Page 15 of Wrecked By the Mountain Man
The vibrant artist, yes, but also the woman beneath, with an intuitive understanding that cuts through my façade.
“Why are you even here, Penny?” The question escapes me before I can stop it, laced with a desperation I don’t intend to reveal. “Why are you trying to help me?"
She smiles, a gorgeous curve of her pink lips. “Maybe… maybe you need to heal, Edward. Maybe your art needs to breathe. Maybeyouneed to breathe.”
Her thumb brushes gently over the back of my hand, a tender, electrifying stroke that sends shivers down my spine.
We finish our soup in companionable silence, the weight of the conversation replaced by a quiet intimacy.
I find myself watching her, captivated by the light in her eyes, the playful curve of her mouth, the warmth she exudes.
Is she right? Can I finally…breathe?
Chapter 5
Edward
After we’ve cleared the dishes and the cabin is once again tidied just the way I like it, the methodical routine of my dull life resumes.
The wind howls, the fire crackles and remains the only source of light as dusk falls.
But now, the difference is...her.
Penny moves away from the kitchen as I wipe down the bench one final time, the firelight catching the curves of her hips as she bends to adjust her makeshift bed.
I have to look away before my thoughts venture somewhere they shouldn't again.
Her presence fills every corner of this cabin I built to keep the world out, and suddenly the shadows don't feel quite so suffocating.
Within a few hours of her being here, she's turned my sanctuary into something else entirely.
“It’s really coming down now,” Penny says, now moving to peer out the window.
“We’ll be cut off from the town,” I confirm, my gaze fixed on the endless swirl of white snow. “No one’s getting in or out for a while.”
“Well…” she says slowly, arms crossing under her chest in a way that makes itveryhard not to look. “Guess we’ll have to make our own fun, then.”
I narrow my eyes. “Fun?”
She shrugs, her lips curling into that infuriatingly playful smile. “What else am I supposed to do, Edward? Sit here, sketching until my pencil breaks? I'm an artist. I get bored easily.”
My fists clench as images I don’t want to picture slam into my head. Penny laughing with some stranger, tossing her golden hair back, letting his hands on her because she neededsomething to do.
I can't help myself. “So what then? You just… find some random guy to fuck when you’re bored?”
Her eyes widen, then narrow, and that little spark of fire in her ignites. She steps closer, tilting her head like she’s dissecting me. “You think you’re random, Edward Rogers?”
Heat floods my chest. “That’s not what I—”
“I just think it's a good thing you’re so… well-stocked, Edward. And such a gracious host.” She turns, her smile teasing. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh God,” I mutter, bracing myself.
She giggles. “Don’t worry, it’s not about finding yourself in a spiritual desert, though I could definitely turn that into a modern art installation. It’s about being cozy.”
She walks over to the fireplace, holding her hands out to the flames. The light dances over her curves, highlighted by her choice and style of clothes.
She knows exactly what she’s doing. And God help me, it’s working.
