete bastard.

I glance at her car again. She sits there, looking out at the trees around her, biting her lip. She must be truly desperate to have driven all this way to ask a stranger for help. It suddenly dawns on me how much this Camp Evergreen thing of hers must mean if she’s willing to beg someone who clearly doesn’t want anything to do with people.

Damn it.

I slam my beer down and head to the door. Sure, I could stand here and wait until she’s gone. Go on with my life without giving her or those kids another thought. Enjoy the solitude up here in the mountains. But I’m not a true asshole, am I? I might be a stubborn grump, sure, but not a dick.

I tell myself I might regret this, then yank the door open and walk over to her car.

Callie steps out, her eyes wide and fearful. For fuck’s sake, does she think I’m going to hurt her?

“How long?” I ask, my voice rough.

She blinks. “Excuse me?”

“The camp. How long do you need me for?”

The smile that spreads across her face is like a sunrise after a long night in the woods, and I know I’m already in deeper than I planned to be.

“Three weeks, maybe four. It all depends on how quickly I can find a permanent replacement. The entire camp lasts six weeks, but you don’t need to commit to that,” she says as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

I nod, even though every instinct I have is screaming at me to slam the door again and go back to my isolated, quiet life. But something about this gorgeous woman is stopping me from walking away. Her mouth-watering curves could make a monk rethink his vows, and the determined fire in her eyes tells me she’s not afraid to push when the odds are stacked against her. And for reasons I can’t explain, I feel compelled to give her what she wants.

“Okay, but I have conditions,” I say.

Her face lights up with a smile that could ruin me. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

“I don’t do social events. I teach wilderness survival, basic first aid, how not to die in the woods, how to pitch a tent, and make a fire. That’s it.”

“Perfect,” she says, nodding enthusiastically.

“And I don’t sleep in a cabin with a bunch of kids. I go home every night.”

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