Page 33 of The Mountain Man's Curvy Surprisem
“Just wanted to get your signature on the deed so that I can record it, though Ms. Marchand has other plans.”
“I do,” I chime in, looking up at the redheaded mountain man. “I don’t trust Mack as far as I can throw him for obvious reasons. So, I said you or I would record the necessarydocuments. But first, we need a notary to witness us signing them. I’m Googling a traveling service as we speak.”
Mack runs his good hand over his face, still trying to wake up. “Yep, and we should add your name to the deed, too, Shivers.”
His words stun me. “But why?”
“Because you’re my woman now, Calliope, which means your home is my home?—”
“And all thanks to me,” Mack chimes in, ignoring me completely as he stares at Mack.
“Despite you.” Looking down at me, Mateo asks, “Is there anything you want to ask Mack about? Or something you’d like to say to him?”
I’ve been thinking about this ever since Mateo’s surgery, ever since perusing the notebook. Knowing that at some point, I’d have this man on the phone. I never thought it would be in person, though.
My mind feels scrambled, still so early in the morning. “What you did hurt a lot of women’s feelings, including my own. And Mateo has had to pay the price for all of it. You’re a coward, Mack, for making him clean up after you, and what you did was repugnant. Why did you lead so many innocent women on?”
He shrugs. “Because I like writing love letters, and I was lonely at the time. I wanted to vibrate with love so that the Universe would manifest it in my life, as it finally did in the form of Trixie. And you and those other women were beautiful, worth cherishing. Through my love letters, I wanted to express that to you … no string attached.”
I frown. He makes his motivations sound so altruistic, but the pain he left behind can’t be denied. “But there were promises made. Fake strings most definitely attached. You broke a dozen hearts.”
Mack adds, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Callie. You were always my favorite gal to talk to. So sunny and optimistic in your letters and emails.”
“Emails I never got to read,” Mateo grumbles. “Though Calliope thought I had, which caused catastrophic problems between us.”
Mack shifts his weight uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry.” Eyeing me, he asks, “Any word on when the notary will be here?”
“Within the hour,” I answer.
“That’ll cost a fortune.”
I shrug. “You’re paying for it.”
He grimaces, but he doesn’t argue. “So what’ll we do until then?”
“Work on loading your journals into the back of whatever vehicle you brought,” I say firmly. “Because I plan on keeping Mateo far too busy to transcribe any more of your writings.”
“But the journals were a part of the?—”
Mateo cuts him off. “The deal I made before learning you stole my identity and used it to string along countless women. I’ll have my buddies help me move your journals into your storage unit. But I won’t spend another moment on them. Got it?”
Mack concedes, nodding his head.
Time flies as we stack the journals in the back of Mack’s beat-up white Toyota 4Runner. Mateo refuses to sit this process out despite my numerous warnings. By the end, I can tell the Ranger is in pain, though he hides it well. I heat a plate of tamales for him and get him a glass of sweet tea and a couple of Tylenol as we wait at the kitchen bar.
Finally, the notary shows, and we work through the paperwork quickly and efficiently. There’s no way I’m going to let Mack scam me or Mateo any further. After everything’scomplete, the old man beelines for the door, clearly anxious to escape.
Mateo follows him, face unreadable as he pats him on the back and says, “Thank you again for everything you did to help me get sober. But what you did on Mountain Mates was unforgivable. I’d better never catch you using my photo or information for dating purposes again. Or anybody else’s for that matter.”
“I promise. Besides, I’ve turned over a new leaf with Trixie.” Hanging his head and finally looking apologetic, the old man leaves with a half-hearted wave in my direction.
Mateo’s face looks ambivalent as he closes the front door behind the old man. Mack’s car engine roars before disappearing into the quiet of early morning, the triumphant cries of songbirds replacing the mechanical sounds.
“Good riddance,” Mateo says, crossing the distance to me and sweeping me into his arms with a grunt.
“But your hand,” I gasp, grabbing a hold of his neck.
“It’s all good.” He grimaces. “Now that I’m more or less back to my senses, I need to make love to you, Calliope. Do things the way I should have in the first place.” Mateo’s tender voice makes my pulse pound, anticipation sizzling between my legs.
