Page 3 of Her Mountain Man Giant

“I mean how did you find me?” I run a hand over my beard, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “Who are you writing for? A newspaper? Blog?”

“Newspaper?” The girl looks at me like I’ve grown an extra head. “I have no clue what you’re talking about. I was just taking a walk…I live out here.”

She looks baffled, like she’s wondering if I’m some kind of crazy person, and I feel a knot of shame twist inside me.

“Shit,” I mutter. “Sorry, I thought…hell, it doesn’t matter what I thought.”

Her eyes linger on me warily and I take a step back, shaking my head. The paranoia has drained away as fast as it came, leaving me feeling like a fucking idiot. What was I thinking? Of course she’s not a journalist. Apart from a few dark corners of the internet, nobody gives a shit about what happened all those years ago. The rest of the world has moved on, even if I haven’t.

“I should get going,” the girl says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Sorry again for trespassing. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Something stirs inside me as she turns away. I feel like an asshole for being so gruff with her. I want to make it right, give her a proper apology, but she’s already hurrying away through the trees, her wavy hair streaming behind her as she disappears. A crazy part of me wants to chase after her, wrap her up in my arms, keep her with me. She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. An angel. And I was a total jerk.

Now I’ll probably never see her again.

The thought gnaws at me way more than it should as I head back to the juniper tree and continue chopping, unleashing my frustration with every swing of my axe. The girl was just a stranger I met in the woods—nothing more—but fuck, I swear the world shifted when she looked at me. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. The memory of her thick curvesmakes my heart thud, slamming against my rib cage as the tree finally topples to the ground with a thunderous creak. I barely glance at it. Instead, I look back toward the place where the girl vanished and heave a sigh.

I didn’t even find out her name.

3

VIOLET

I stuffmy notebook into my back pocket as I race through the trees, heading for home. I don’t dare look back, but I swear I can feel the giant’s eyes on me long after he’s out of sight. The memory of him looming over me sends a shiver down my spine, but it’s not fear that’s making my heart pound like a bass drum.

Was he even real?

Are you sure you didn’t just imagine him?

It sure feels like a possibility. He definitelylookedtoo good to be true, and when he spoke in that deep, growly voice, my knees almost gave way. I was a little scared, a lot turned on, but also confused by his questions. Why did he think I was looking for him? Why would he expect somebody to be writing about him in a newspaper? I should have asked. Heck, I should have gotten his name at least. But the truth is, I was overwhelmed by him—his size, his ruggedness, his intensity. I’m used to fictional characters, not real men, and especially not a man like him. So I ran away.

The forest is darkening fast as I finally reach my cabin. It’s a tiny little place, cozy and comfortable, and I take a deep breath as I close the front door behind me, leaning back against it. Thestranger’s face is still swimming in my mind’s eye. I can picture him perfectly, and I can’t help smiling to myself.

At least I got the inspiration I was looking for.

I step away from the door and grab my laptop, ready to type up the notes I made in the woods. My hand reaches into my back pocket to grab my notebook. But it’s not there. Frowning, I try the other pocket, finding nothing but a crumpled up receipt and a candy wrapper. Panic rises inside me. I frantically search the cabin, checking under the sofa and between the cushions, but I already know I won’t find it. I must have dropped it in the woods when I was running back home.

Crap.

I look out the window with a groan of annoyance. The sky is fading to a deep, dark indigo, and the trees around the cabin blend together in shadow. It’s too dark to go hunting for my notebook—I’ll definitely end up lost in the woods. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to search for it and pray it didn’t fall into the creek.

Still grumbling to myself, I sit down at the table and open my laptop, ready to type up my notes from memory. Every detail of the handsome stranger’s appearance is burned into my mind, from his olive green eyes to the deep lines on his forehead. I open a word document, ready to get to work, but the second I’m done typing “Hero” at the top of the page, a sharp knock makes me jump.

What the heck?

I stare at the front door in surprise. It’s too late for visitors. Heck, I don’t know anyone around here anyway, aside from my landlords. Emma and Brody live in a much bigger cabin nearby, just about visible from my living room window. But they wouldn’t come knocking at this hour.

Tentatively, I rise from my chair and head for the door, pulling it open slowly. The warm light of my living roomspills out, illuminating the man on my doorstep. My stomach backflips. It’s him. The giant stranger is standing outside my cabin, filling the doorway with his vast frame. I forget how to breathe. My head is spinning, and a flash of hot pink draws my eye.

Oh no.

He’s holding my notebook.

“Hello again.” His voice is quiet, but it seems to fill the cabin like a deep peal of thunder, sending shivers through me. I stare at him dumbly, unable to speak.

Please tell me he didn’t read it.

I will drop dead of embarrassment if he read my notes…

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