Page 6 of Her Mountain Man Giant

The Cowboy’s Obsession

Violet Cassidy

Carefully, I slip my hand into the hole and pull out one of the books to get a better look. The cover features a man in a cowboyhat, his arms wrapped around a blond girl. The words “Author Copy” are stamped on the front, and I raise my eyebrows.

Violet wrote this?

I guessed she was a writer after I read her notebook, but had no idea she was published. I’d love to read the whole thing, immerse myself in something she wrote, but I’m too impatient to see her again. So instead, I skim through the pages, pausing when my gaze catches on a passage halfway through the book.

“She arched beneath him, gasping his name as he drove into her. His thrusts were deep and relentless, driving her wild with need as their bodies moved together in a desperate rhythm. She raked her fingers through his dark curls, moaning against his lips as pleasure threatened to consume her…”

I swallow hard. Knowing Violet wrote these words, her dirty thoughts spilling onto the page…fuck, it drives me crazy. My cock throbs beneath my boxers, a bolt of need zipping through me as I get up from my chair. I can’t wait any longer. I need to see her. Now.

I slide the book back into the box and hurriedly tape up the tear. Then I carry it out the front door and into the woods, striding quickly toward Violet’s cabin. My heart thumps with anticipation the closer I get. Finally, I climb the steps of her tiny porch and knock, adrenaline thrumming through me. I hear movement inside, and a second later, the door swings open.

Holy shit.

Violet looks more adorable than ever in her pretty pink pajamas, her long hair tied back in a messy bun. For a moment, she looks surprised to see me. Then her perfect lips stretch into a smile, her eyes lighting up.

“Good morning,” she says sweetly.

“Hey, Violet.” I hold up the box. “This came for you this morning. Delivered to the wrong address.”

She looks at the parcel and nods. “Thank you for bringing it over! I was starting to think it would never arrive.”

“No problem. It’s heavy—want me to carry it inside?”

“Yes, please.” She takes a step away from the door, giving me space to enter the cabin. I’ve been in here before, back when I was helping Brody to fix the place up, but Violet has made it her own. It’s like stepping into a garden. There are plants on every surface—succulents in pots, hanging plants, flowers. Books line the shelves, and the walls are covered in paintings and posters of everything from the Eiffel Tower to a vintage advert for cheese.

“Nice place,” I say as I take it all in, setting the box down.

“Thanks! I just finished decorating last week.” She pauses, biting her lip as she looks at me. “I, uh…actually, I was about to make some breakfast. Want some?”

I know I should refuse. I’m already losing my mind over this girl, obsessing over her. Spending more time with her sure as hell won’t help. She’s half my age and sweeter than honey—not meant for a broken old man like me. But fuck, how can I resist? She’s an angel, and I’m only flesh and blood.

“Sure,” I tell her. “Breakfast sounds good.”

When she smiles at me again, it lights up her entire face.

And suddenly, I forget every reason I should stay away.

5

VIOLET

My heart isin my throat as I watch Tanner wander around the cabin. He looks even bigger than usual now he’s standing in my tiny living room, taking up all the space and making my furniture look like it belongs in a dollhouse. It sends a shiver through me, and I have to force myself to stop staring at him.

I didn’t expect to see him again so soon. I spent last night tossing and turning in bed, hoping I’d find him again out in the woods sometime. But it seems like luck is on my side, and I’ve never been happier to have a parcel delivered to the wrong address.The package is one I’ve been expecting for a while—author copies of my cowboy romance with a brand-new cover. It feels like fate that it ended up in Tanner’s hands.

“Are pancakes okay with you?” I ask him, opening the door to the kitchen.

“Sure. I’ll give you a hand.”

Asking him to stay for breakfast was an impulsive move, but I didn’t want to watch him leave again. Now I can finally spend a little time with him—figure him out. Maybe even break down his mysterious front a little.

He follows me into the kitchen, grabbing a pan from the top shelf while I crack a couple of eggs into a bowl. I stir in a cupof milk and add the pancake mix, whisking it all together while Tanner turns on the stove and melts some butter in the pan. I’m about to tip the mixture in when he says, “Don’t worry, I got it.”

He takes the bowl and pours out three even-sized circles. I grab a bottle of maple syrup from the cupboard, smiling when Tanner flips the pancakes with ease. But as he sets the pan back on the stove, I see him shift his weight, a flicker of pain crossing his face. When he catches my eye, he tries to hide it, but I see the way his face tightens, his jaw clenching.

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