Page 32 of The Mountain Man's Curvy Surprisem
I hear the floorboards squeaking behind me, only turning to look at him once I reach the kitchen cabinet where mugs are stored. “Coffee?” I hiss.
“No, thank you,” the gnome says apprehensively, taking a seat at the kitchen bar on one of the tall stools.
“So, you’re Mack.” I frown.
“I’m the Mack that used to live here. But not the current one. Where is McGregor anyway?”
“Recovering from surgery.”
Mack’s face floods with concern. “Is he okay? What happened?”
I shrug. “Punched a rock, thanks to the drama from your silly letter-writing scam.”
His shoulders rise, face stiffening. “Seems a little over the top for something that obviously didn’t do anyone any long-term harm.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Excuse me?”
The man looks down, sheepishly, melting under my withering gaze. “Okay, maybe I should’ve thought things through better. But you enjoyed the letters, and I enjoyed feeling young again. What does any of that have to do with punching a rock?”
I don’t want to share any more details of my personal life with this man. He’s already invaded my world far too thoroughly, like a parasite. But he needs to acknowledge that what he did was wrong.
“Because of you, Mateo and I got off on the wrong foot in every way imaginable. We had countless misunderstandings, and we almost broke up twice in less than the first twenty-four hours of knowing each other.”
The old man stares at his wrinkled hands, fighting the urge to smile. I feel like punching something, a new sensation for me.
“Why the grin?” I bark.
“Because of me, you two met. Wouldn’t have happened without me.”
“That’s not necessarily true. My bestie lives in town,” I counter, pressing my lips firmly together.
“But that’s not how it happened. Despite everything, you two are together. And you never would have been if it wasn’t for a silly old man’s old-fashioned writing.”
“You don’t know anything about what’s going on with Mateo and me, and I aim to keep it that way. You’ve invaded my privacy more than enough, and I’m over it.”
“Understandable,” he says, rising to his feet.
“May I ask why you showed up here in the first place?”
“To see how the boy’s doing with cleaning up the place and to deliver these.” He pulls a packet of papers out of the inside pocket of his lightweight coat. “I’m here to get his signature on this cabin’s deed, and then I’ll record it when I can.”
“Oh, no, you won’t. You’re going to leave those papers right here for Mateo to record. I don’t trust anything about you. And you’re going to stay until I can get a mobile notary over here to watch us sign everything.”
“A notary?” he asks, wide-eyed. “I don’t have time for that.”
“You will make time for it,” I order, giving him the look Mama always reserved for me when I acted the fool as a child.
“Mack,” a groggy voice says from the hallway that leads to the bedroom.
“McGregor, my boy. You look like shit,” Mack exclaims, eyeing the hulkish cowboy as he saunters down the hallway.
“I feel like it, too.” I know Mateo well enough now to realize that’s as close as he’ll ever get to admitting physical discomfort.
“I was just talking to your lady friend, Callie, here about the marvellous circumstances surrounding your meeting.”
Mateo frowns. “No thanks to you.”
Crossing the distance to me, he wraps his arm around me, grimacing as he moves his bandaged and braced hand. He leans down, capturing my lips before his eyes turn back to his AA sponsor. “Why are you here? I thought for sure you and Trixie would be preparing a decorated vehicle for Burning Man or something.”
