Page 4 of Mountain Man's Mail Order Challenge
“Deal.”
He stopped walking, just for a second. Like he hadn’t expected me to agree so fast. Then he started down the trail again without another word.
I followed. And I didn’t stop smiling the whole way to his cabin.
3
COLLIN
This wasn’t going at all like I planned.
My goal had been to drive her out of town by dragging her along on my errands—gardening supplies at the big box hardware retailer and a stop by the auto body shop to pick up some brake pads for my buddy.
But my supposed fiancée, who’d finally introduced herself as Paget, remained by my side through all of it, happily pushing the cart at the hardware store and asking me questions about my life, my childhood, my future. I expected her to get restless. After all, she’d made it clear on the drive to Hartsville that she lived for adventure. This was far from adventure.
Instead, I’d gotten a hefty dose of what life would be like with a partner by my side—someone to keep me company as I shopped and drove and did everyday, boring things.
Only, they weren’t so boring with her around.
“I could go for a hot dog,” she blurted as we drove down Hartsville Parkway en route to the interstate.
I didn’t even have to look to know what she was talking about. Off to the right was a very popular hot dog stand.
I rarely ate out. It just seemed wasteful. Not because funds were tight—I’d just been raised by frugal parents who lived by the adage “a penny saved is a penny earned.” But going home to make a sandwich seemed so…predictable. Suddenly, the last thing I wanted to be was predictable.
That was why I took the turn. I impulsively cranked the wheel. Didn’t even flip on my blinker. It was such a last-minute decision that I saw her eyes go wide, as if it impressed her.
I’d planned to hop out and get the food for her, but I’d barely rolled to a stop when she already had her seatbelt unfastened and was pulling on the door handle.
Before I could say a word, she was gone. I froze, just sitting there, staring after her.
Finally, I climbed out, already reaching for my wallet. She was out of her mind if she thought I’d let her pay. I’d dragged her around on all my errands—buying her lunch was the least I could do.
Okay, so she’d shown up in my life without warning, but that wasn’t her fault either. Bobbi had set all of this up and given her the impression I was going to marry her. And for that, I felt horrible.
So yeah, I was buying her lunch.
I was still several feet from the stand when she turned around, a big paper sack in her hands. “I didn’t know what you like, so I got them plain—with all the condiments and packets and cups. That way you can fix it up however you want.”
That should be interesting. I looked around for a picnic table. No such luck. We could sit on the curb and eat them, but that wouldn’t be comfortable for either of us.
And that was when the word boring blasted into my brain again. Could anything be more boring than fussing over a little mustard on my vinyl upholstery? It could be cleaned off easilyenough. Hell, even if it couldn’t, who cared? Maybe it was time to be a little less uptight over shit like that.
“Here,” I said, taking the bag from her.
She smiled. “Great. You take those to the truck, and I’ll get the drinks.”
Drinks. I’d completely forgotten about those. We each had a bottle of water in the cupholders, grabbed when I stopped to get gas on our way out of Wildwood Valley. But it didn’t surprise me that she might want something in a cup with a straw.
I deposited the sack of food on the driver’s seat, then rounded the front of the truck to open the passenger door as she approached with two drinks. She shook her head.
“Drop the tailgate,” she said.
It took me a second to piece it together. At the word “tailgate,” my mind went straight to a fantasy involving the bed of my truck—an image of her riding me, those big tits bouncing with each movement. Fuck. Just the thought was enough to make me damn near come in my jeans.
“Let’s sit on the back,” she said. “It’ll be easier.”
“It’s hot as balls out here.”
