Page 4 of Her Mountain Man Outlaw
“But nothing.” He finally straightens up to face me, stubbornly crossing his arms. “You’re safe here. I’m not letting you leave while there’s a snowstorm outside. Period.”
He sounds irritated, but there’s also an undercurrent of protectiveness. Like keeping me safe is important to him, but he’s…mad about it? I can’t figure this guy out.
“Well…thank you,” I say eventually. “I appreciate you letting me stay.”
Before I can say anything else, he turns his back on me again like there’s nothing else to say. Heck, I guess there isn’t. Either I stay here with him or freeze to death in my car—not much of a contest. And anyway, it’s just for one night. One night with this mysterious, scowling stranger who grunts more than he talks.
How bad could it be?
4
MADDOX
I knowI’m being a dick. Hell, I’m not exactly the kind of guy to be a warm and welcoming host. It’s been years since I’ve had an actual conversation with anyone, and this girl is just…fuck, she’s so damn sweet. So young and beautiful, with those big brown eyes and plump pink lips. It feels almost wrong for me to talk to her. Like I’m corrupting her just by being in the same room.
When I catch sight of her in my peripheral vision, I feel like an even bigger asshole. She looks so uncomfortable, hovering awkwardly like she’s painfully aware of how much I don’t want her here. I press a hand to my pounding head, sucking in a breath as guilt gnaws at me. It’s not like she asked to run out of gas in the middle of a snowstorm. I doubt she’s thrilled at having to stay with a big brute like me all night, and I should be trying to make her feel welcome instead of acting like a jerk.
“You can sit down,” I tell her, forcing myself to look at her. “Make yourself at home.”
“Oh…thank you.” She sits in the armchair by the fire, the light catching her eyes, making them sparkle.
Fuck, does she really have to be so pretty?
“You want something to drink?” I ask her, desperate for something to do, anything to distract myself from her thick curves.
“I’m okay, thanks.” She smiles tentatively, and I can tell she’s just trying to be polite. Not asking for anything because I already made her feel like a burden.
“You like hot chocolate?” I ask.
“Yeah…”
“I’m making you a hot chocolate.”
To my surprise, she grins at me, her face lighting up in a way that makes my heart squeeze.
“Thank you,” she says in her sweet little voice. “That would be great.”
I hurry to the kitchen before she can see the effect she’s having on me. The bulge in my boxers feels pretty damn noticeable, and I splash my face with cold water, trying to snap myself out of it. I grab a couple of mugs and make us both a hot chocolate, adding cream and marshmallows like I used to do for my sister. Then I carry them into the living room.
“Thank you,” the girl says, taking a mug from my hands. “This looks amazing.” She takes a deep sip, then adds, “I’m Sophia, by the way.”
“Maddox.”
It’s out before I can stop it. My real name. A slip of the tongue.
Shit.
Whenever I have to give someone a name, I go by John. Never my real name. A few minutes in Sophia’s company and I’m already making mistakes. Letting things slip. For some reason, it didn’t occur to me to lie to her.
“Nice to meet you, Maddox.”
She smiles at me warmly, and I swear my heart somersaults in my chest. I haven’t heard my real name in years. It sounds like heaven in Sophia’s honeyed voice.
Fuck, this is dangerous.
I’m getting a taste of things I can never have. Things I’ve cut myself off from. I’ve already messed up once, said too much. But when I look at Sophia curled up on my chair, sipping her hot chocolate with a smile on her face, I can’t help the longing that stirs inside me. It’s like an ache, clawing at me from the inside out.
Goddammit, I really need to pull myself together.
