Page 17 of Trick or Treat with the Mountain Man
No woman had had that kind of effect on me in years.
What if she doesn’t come back?
A sinking feeling shot through me. I should have at least gotten her phone number. Or given her mine.
And did I have to be such a surly asshole to her?
I hadn’t dated in a long time, and my skills with women were rusty. But even I knew that they liked a little romance before a good fuck.
Knotting my brow, I shook my head and tried to relax the tight feeling in my chest. My trouble was, I didn’t think I wanted just a good fuck from sweet Ava Appleton. I was afraid I wanted something more. Something I’d set aside years ago. Something I’d been convinced wasn’t possible.
The neighbors know her.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I remembered that. It wouldn’t be comfortable going over there to ask about her, but if she didn’t come back, at least I had a way to track her down.
And the mountain wasn’t that big. Most of the people who lived here probably knew her.
***As I pulled in, I saw a small package sitting on my front porch.
Damn it. Don’t tell me I missed her.
I’d stayed home for three days straight hoping she’d come back. It figured she’d come when I finally had to venture out.
On my way back from my physical therapy appointment, I’d stopped by the Deer Springs library and asked about a children’s book that had a mannequin with blue eyes. In the long run, the librarian, a well-put together woman named Brook, found it for me after searching through description after description.
It was calledIrma’s Big Lie, and it was an old book from the seventies.
Hopping out of my truck, I bounded up the front steps and picked up the package.
Cookies. Unfortunately, no longer warm. With a little note attached.
Hey Tyler!
Looks like I missed you. You must be a busy man. Have some cookies. I’ll come by with an Arkansas Jam Cake later this week. I hope to see you then!
xoxo
Ava
p.s. I had fun the other night! Thanks for spending Halloween with me.
Frustration rolled through me. After three days with no visit, I’d resigned myself to the idea that she wasn’t coming back.
I would have canceled my therapy in Fernwood if I’d known she was coming by today.
My thoughts drifted back to the envelope. I’d been waiting to open it until she was here again, but curiosity was getting the best of me.
I took the cookies and my town run haul inside, sat down on the couch and grabbed the envelope off my coffee table where it had been sitting for three days straight.
Pulling out one of Ava’s cookies, I looked at the envelope as I started munching.
In the end, I couldn’t do it. We’d open the envelope together. It felt fitting somehow.
Chapter 8
Ava
I went back a week later with a warm, freshly baked Arkansas Jam Cake in my car.
