Page 10 of Her Mountain Man Giant

I thank her and head into the kitchen, inspecting the faucet. It doesn’t take long to fix—there are a few loose parts causing the leak, so I tighten them up. Then I head back into the living room to fix the floorboard and replace the loose screws. I crouch down, fighting against the pain in my knee as I work. Behind me, I can hear Violet tapping on her keyboard, the only sound in the quiet cabin. I can’t help wondering what she’s writing. I think back to her notebook—the notes she made about me.

Is she really going to write me into one of her books?

The thought makes me smile to myself, and suddenly the knee pain is forgotten, warmth buzzing through my chest. I made myself numb a long time ago, shutting out the past, the bad memories…but Violet is making me feel things again. It’s like she’s waking me up, breathing life into my withered old heart, and it scares me how fast I’m falling for her. There’s no way a girl like her would want me. She might think I sound like a romance hero on paper, but the reality is very different. I’m damaged goods. A sullen and reclusive middle-aged man. And hell, even if by some miracle shedidwant me, there are a million ways I could lose her—a million ways I could get my heart broken.

But I can’t help how I feel.

I can’t stop myself from wanting her.

With a deep sigh, I try to refocus on what I’m doing, pulling up the screws from the floorboard. But curiosity nags at me as I listen to Violet’s fingers move across the keys. Her back is to me, and I straighten up slightly, peering over her shoulder. Iglimpse a few words, “bulging biceps”, “giant mountain man”, before Violet catches my reflection in her screen. She hurriedly minimizes the tab and whips around.

“Hey! No peeking.” She tries to look serious, but she’s fighting back a smile.

“Working on your book?” I ask.

“Maybe.”

“What’s it about?”

Her cheeks pinken, and she squirms in her seat.

“I’m still figuring it out,” she says eventually.

“You’ll have to let me read it sometime.”

She blushes even harder, her eyes dancing as we look at each other.

“Maybe one day.”

Our gaze holds for the space of several heartbeats, and all I want to do is kiss her—close the space between us and claim that pretty mouth. My eyes flicker to her lips, strawberry red and begging to be kissed. I want to taste her. Tangle my hands in her soft hair. But all too soon, Violet turns back around to face her screen. She’s breathing hard, her shoulders rising and falling fast. The air is thicker than molasses, and the cabin suddenly feels too small, pressing in from every side. I run a hand over my beard, trying to ignore the furious thumping of my pulse, the bulge in my jeans straining against my boxers.

Violet doesn’t look back around, but she doesn’t need to. I can feel her. I’m hyperaware of every breath, every movement. Something just shifted between us, and I know there’s no going back.

This girl is mine.

The thought hits me hard, setting fire to my veins. I’ve been hanging on by a thread since we met, clinging to my self-control, but I’m done trying to fight it. I need to claim her. I’ve felt it deep down since the moment we met—the inevitability. Like meetingher was written in the stars. Hell, I’m not sure I believe in fate, but I believe in choices. The power of choosing your own destiny. Violet might not know it yet, but I’ve made my choice.

And I choose her.

7

VIOLET

The first pealsof thunder rumble in the distance as we head for Tanner’s cabin a couple of hours later. Trees quiver around us, branches rocked by the burgeoning wind as it picks up speed. The air is charged, thick with humidity.

“Almost there,” Tanner says, carrying my duffel bag for me. “Stay close.”

His voice sounds just like the grumbling thunder, and I do as I’m told, following him through the woods. In the end, he found tons of things to fix around my cabin—not just the faucet and the floorboard, but a squeaky cupboard, a tiny hole in the drywall, and the flickering porch light. When I tried to thank him, he just shrugged, like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to help me out.

This man is really something special.

I feel so safe with him as he guides me through the forest, his giant hand reaching out to grab mine as he helps to pull me across a narrow creek. My skin tingles at his touch, still warm long after he lets go. It’s impossible to act normal around Tanner. My brain short circuits every time he looks at me, and I don’t know how much longer I can hide it.

“This is it,” he says eventually as the forest opens out to reveal an enormous log cabin. It’s beautiful—at least ten times the size of my modest home, nestled in the trees and circled by a carpet of colorful wildflowers. The door is giant-sized, so Tanner doesn’t have to duck his head as he opens it for us.

It’s just as beautiful on the inside, with high ceilings and gigantic windows overlooking the forest. Every surface is made of honey-colored wood, giving the place a cozy and rustic feel. All the furniture looks like it was designed with Tanner in mind—everything is huge and sturdy-looking, built to accommodate a giant. I can’t help smiling as I take it all in. This is exactly the kind of place I imagined Tanner would live.

“This place is incredible,” I tell him, looking eagerly around the living room.

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