Page 7 of My Protective Mountain Man

She perks up, clearly surprised. “Really?”

I nod, my gaze drifting to the window. “They used to hike up here before the cabin was ever built. Just the two of them. Said it felt like their own private piece of the world. There’s a small waterfall about a half mile behind the cabin—hidden unless you know where to look.”

Sierra leans in slightly, listening, eyes wide with interest.

“My dad proposed to her there,” I say, voice softening. “Said she was the only thing in his life that ever made sense, and he wanted to anchor that feeling to something real. So when they got married, he bought the land and built this cabin for her. A place where they could always come back to.”

Sierra smiles, her eyes misty. “That’s… beautiful.”

“Yeah.” I nod, slowly. “It is. It was. After she passed, my dad never came back. Said it was too painful without her. He offered to sell it. But I couldn’t let him. So I took it over.”

I pause, glancing at the stone hearth. “It’s not much, I know. It’s old and creaky and too far from everything, but… it feels like them. Like home. And I don’t think I’ll ever leave. Hell the onlyperson who even comes up here to visit me is my Aunt Caroline. She’s really the only family I have now.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her fingers tightening slightly around the mug.

“I get it,” she says finally, voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes the places we hold on to are the only ways we know how to hold on to the people we’ve lost.”

Our eyes meet.I feel something shift in me—quiet, but powerful. A thread pulled tighter between us.

We continue talking. Well more like she’s talking—something about the first time she ever saw snow, how she made a snow angel and ended up soaking wet and freezing but refused to go inside because it felt like magic.

I should be listening to her words. Instead, I’m watching her mouth.

Soft, full, moving gently with every syllable. Every now and then, she bites her lip when she’s trying to remember a detail. It’s like watching a storm roll in—quiet and electric and impossible to look away from.

And it hits me, sharp and deep—I can’t let her leave.

I don’t just mean I don’twanther to—I mean Iwon’t. Ican’t.Something inside me won’t allow it. The thought of her walking out of this forest, out of my life—it makes my chest tighten with something primal. Possessive. Like a fuse has been lit inside me that I can’t snuff out.

She laughs again, eyes crinkling as she tells me about her brother daring her to eat a snowball, and that’s it. I’m gone.

Completely and utterly.

I lean forward, resting my arms on the table, close enough to reach out and touch her—though I don’t. Not yet. Not until I’m sure she won’t flinch. Not until I’m sure she wants it too. But my eyes are locked on her like she’s already mine.

And in a way, sheis.

Because something changed the moment she stepped onto my porch—collapsed into my arms like she belonged there. Fate sent her to me. I don’t care what the world thinks about that. I don’t need logic or timing or permission. I just know what I know.

I can’t let her leave. Not tonight. Not ever.

CHAPTER

FIVE

SIERRA

It feelslike I’ve been talking to Everest for hours at this point… and like I could talk to him for hours more. And somehow, these pancakes still taste delicious, no matter how slowly I eat them. I drag the side of my fork through a puddle of syrup and take another bite, savoring the comfort wrapped up in the flavors. It tastes like childhood. Like safety. Like something I haven’t felt in a long time.

Everest sits across from me, quiet now. We’ve talked a lot already—and it’s shocking how much I can have in common with this reclusive man. And now there’s just this comfortable stillness between us. The kind of quiet that doesn’t feel awkward. It feels… easy.Intimatealmost.

And maybe that’s what makes the guilt start to gnaw at the edges of my mind.

Because I know I should tell him. I should just say it—that I’m here on behalf of someone else. That I’m not some lost wanderer who stumbled into his life completely by accident. I mean, Iamlost… but not exactly in the way he thinks.

I lower my fork and glance at him. He’s sipping his coffee, the morning light making his scruff look a shade lighter, his blue eyes brighter. God, he’s beautiful. Rugged, real. Honest in a wayI’m not sure I’ve ever been with anyone. He doesn’t wear masks, doesn’t say things to impress. And I—I’m sitting here pretending I’m someone I’m not.

I open my mouth. Ready to say it.

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