Page 9 of The Mountain Man's Mail Order Temptation
I’m so confused by this man. He’s still not looking at me. Like he doesn’t want to or is afraid to. Except I can’t imagine Anson Blackwood being afraid of anything. Grizzly bears probably play dead aroundhim.
“Sorry I intruded on your peaceful life, Anson. I’ll be gone as soon as I can.”
He tenses beside me, and his eyes slide closed. “It’s better this way. For you.”
If he’s not willing to give me a chance, then he’s right. This is definitely the worst mistake I’ve ever made. Dying my hair pinkis almost laughable in comparison. I was an idiot to think this might work out.
The thought makes my throat tight. When I exchanged pictures with Anson on the Perfect Pairings site, I was so nervous. But I put myself out there, choosing a picture that showed my curves. When he wrote back almost immediately and said I was perfect, I thought maybe I had a chance to be accepted as I am, inside and out. On the way here, I decided to just be myself. If he already liked my picture, he would like me.
Except he never wrote those messages and never saw my picture. I’m an unwelcome house guest to a grumpy mountain man who wants to be left alone.
My eyes sting as I walk away.
“Sleep well, Ellie,” he murmurs.
I find his bedroom and close the door behind me, blocking out the warmth from the main room. The chill works its way under my skin to settle in my bones, making me shiver. And I can’t stop. My whole body is trembling.
The room is clean and uncluttered with a bed that looks hand carved, with slate gray bedding, and a single nightstand. There’s an updated bathroom attached, and I realize that he must have renovated this entire cabin. Everything I’ve seen looks new, from the appliances to the refinished floors. There’s no decor, no curtains or pictures, and yet it is undeniably his home.
Anson wheeled my suitcase in here at some point, probably rolling his eyes at the bright pink sparkle. I open it with jittery fingers, set my muffin tin aside, and change into my regular pajamas. No sense wearing the sexy one I bought special for an intimate evening with him.
I plug in my cell phone and set it on the nightstand. The sheets are cool, and as I climb into his bed and snuggle beneath the covers, his scent fills my senses. It lingers on the pillows and blanket. Deep, woodsy, and all him.
I reach for my cell phone, hoping I have a text from Mel. I could use a friendly voice. Except the message isn’t the one I want.
Grant Chamberlain: You can’t run from me. I can find you anywhere, sweetheart. Even in Montana.
The chill in my bones turns to ice. Suddenly, I can’t breathe.
Oh God. I can’t go back to Denver. I can’t go back to Grant showing up at my work or ordering flowers almost daily just to make me deliver to him. So he can touch my shoulder, or my neck. My hand, my hair… anything he can reach. Brushing him off only excites him more, which terrifies me. And the people who should listen are the ones with dollar signs in their eyes.
If I go back, I won’t ever escape him. I’ll be trapped.
What will I do if Anson sends me away tomorrow? There’s nowhere else to go.
I drag in half a breath and pull up the messages I’d saved from Perfect Pairings. The gruff but sweet words I read over and over. Except none were from him. I’d been catfished by his grandmother like some twisted version of Little Red Riding Hood.
One by one, I delete the messages. I understand why Anson moved here. I’ve never wanted to be alone as much as I do right now.
CHAPTER FIVE
ANSON
Something tugs at my consciousness,drawing me from the place between sleep and awake. I scrub a hand over my eyes. Fuck. Was I sleeping? Impossible. Not with someone so close by.
I shift on the couch, struggling to get comfortable. No matter which way I turn, my feet hang over the edge. After another minute or two, I give up and sit, staring into the fire.
That’s when I hear it—a whimper.
I know that sound.
I’m on my feet and striding down the hall before the next one comes. When it does, it’s barely audible, butpained.
Did I do this to her? Cause Ellie to have nightmares because I’m pushing her away? My gut twists, sharp and deep.
Goddammit. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I was trying to keep her safe.
She moans again, louder, as I push the door open.
