Page 7 of My Ruthless Mountain Man

“Thank you. Let me repay you by cooking dinner.”

“There’s nothing to repay.”

“Then maybe I want something edible.”

Stone snorts. “I can’t argue with that. Make yourself at home while I lock up. Then I’ll help.”

He grabs a jacket from a peg by the back door and slips outside, giving me a moment to look around.

The cabin is cozy. An odd mix of rustic and modern. There’s a newer leather sofa nearby, yet the kitchen looks like it’s a few decades out of time. The dining table looks like a thrift store rescue, but the floors were refinished. Is he fixing it up?

There’s a bedroom off to the left with a small bathroom, and a second, unfinished room that will probably be a guest room. Does he have many guests up here? Does he have a girlfriend or lover? The thought sends a sharp twist of jealousy through me.

Stone is hot as hell. The only reason he’d be single is if he wanted to be.I want him to see me as a woman instead of Ryan’s little sister. This isn’t the time or place though. I need to focus on helping my brother, not my feelings for Stone. Guilt pricks at me for the selfish thoughts.

When Stone returns, I’ve found enough ingredients in the kitchen for basic fajitas. He must eat at least some meals here, because I found a decent amount of vegetables and lean meat. There’s not a beer can or pizza box in sight.

Where are you, Ryan?

“You want to try your brother again?” Stone asks as he checks the lock on the kitchen window. As if he knew what I was thinking.

“I don’t have a signal on my cell phone up here.”

“It’s spotty on a good day.” He picks up a wireless phone and hands it to me. “It might be from last century, but it works.”

I dial Ryan’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. This time, I don’t bother leaving a message. If he didn’t respond to the twenty plus messages I already left, one more won’t change anything.

Stone frowns when I hand the phone back.

“I have to believe they don’t have him. But why won’t he let me know he’s okay?” I stab the spatula into the vegetables cooking on the stove instead of stirring them. “Is it too much to ask after living with me rent free for three months?” Stab. Stab. “I didn’t even push him to get a job because I know he’s struggling.” Stab. Then the fear I was afraid to voice slips out as I stare at the pan. “What if he’s avoiding me because he knew he couldn’t come up with the money? He knew what Ilya would do, and he couldn’t face me?” I hack at themagain, my mind churning.

“They’re dead. They’re not going to answer, baby girl.” The weight of Stone’s hand lands on my lower back, spreading warmth up my spine. He takes the spatula from me and nudges me aside. “If he’s in that deep, he’s probably too ashamed to talk to you. I’m not excusing him. Only a fucking coward leaves the person helping him most to the wolves. But maybe he’s trying todelude himself that things aren’t as bad as they seem, if only to get through another day.”

My throat grows tight. “I don’t know how to help him.”

Stone pulls me closer. “Maybe you can’t.”

“If I don’t, I’ll lose him to the darkness. He’s my brother.” I grip his T-shirt, holding tight. “He’s the only one who...”

“Who what?”

“Who has ever cared about what I wanted. He used to bring me back presents from missions, just to make me smile.” Our parents were only happy when we did what they demanded. Ryan began to rebel after they told him he couldn’t socialize with someone like Stone, who didn’t come from money. I think they were harder on me because of his rebellion. I didn’t even graduate from college with a degree I was interested in. It was the one they wanted for me.

“Not the only one,” Stone whispers against the top of my head. He brushes a kiss to my temple, then returns his attention to dinner. He points the spatula at what’s left of the green pepper and onion. “They might need last rites.”

In the midst of all my anxiety, he makes me smile. Stone’s right. Ryan isn’t the only one. Throughout my life, Stone has been that steady presence, like a second, protective older brother. But standing near him like this, there’s nothing brotherly about what I’m feeling.

I take the spatula back, and together we finish dinner. The vegetables might have had a death-scare, but they weren’t terrible when we loaded up the taco shells. Stone’s moan of approval as he devoured one fajita after another made butterflies erupt in my stomach and arousal tug low between my thighs.

His gaze lingers on me throughout dinner. Not in a predatory way like Ilya, but in appreciation of what he sees. That surprises me too. I have more curves since the last time I saw him. My bustand hips filled out once I was living on my own and responsible for my own meals, instead of having a strict diet provided by the family chef.

Very few of the boys in college liked a curvy girl. Those that did were usually so focused on their studies that they forgot to date, so I don’t have much experience. My cheeks flame as I imagine all the things I want Stone to teach me. Starting with how to make him moan like he did eating the food I cooked.

As I clear the dishes from the table, it’s an effort to turn my thoughts back to where they should be—on Ryan.

Stone takes them from me and places them in the sink with our tea cups from earlier.

“They’ll hurt him if he doesn’t pay. But there’s no way he can win that kind of money by gambling. He said he was having a string of bad luck. And our parents won’t lift a finger to help him anymore.” I huff a frustrated sigh. “I don’t suppose you have seventy-five thousand dollars in cash you have no need for?”

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