Page 43 of Trapped with the Mountain Man

“Actually, yes.”

Chapter 22

Hunter

My nerves really hit me once I step off the plane. I’m in Portland. I traveled across the country to do a sappy interview for some magazine about my possibly unrequited love for a woman I have not spoken to in months. For someone who likes to keep to himself, that’s a lot of putting myself out there all at once.

I’ve tried to think of every scenario. Every reaction Abby might have to seeing me tomorrow – from the ones that make my chest catch fire to the ones that make my stomach drop. Even the possibility that she figures the whole thing out and refuses to show up. That’s the worst scenario of them all. Even if she shows up just to reject me, at least I’d get to see her one last time. At least I’d have that much.

I’m only a few steps off the jet bridge when a scrawny man in a gray uniform stops me.

“Sir, could you please come with me?” he says, motioning me out of the line of passengers.

I step aside and glance down at the block letters that spell out ‘Security’ on his chest. That has to be a joke. The guy is nineteen, at most. He doesn’t even reach my shoulders and the uniform they issued him must be the smallest size they have, but it’s still falling off from him. The belt around his waist is the only thing keeping it all in place.

“What’s this about?” I ask.

“I just need you to come with me, sir,” he says.

I glance at the gate agent beside him, who seems as confused as I am. She gives me a little shrug.

“Alright, I guess.”

He motions for me to sit in the back of his strange golf cart contraption, which buzzes like a cheap toy as we lurch away from the gate. I shift uneasily in the back as he parts the oncoming crowd of people with the vehicle. After a few minutes, I sit forward and try again to ask him what is going on.

“Is something wrong?” I ask.

“I’m not sure, sir. I was just told to bring you to the security office.”

I sigh and lean back again, holding my bag in place beside me as the guy takes a corner too fast.

A few minutes later, we stop in a desolate corner of the airport under a sign that reads ‘Security Office.’ The guy hops off his cart and ushers me inside of a small, sterile lobby.

“This way,” he says, motioning me to follow him down a short hallway. We stop at the last door and the kid peaks his head inside just long enough to say, “He’s here.” He steps back and motions for me to proceed through the door before he disappears back down the hallway.

At this point, I’m annoyed. It’s been a long day of traveling. I’m tired, hungry, and my legs are still cramped up from the flight. Roomy exit row seat, my ass. There’s absolutely no way that I did anything to garner the attention of airport security, yet here I am. And all I want is to fast-forward to tomorrow afternoon when I get to see Abby.

I take a deep breath and step through the doorway, bracing myself for whatever the fuck awaits me inside.

It’s another bland office. A big, metal desk with papers piled on top, an outdated PDX poster with faded colors, and a blonde woman in another gray uniform staring up at me from the opposite side of the desk. Her expression catches me off-guard. She greets me with a broad smile and bright eyes. It’s such a confusing moment that I almost don’t notice that there’s another person in the room.

At first, all I see is a cascade of brown hair falling over the back of the chair. It’s longer and curlier than I remember it, butfuckdo I remember it. The way it smelled, the way it felt when it brushed against my chest or when I ran my fingers through it. Every bit of me knew that it was her before she even turned around.

Abby.

“Hi, Hunter,” she says as she rises from the chair and turns to face me. I’d never stopped to consider what Abby looks like in her day-to-day life when she hasn’t been stranded on a trail or in a remote cabin for days, but seeing it now stops me dead in my tracks. I didn’t realize she could be any more beautiful.

I want to hug her, kiss her, throw her down on the desk and rip her clothes off after I tell blondie to get out. But Abby just studies my face carefully, so I do the same.

“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” I ask.

“I’m rescuing you,” she says with a coy smile.

“Rescuingme?”

“Yep…well, with Janet’s help.”

The blonde beams over at us from behind the desk. An awkward moment passes where I realize Abby and I are having our big reunion in this woman’s office. There are a million things I need to say to Abby, and I’m not sure if I should just start blurting them out in from of Janet.

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