Page 24 of Comforted By The Mountain Man
She nods, still not looking at me, but there’s a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Whatever just happened between us, she felt it too. And that's enough for now.
7
SIERRA
Is this what normal people who date feel? This nervous, giddy energy pulsating through one’s nerves? You don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or jump around like an idiot. I haven’t had a first kiss since Oscar when I had just turned nineteen.
Even then, the actual kiss doesn’t compare to an almost kiss with Asher Hunter.
I’m terrified, but also, too damn addicted to this feeling to let my fears sabotage me further.
We leave Rossetti’s, my stomach so full from the most decadent meal I’ve ever had, and drive to pick up the little Ryder and I came with. Asher and I work seamlessly, packing, taking things to his truck, and all the while, literal electricity buzzes every time we’re near. No matter how far apart the other is, it’s like a magnetic string ties us together.
I can feel him everywhere.
We still have a few hours before Grace drops Ryder off. Asher texts her to bring him to his place instead. Driving further up the mountain, we park in front of Asher’s stunning two-story cabin.
Neat rows of wooden logs make up the walls outside, with black-stained framing that transitions to the roof. Lots of large windows framed in black trim. Huge concrete slabs pile in abstract shapes, bracketing the path outside with hints of mossy green and tiny white buds. He even has planter boxes filled with green plants at the upstairs windows.
How is this place for real? How is this a man’s home?
“You built this?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Um,” he rubs the back of his neck. “Beckett and Grayson helped. Took us eight months to finalize everything.”
He’s actually nervous.
I look up at his boyish expression and smile. “This place is beautiful. Looks like a real home.”
His eyes bounce around my face, settling on my lips. “Welcome home,” he rasps.
“Temporarily,” I whisper, out of breath, wanting to finally feel his mouth pressed to mine.
“Of course,” he amends, clearing his throat. “Let’s get you settled.”
In the same vein as before, we work effortlessly, taking Ryder’s and my stuff inside. There’s a master—his room—on the first floor and two extra bedrooms upstairs. Add to that his alcove for his office downstairs and a finished attic that’s a common area for anything you want it to be.
“We can set up a play area in that corner by the window for Ryder,” he offers.
My chest grows taut as tears fill my eyes. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of for my little boy since I first felt him kick in my pregnant belly. A home. A place of safety, peace, and laughter.
All I can manage is a nod, my throat too tight to speak.
Asher allows me my moment and steers me back downstairs. I kept offering to share a room with Ryder. I’m used to it, but Asher insisted on us both having our own space.
“Back here,” Asher shows me a utility room by the back doors, “is the washer and dryer. Use whatever you guys need. This is your home for now.”
I stare at the luxuries I’ve only ever seen in movies, worried I’ll get too used to this and not know how to go back to living the way we always have.
“Hey,” his gentle voice coaxes. He takes my hand and pulls my body closer to his. “What’s going through that head of yours, Brown Eyes?”
“How are you going to get rid of me once I get used to all this?” I laugh to make light of my truth.
Staring intently, his other hand meets my waist, tugging me against his strong frame. “You should be worried about the other way around,” his voice softly rumbles.
“This feels like a dream,” I whisper so quietly, I almost hope he doesn’t hear it.
“You do feel like a dream.” The hand holding mine lets go and slides around my neck, tangling into my hair. “One I didn’t think I’d ever have the chance of experiencing.”
