Page 4 of Picked By the Mountain Man
Her cough pulls me from my wayward thoughts. At this point, even my eyes are starting to water. There’s no way I can leave her like this. She’s miserable, but even so it does nothing to hide her attractiveness. The snug t-shirt and jeans she’s wearing, like the purple dress, hug those curves just like I itch to do.
“Come with me. You can shower at my place.” The offer is out before I have a chance to really think it through. An image of her naked in my space crosses my mind and has my blood humming.
Her eyes jerk to mine, wide with shock. “Really? Why would you help me?”
“I’m not a monster,” I mutter gruffly, chagrined I left such a bad impression she thinks I wouldn’t help someone who’s clearly in need of it.
To be fair, we didn’t meet under the best of circumstances. I was completely caught off guard and not happy to find out the property had slipped through my hands. I’m certainly not going to hold it against her at the moment, though.
She’s still sitting there staring at me as if I’ve grown a second head. “Well, come on then, let’s get you cleaned up.”
That snaps her out of her trance as she scrambles to get up from the ground.
I keep my distance as I lead the way to my property. When we get to the cabin I built myself, I briefly wonder what she might think of it, not entirely sure why I would care in the first place. Shaking my head, I toe off my boots before opening the door.
Turning back, I see she’s taking her tennis shoes off as well. They probably have to be thrown out with the rest of her clothes. The stink is a bitch to get out of fabric. It’s then I realize I don’t even know my curvy neighbor’s name. No wonder she thinks I’m an asshole.
“I’m Keaton, by the way. Sorry for not introducing myself before.”
She nods with a tight smile. “I’m Becca.”
The corner of my mouth tips up. “Becca fits,” I observe.
“I’m just glad my parents didn’t go with Becky.” She wrinkles her nose.
I can’t help my snort. “Well, Becca, let’s get that stink off of you. A pretty thing like you definitely shouldn’t smell this bad.”
Her cheeks turn so pink I can see it beneath the dirt and grime caked on her face. It only adds to the appeal of this sexy, feisty woman who is becoming a distraction I don’t need, nor want. But it seems my body has other ideas as my heart thunders in my chest just from being close to her.
We troop through the house, briefly stopping in the kitchen so I can grab the half-full jug of vinegar and a trash bag from the pantry. Then I lead her through my bedroom to the master bath.
I made the gray slate tile shower in here extra large to accommodate my size. It’ll give her more room to rinse off, and the rainfall showerhead and portable wand will help as well.That’s what I keep telling myself at least, but I’d be lying if I said the thought of her in my shower didn’t have my dick twitching.
“Fill the vinegar jug with water and then use the whole jug to rinse off before soaping up. It’ll help break down the oils clinging to your skin. You can put your clothes in the trash bag. You’ll probably want to throw them away. The oil is pretty tough to get out of fabric. I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you,” I instruct, setting the jug and bag on the counter before pulling out a towel and washrag for her.
She nods. “Thank you. I really appreciate the help.”
“It’s nothing. If we’re going to be neighbors, it’s the least I can do.” I step out, closing the door behind me before I do something stupid like offering to help her soap up.
I lean against the door, listening to the rustling of her clothes as she disrobes on the other side. My eyes fall closed as I imagine all that silky skin on display.
With a groan, I pull myself away from temptation. I grab a blue t-shirt and gray sweats out of my dresser, laying them on the bed for her before heading downstairs to throw something together for dinner for the two of us since it’s getting late.
Chapter Five
Becca
The vinegar seems to be helping more than I thought it would, but the stench is clinging to my nasal passage, so I’m not surehowmuch of a help it actually is. After the vinegar rinse, I use the bar of Irish Spring I find in the shower, soaping up and rinsing three times.
Each time I scrub the bar with the washcloth, images of it on Keaton’s naked body race through my mind. The thought has tingles running over my skin.
And that name. Keaton—such a sexy name for a sexy man.
I’m surprised by his willingness to help me and his hospitality, especially given how our first meeting went. He offered without hesitation, when given the meltdown I was having, I’m surprised he didn’t turn and run farther up the mountain, disappearing into the wilderness. The wilderness where he looks like he would be right at home. The mountain man vibe he’s got going on fits him to a T, just like this adorable cabin.
The craftsmanship of the place took me aback. It has a homey simplicity, but it’s built sturdy with finishes that complement,not compete with the views surrounding us. Like this shower, which is so spacious it could fit three people, or, you know, overweight me and the ginormous owner. It has skylights, which, combined with the rainfall showerhead, make it almost seem like you’re outside in the rain.
The water finally starts to cool after I stand in the luxurious space, scrubbing my skin so long it’s turning red. With a sigh, I turn off the water and step out. I dry off with the extra-large green fluffy towel, wringing as much water as I can out of my hair with a grimace. It’s going to be a tangled mess without conditioner, but the luxury of an actual hot shower trumps the inconvenience. Wrapping the towel around me, I step into the attached bedroom.
