Page 5 of Mountain Man's Mail Order Treat

“I assume you never sleep up here?”

“No,” I called up. Just a few more rungs and I’d be at the top of the ladder. “The loft was already here when I moved in. All the cabins on this street have them. I figured if any of my military buddies ever came to visit, they could sleep up here.”

I stopped at the top of the ladder and froze. Whitley was seated in the center of the bed, legs crossed like she’d made herself at home. Okay, so there wasn’t exactly anywhere to stand or sit. This room was all bed, with a tiny sliver of space where the narrow nightstand sat, only big enough to hold a small lamp.

“What about family?” she asked. “I just realized you haven’t mentioned them. Parents? Siblings?”

I shook my head. Had been shaking it almost from the start, as soon as she mentioned parents.

“None of that.”

I wanted to leave it there. With anyone else, I would have. I was surprised, with as many hours as we’d spent on the phone, that I’d managed to avoid it this long.

“My aunt raised me,” I continued. “She’s dead now.”

Really, was that all I was going to say about her? It sounded cold, like I didn’t love my aunt. But I’d been devastated by her death. It had come just after I’d enlisted, and it had only cemented my decision. A decision that had taken me away from the only home I’d ever known.

But Whitley didn’t look as stunned as I would’ve expected. Instead, she stared at me with a flat expression, her eyes steady and her face completely neutral.

She wasn’t judging me. My guess? She was trying to figure me out.

“My only siblings are the brothers I served with,” I said. “A couple of them live here now—Reilly and West. You’ll meet them.”

It was clear from her expression that she wasn’t thinking about my friends at this moment. Her mind was on me.

I didn’t see pity in her eyes, though. No, it was more like discovery. As if maybe she’d developed an all-new appreciation for me. A soft spot in her heart.

Was she falling for me? Doubtful. Not yet. But it was a good start toward convincing her that I was the man for her.

“I was raised by my nana,” Whitley suddenly said. “My mom got into drugs. Well, I guess she was already into them when I was born. I’m not sure how I turned out okay.”

She held up a hand and wiggled her fingers as though to demonstrate she only had five. She let out a laugh—something between a chuckle and a giggle.

Now I was the one staring with an all-new appreciation. We’d already discovered all the things we had in common—our love for the mountains, a good horror movie, and country music. But the biggest thing we had in common, we hadn’t even discussed. Our upbringing. Maybe we’d both been deliberately avoiding the subject.

She patted the bed beside her. “You going to sit with me or just hover there like a nervous teenager?”

I let out a dry laugh, but my hand gripped the ladder tighter. “Whitley…”

“I’m not asking you to do anything. Just…come sit.”

I climbed the last few rungs and lowered myself onto the edge of the bed, careful not to sit too close. The mattress dipped beneath me, and the air shifted between us. Up here, it was all close quarters. No distractions. No distance.

Just her.

She turned toward me, legs still crossed. “You’re wondering if I’m really sure.”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “It’s not exactly something you can undo.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“And tonight? Me?”

“You think I’m making some kind of rash decision?” she asked. “That I’m trying to prove something?”

I didn’t answer.

She gave a small shrug. “It’s not like I was saving it for marriage or some magical moment under the stars. I was just…busy. Obsessed with building something. I’ve been working nonstop trying to get my jam and jelly business going. I did festivals every weekend, ran deliveries during the week, taught myself to design labels. I didn’t have time to date. And then the longer I went without, the harder it got to…you know, just casually hand it over.”

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