Page 13 of Mountain Wood
“I don’t mind the cold.” In fact, I don’t even feel the frigid temperatures right now. My body’s warming with his fierce gaze on me. It’s a wonder steam isn’t rising from my skin.
“Is that why you came here? To be cold?”
Why does it feel like he’s trying to call me out on something with that tone?
My mouth tightens with my silence because there’s no way I’m telling him about my personal issues and the real reason I picked this place to stay for a while. It’s none of his business.
When I don’t speak, Dean shakes his head. “I thought not,” he says, sounding disappointed. He turns away from me to go back to his black pickup truck which I now notice is parked in front of the cabin next to mine.
An hour later, I’m still too wound up to relax. All I keep thinking about is the way he looks at me. How he moves. The roughness of his hands. The way his register drops a little when he says he worries about me.
It warms me from tongue to toes.
Other men I’ve had in my life were unbothered by everything. If there was trouble, money solved it. The worst danger I’ve faced was a stint of bad publicity, and it worked in my favor. Men in my life have never raised a hand at me or anything close to being a threat. Mostly because my two older brothers would tear them apart if they tried.
Dean isn’t from my world though.
He could be innocent… or extremely dangerous.
There must be something wrong with him if he’s still single, right?
“Well,you’restill single,” I remind myself.
Right. Okay then. Never mind.
Guess I’ll get some work done since I have nothing else to do.
Shrugging out of my clothes, I tear into one of my bags and pull out a few choice pieces. Then I fix my hair and makeup. Setting up the tripod, I fuck withthe lighting and snap several pics along with short videos. Sometimes a simple shoot is more authentic than a whole production. Besides, I’m tired and lazy tonight.
After making enough content to work with, I wash my face and get into a pair of pajamas. The bed squeaks when I climb into it. There’s a faux fur blanket on top that smells like fresh laundry.
How many maids are there here?
Lying in bed, I edit some video clips I took earlier down by the creek, and Dean’s fears circle back. Jeez, I could have easily run into a bear down there.
How do I avoid being mauled?
A quick online search gives me some pointers, and I have no clue if I’ll ever have the balls to keep my panic in check and do any of these suggested steps if a black bear gets too close. Besides, look how cute and fluffy they are. Surely, they’d sense I’m a friend and not eat me, right?
Wrong.
Maybe I should buy bear spray, just in case.
Honestly, I’d think the chances of running into a bear, or any other Grace-eating animal around here, are slim. It’s cold out. Don’t animals hunker down in winter, and, at the very least, stay away from humans?
I wish I could stay away from humans.
Nuzzled under the covers, I upload a new post across my social media accounts. The one from earlier got plenty of hits, but I can do better. Hopefully this new reel will go more viral.
My gaze swings to the window where I can see Dean’s house across the creek. It glows in warm golden tones in the dark, like a beautiful painting.
Does he live alone? If so, who protectshim? I didn’t see a single soul around earlier, which makes me wonder if he lives, and runs this place, by himself.
No way. It would be impossible.
I can’t imagine that kind of workload and pressure.
Just seeing him split wood earlier looked tiring. But fucking hell was it hot.
