Page 10 of Unwrapped By the Grumpy Mountain Man
“Your pie is getting cold,” she says out of nowhere. “You haven’t even tasted it yet.” Her big doe eyes watch intently, anticipating my reaction to her homebaked food.
Already hating the idea of further disappointing her, I take my first official bite.Damn it. I knew I’d be fucked. The seasoned chicken she gave a light grill before baking it, is tender and full of flavor, the vegetables, cooked to perfection, the creamy gravy, buttery crust…holy shit, this is good.
She exhales. Did she honestly think I’d hate it?
“While we’re being honest, I’m not interested in being anyone’s mail-order bride either. Definitely not as a means to find love.” Okay. That surprises and intrigues me.
I continue digging into her meal because let’s face it, I’d chop off anyone’s finger who tries to take this plate from me now.
“It’s only fair you know everything you’d get yourself into.” Violet leans over the counter. My eyes dart to her abundant cleavage her movements pushed up further. Quickly, I focus on the pie again.
She’s fucking twenty-two years old, you damn creep.
“The compensation,” she starts. At my confused expression, she takes out her phone and scrolls before showing me the screen.
“Fucking Sanford,” I grunt around my bite.
“If this still stands, my mother’s family home is in danger of being taken from us. I lost her,” she pauses, her eyes illuminating, not with sunshine but tears. “Five years ago. Cancer. My father used to work for Eden PD. Things are a mess at the moment.”
“And for a house, you’re willing to marry a complete stranger from the internet?”
“Not the internet, per se. The agency is reputable. I’ve been researching them. I’m a freelance journalist for Eden Ridge Newspaper.” My body locks up. She notices. “Oh no. Whatever happened in your past is none of my business. Now.”
“Now?” I ask, suspiciously.
“I may have written a piece about you three years ago, but if you hadn’t heard, Sheriff Jones was a crooked dick. And he’s dead, so maybe that’s bad of me to say about the dead?”
“He was an awful human, no regard for human life, greed drove him, and his actions hurt many people. His being dead doesn’t change who he chose to be in life. You’re only expressing facts,” I reassure her.
Leaning back again, I sigh. “Violet, I would love to help, but I can’t do this marriage thing. I have to think of my girls. They need me. My focus needs to be on doing everything in my power to get them home, to me, here in Eden Ridge.”
“Where are they now?” she asks.
I don’t want to get into that right now–at all. What I want is to call Sanford, then drive to Portland and kick his ass.
Knock, knock.
“Daddy!” Lucy’s voice yells through the front door. “Surprise!”
“Shit,” I spit, scurrying to my feet, skidding to a stop before getting to the door. My frantic gaze shoots over to the golden angel standing at the opening of the hallway. “Fuck,” I whisper.How do I explain her?
Lucy’s kicking the door, Angie’s telling her to stop, Silvie’s voice is strained, demanding that Lucy behave. I don’t think or rationalize. I rush to open for my girls.
“Daddy!” Lucy squeals, jumping her little five-year-old body up.
I bend and pick her up. “Baby girl, what have I told you about the door?”
Over by the driveway, Kristy sneers before revving the vintage car that I know is not hers and leaves. Not even a damn wave of acknowledgment. She’s pissed I won weekends. I know. But I can’t focus or care about what she’ll do about it. My worlds are home.
I use my free hand to pull Angie in for a hug before wrapping that same hand around Silvie’s hoodie and kissing the top of her head.
“Get inside, girls. It’s cold and wet out.”
“Who’s that?” Lucy asks as I set her down. Not even two minutes. Of course, she clocked her instantly.
“Hi, ladies. I’m Violet. It’s nice to meet you.” Goldie’s eyes sparkle.
She holds out her hand and shakes both Lucy’s and my shy girl, Angie’s. She holds it out for Silvie next, and as expected, my little woman is full of attitude, glaring up at Violet.
