Page 2 of Picked By the Mountain Man
I don’t mean to be insensitive. They did just lose a family member, but from what I witnessed the last five years, they left the old man on his own. Never once did I see anyone come and visit him. Not that I could blame them. He was a cantankerous old coot who refused to listen to reason.
Dropping the axe, I reach for my blue and green flannel shirt and use it to mop up the trails of perspiration rolling down my face. I shed the garment not long after I started chopping up the tree. It may be fall, but the temperatures are still warm enough to have a guy working up a sweat.
Tossing the shirt back on the side-by-side UTV, I survey how much I’ve completed so far. My hands fall to my hips at the realization of how much more I have to get done. I sigh at the thought while my right hand rubs at my beard.
The rustling of the overgrown underbrush in the orchard draws my attention. A woman emerges, stumbling into the open, clad in a dress and flip-flops of all things. The purple fabric covered in burrs and vines clings to her lush curves like saran wrap. There are two twigs tangled in her honey blonde curls, which just brush the tops of her shoulders.
She stops short as she catches sight of me. “Oh,” she gasps, her jaw dropping.
I wait for her to say something, but she continues standing there, mouth gaping like a fish.
“What are you doing out here? Don’t you know you’re trespassing?” I finally break the silence, since she doesn’t seem inclined to.
Her eyes narrow as her arms cross under plump tits, creating spectacular cleavage. “Excuse me? I’m trespassing? No, you’re trespassing, and you’ve cut up my tree.”
My brows furrow at her announcement. “Your tree? Look lady, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but this is my property, and this tree fell over on it. It was rotten, just like the others I’ve had to clean up because they haven’t been taken care of for far too long.”
“But this is my orchard!” She stabs a finger at the ground.
“No, this is my orchard, well it will be as soon as the paperwork is signed.”
“Look, I don’t know where you got the idea it’s yours, but this was my grandparents’ property and I just bought it from my parents. I didn’t know it had gotten into such disrepair, but don’t worry, I’ll be whipping it back into shape first thing.”
Blood thunders in my ears at her declaration. “What do you mean you bought? I was in the process of buying it!”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know anything about that. My parents never said they had an offer on the place. I’m sorry if that was the case, but it’s mine now, and I have plans for it. I’m going to get it back into working order.”
I scoff, “You’ve got to be joking. The place is falling apart. Half the trees need to be cut down they’re so rotten.” I rub at my beard, my frustration mounting.
She shrugs. “That’s fine. I figured I would have to cut some down to make room for the tent platforms anyway.”
My eyes widen. “What do you mean, tent platforms?”
“I’m putting in glamping tents for tourists to stay in.”
“Like hell you are. I don’t want a bunch of strangers ruining the peace up here.”
“Well, since I own the land, it seems you don’t have much say in what I do.”
“Yeah, we’ll just see about that. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done. Once you realize that, you’ll be selling to me quicker than a rattlesnake strike.”
“The only snake around here is you. I wouldn’t sell to you even if I were so broke I had to strip to make money.” With that, she spins around, flip-flops slapping as she stomps off through the brush back the way she came.
Her parting shot leaves me with my jaw hanging open and my dick twitching at the thought of seeing those plush curves naked and wrapped around a pole.
Chapter Three
Becca
Oooh, the audacity of that Neanderthal. I can’t believe he was accusing me of trespassing when he was the one cutting up my tree. Where does he get off claiming this as his property?
My parents never said anything about anyone being interested in the place. He must be mistaken. He probably just assumed it was as good as his and would snap it up when my grandfather died.
Well, tough nuggets. It’s mine now. I bought it fair and square. There’s no way I’m walking away, even if it’s just to stick it to the buffoon.
The stupid, ruggedly handsome buffoon. Good Lord, the man could stop traffic. Of course, a man that annoying would be freaking good looking. I almost swallowed my tongue when I all but fell out of the brush and saw him standing shirtless in front of me.
Thick biceps, corded forearms, and mountainous pecs glistening with sweat on display for the world to see, with asmattering of hair narrowing into a strip like an arrow pointing to the rather obscene bulge in his tan pants.
