Page 15 of Marked by the Mountain Man

“I can’t blame you. It’s the same for me with you being his boss. No offense, but who hires a guy like him in the first place?”

“I always give second and sometimes even third chances. It’s a part of who I am. Period.”

“Fair enough.”

“Fair but not smart.” I frown. “I better work on the generator before it gets any darker so we have lighting and maybe heat,” I excuse, heading back through the door.

Outside, I find the ratty-ass generator house, using another rock to break the rusty lock and turn it on. I keep a mental list of all the property damage to reimburse the cabin owner later. This property remains a godsend, though, as the icy rain continues to dribble around me. Without it, Hadleigh and I would face a night from hell rather than the prospect of modern amenities.

Of course, a cozy wilderness getaway presents its own problems. Like deciding how far I want to take things with Hadleigh.Ifshe wants to take things further at all.

I remind myself that she’s Drew’s sister, the last asshole on earth I want to be anymore tied to—love at first sight or not.But the heart doesn’t care about that shit. Who the hell am I fooling? I want her, and I want her bad.

But what twenty-something in the prime of her youth wants to settle down with a forty-two-year-old wounded warrior? My list of aches and pains is long at times, and I’m at the age where I don’t want drama. Or to fuck around. I want a wife and babies, while I’m still young enough to keep up with them.

Lights shine from the cabin as I trudge back to the front door. I walk into a cozy room with a roaring fire and pots and pans lining the countertop as Hadleigh stands in her stockinged feet in front of a small pantry, sorting through lines of canned goods. She holds two in her hands, blowing on the tops to remove a thick layer of dust.

“Some of these are expired by several years. This place doesn’t look like it sees much action.”

“Nope,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “You know how to make a fire.” I saunter towards the golden flames in the stone hearth.

“Yes, bonfires on the beach were always my family’s thing. Nothing beats roasting marshmallows and listening to the waves. I grew up on Coronado Island, by the way. So, not too far from your neck of the woods as a Marine.”

“Had to be an idyllic childhood, I’d imagine. I’m from the Midwest, Kansas born and bred. So, the first chance I had to split, I did. Not much to do there apart from tornado chase and sip iced tea on the porch with old timers.”

“The closed-in porch because of all of the mosquitoes,” Hadleigh adds with a laugh.

I arch an eyebrow, pulling out a high stool beneath the kitchen island and taking a seat to watch her work. “Sounds like you know the Midwest?”

She nods. “My mom’s side of the family comes from South Dakota, so we spent lots of time there as kids. Lived there, too, after Dad died.” Her voice trembles, pain close to the surface.

“What happened?” I ask, sitting back on the stool.

She looks down, studying the kitchen counter for a long moment. “He died surfing Mavericks. I was sixteen at the time. We were a surfing family. Even Mom used to go out, but none of us were anywhere near my Dad’s level. He had some friends up from Costa Rica, and they all went together right before a big storm. Waves were supposed to be huge, perfect for a nice long ride. We stayed home that day because Dad surfing was a weekly, sometimes daily, occurrence. But then, we got the call that the Coast Guard was looking for him.” She shakes her head, crumpling in front of me as she sets the cans down, her palms flattening onto the counter to support her.

“What a nightmare,” I say, shaking my head.

“Everything more or less fell apart after that. We moved to South Dakota, which I absolutely hated. My grandparents lived in this small town called Vermillion. It was a really cool and eclectic place, but everyone knew everyone else, and they weren’t especially welcoming to outsiders. Maybe if I’d moved there earlier, it would have been different. But coming in halfway through my Junior year of high school sucked. So, I made it my goal to get out of South Dakota and back to San Diego as fast as I could.”

“And what did you do in California?”

“Worked in retail and gave surfing lessons until I got my first supervisor position. I now oversee a Coach handbag store. Maybe that’s why I’m so bossy when it comes to Andy’s life. If something needs to be managed, I’m only too willing and capable. But sometimes I forget that not everyone appreciates that.”

“I guess while we’re on the subject of your older brother, I might as well ask, how did you turn out so okay if he’s the way he is?”

She chuckles, shaking her head.

“Sorry if I’m taking that too far. I know he’s your brother and all. I’m just frustrated with him.”

“Believe me, I have the same question, even though I love him dearly and know what a fun kid and cool teenager he was. But he didn’t handle our father’s death well at all. While it pushed me to be the perfect child so that my mom never had to worry about anything, Andy went the other way. He cultivated this rage against the world that, coupled with his naturally rebellious personality, was truly terrifying, especially when he started using drugs. What he really needs is to hit rock bottom and go into rehab. Mom knows it. I know it. But seeing him down on his luck and suffering so much … God, it’s difficult to turn your back on that, which is what brought me to Northern Idaho to try to talk some sense into him before he fucks up another good thing working for you.”

I cross my arms, looking down and shaking my head. “I’m not exaggerating when I say I’ve given him every chance to pull it together. Hell, I even let him live rent-free above the shop. But instead of being grateful, using this time to pull his shit together and stand on his own two feet, he’s the victim of his circumstances. I don’t pay him enough. I don’t cut him enough slack. I don’t give him enough recognition, even though he’s more of a glorified receptionist than a tattoo parlor manager. Recently, I found money missing from the till, and he’s my number one suspect, Hadleigh. Hate to tell you that. Now, the latest thing is I’ve fucked him over by drug testing him and refusing to apprentice him as a tattoo artist. But that shit takes talent and dedication. I would never let him operate a gun in my shop.”

Hadleigh nods, sadness flooding her eyes. “Wow, I can’t believe all you’ve done for him. Thank you. It’s such a shame that Andy can’t be grateful for any of this.”

“No, what’s a shame is being in the same cozy cabin with the hottest girl I’ve ever met and talking about Drew. No offense, but I’m far more interested in you.”

“Well, at least, ninety-nine percent of me,” she flirts.

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