by Susan Stoker
Summer knew she was an introvert. Sure, she could socialize with anyone, but she had a hard time making lifelong friends. All her life she’d met people, but not one took the extra effort to keep in touch once she moved away. Not high school friends, not college friends, not friends from work. Summer wasn’t sure what it was about her that made people not want to form close attachments that would survive a long-distance relationship. Losing her job was no different. All of her coworkers were very sympathetic and made all sorts of offers to get together for lunch and nights out, but not one of them followed through. Summer was used to it.
She made friends easily enough, but they weren’t the kind of friends Summer saw on television and read about in books. They weren’t life-long friends who she could call up for a girls-night-out or crash at one of their houses temporarily.
One day she’d had enough. She’d been living in a crappy apartment where she didn’t feel safe and didn’t have any job prospects on the horizon. Summer packed up what was important to her, and just left. She drove her piece of crap car until it too died on her. She used the last of her money to get a bus ticket to the little town of Big Bear in the mountains of California.
Summer had seen the little motel called Big Bear Lake Cabins one day, and miraculously there was a “Help Wanted” sign in the office window. The owner wasn’t very friendly, but apparently, he was desperate, because he told her she had the job.
So here she was. No car. No money. All of her belongings fit into one suitcase. She was pathetic, but she was also free. No mortgage, no expectations. She had nothing, she was nobody. And for now it was heaven.
When she’d arrived with her suitcase in hand, Henry, the owner of the cabins, had been blunt with her.
“I don’t have any open cabins you can live in, but if you really need a place to stay, you can sleep in the building next to the office.”
“The storage building?” Summer had asked incredulously, looking askance at the tiny building that looked like it could hold a maid’s cart, and little else.
“Yup. There’s no kitchen or bathroom, but there’s a small shower and toilet in the back of the office that you can use.”
Summer had taken a deep breath and almost told Henry where he could shove his pathetic motel and his not-so-generous housing offer, but she bit her lip and meekly nodded. She really didn’t have a choice.
When Summer opened the storage building she saw that it did have a small sink, she was vastly relieved to know there was at least some running water in her new “home.” The sink was used mostly to fill the mop bucket, but it didn’t matter. Water was water. The building had no heat or no air conditioning, which in the summer months wasn’t a huge deal because it rarely got sweltering hot up in the mountains. Winter would be a bit dicier, but Summer figured she’d worry about that when the time came. Maybe by then she’d have earned enough money to move into a real apartment and it’d be a moot point. The little storage shack wasn’t very sturdy, but Summer knew that beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Her bed was a cot up against the wall. Henry had dug the thing out of some closet somewhere when she’d asked where she was supposed to sleep. It was missing one foot so it sat lop-sided and swayed precariously when she sat or lay down on it. Luckily, it was one of the back feet that was gone, so her head wasn’t hanging lower than her feet all night.
Mops, brooms, and shelves that held various cleaning implements and liquids surrounded Summer. It smelled like ammonia and other funky cleaning supplies, but she was thankful for it. She supposed some people would look at her and at her life and turn up their nose or even feel sorry or pity for her, but after living a so-called “perfect” life, and still being miserable, at least now Summer only had to rely on herself. It was liberating.
The only issue had with her new life was that she was always hungry. She wasn’t making enough money to be able to buy huge meals, and besides that, she had nowhere to put anything. She had no refrigerator and no stove to cook anything. Henry grudgingly provided breakfast for her, of course subtracting it from her already meager pay, but Summer was on her own for lunch and dinner.
Henry had explained why he served a continental breakfast to the people staying at the motel. “I sure as hell don’t want to, it’s wasted money if you ask me, but because of all those fancy-ass hotels and things now, people expect it. They’re cheapskates and want more and more for less and less money,” he’d complained to her.
Summer had just shook her head. She didn’t dare say aloud what she was thinking, namely that Henry himself was the cheapskate.
“Now I have to go shopping every damn week and buy fruit and shit. It’s expensive and I hate it. I get granola bars and cereal as well. The guests usually don’t stay and chat, they just grab the free breakfast I provide for them and head out to the slopes or to the lake.” Henry finally got to the heart of the matter, at least what was important to Summer. “I suppose it’d be okay if you grabbed something each morning as well, but don’t go crazy. If I catch you taking more than you can eat and taking advantage of me, I’ll change my mind.”
“Thank you, Henry. That’s very generous of you. I’ll just take something small each morning. I won’t take advantage.”
Henry had just grunted and said in a low voice, “Hope it stays that way.”
Even though Summer had promised to only take something small, she usually managed to grab an extra piece of fruit or bread at breakfast that she could snack on during the day. Dinner was usually out of the question. Summer couldn’t afford to actually pay to eat at any of the nearby lodges, and she had no transportation, or money, to eat at any of the fast food restaurants in town. So, after cleaning all the cabins, Summer either took a hike around the nearby lake, or she went back to her little cubby hole and tried to ignore her rumbling stomach.
Luckily, it hadn’t been too cold, or hadn’t been so far, but the warm weather was coming to a close. It was getting colder in the mountains. Henry had told Summer she could keep her job over the winter, but he warned her that she’d make even less money than she did now. They weren’t as busy in the winter and he couldn’t afford to pay her the full salary he was paying her now. Summer knew it was absurd. He wasn’t paying her very much as it was, but she agreed anyway. She figured it’d be a place to stay over the winter if she needed it, and if she felt like leaving, she would. Nothing was tying her here.
For the most part, Summer was satisfied. She was just tired. Tired of merely existing, but she didn’t know what to do. This was it for her. This was her life. Yes, she had a master’s degree, but it hadn’t helped keep her marriage intact, and hadn’t helped her keep her job. So be it.
Summer turned away from her cart with an armful of clean towels and turned, without looking, toward the door to the cabin. She bounced off a hard chest and would have fallen if the man she’d just plowed into hadn’t grabbed her elbows and steadied her. Summer looked up and gulped. She was looking at the best looking man she’d ever seen in her life. No lie. The best looking and scariest looking. The man was huge. At least a head taller than her five-eight. His arms were big. His hands were big. But the scariest thing about him, was the look on his face. He had a five o’clock shadow that didn’t hide the scars that covered the right side of his face. The scars pulled at his mouth and made it look like he was grimacing at her. His hair was dark and a little wild around his head. He was dressed head to toe in black. Each thing, taken separately, wouldn’t have worried her, but when Summer took in all of it at once, it was intimidating and actually scared her. But when the man didn’t actually do or say anything, just stood there, looking down at her with an incomprehensible look on his face, she got a little pissed. After a few seconds, when he still didn’t say anything, just continued to keep hold of her elbows and stare down at her, Summer knew she had to do something.
“Uh, sorry, sir,” she stammered out. Summer would’ve backed away from him if she could, but he was still holding on to her elbows where he’d grabbed
her to steady her.
Summer expected him to apologize back, or at least respond verbally to her words, but he merely held on to her for a beat more, then let go and took a step back. He nodded at her, then stepped around her and headed toward another cabin that was nearby.
Summer watched him go. She wished she could’ve heard his voice. She bet it was low and rumbly. His butt was tight and….shit. What was she thinking? Summer whipped around and headed into the cabin she was cleaning. He wasn’t for her. No one was anymore. It wasn’t easy, but she put the big man out of her head and went back to the monotonous job of straightening up the cabin. If her thoughts strayed back to the man and his delectable ass every now and then, she figured no one would blame her. He was a fine specimen of the male species.
Mozart walked into his cabin and chuckled under his breath at the maid’s actions. She’d startled him as she ran right into him as he’d walked past her, but luckily he hadn’t knocked her over. He didn’t think he’d been walking quietly, and had thought for sure she knew he was there, but obviously he’d been wrong.
Mozart had been surprised at how well the woman fit in his arms. If he’d pulled her into him, her head would’ve fit right in the crook of his shoulder. Mozart couldn’t tell what kind of hair she had, as it was pulled back into a severe looking knot at the back of her head. Her hair seemed to be a mixture of light colors, but he could also tell she wasn’t young. Mozart was surprised to see that she wasn’t a college kid earning money while taking classes, but she also wasn’t elderly, working because she was bored. If he had to guess, Mozart would say she was probably around his age. Mid-thirties most likely. The Big Bear Lake Cabins was the last place he’d have expected to find someone like her.
She was attractive. Mozart admitted it, but didn’t like it. He was busy. But she smelled clean, she had laugh lines at the sides of her eyes, of course she’d probably call them crow’s feet. The complete package looked good.
Mozart laughed at himself. His thoughts were ridiculous. He’d had seen the look of interest in the woman’s eyes, before it’d turned to consternation. He’d seen it time and time again. Women would first think he was good looking, and then once they’d see his scars, they’d be turned off. But now that Mozart thought about it a bit more, the maid hadn’t seemed turned off, just startled. Once she’d had a chance to gain her equilibrium, she’d looked him straight in the eyes and even looked as if she was getting pissed at him. It’d been a long time since a woman had bothered to show him any real emotion. Mozart was too used to women being fake and doing anything they could to get him into bed. And that pissed look on her face was kinda cute.
Mozart shook his head and tried to put the maid out of his mind. He had to focus on Hurst and on where he might be. As good looking as she’d been, he didn’t have time for a roll in the hay. He thought about the information Tex had sent to him before he’d left Riverton. The man believed to be Hurst, was apparently camping out somewhere in the forest surrounding the lake. There’d been reports of petty thefts of small items that Mozart would bet his life had been Hurst. He pulled out the terrain maps of Big Bear and tried to narrow down where the son-of-a-bitch could be holed up. The forest surrounding the area was huge, but Mozart would find him if he was there. Mozart had been trained by the best. Hurst would have no idea he was being stalked until it was too late.
Chapter Three
Summer tried not to be aware of the big man in cabin three, but it was hard not to notice him. Every time she cleaned his cabin, she was aware of how good he smelled. She only allowed herself to bury her face into one of his towels once, and felt ashamed after she did it. He didn’t know she existed, and that was par for the course. First of all, she was a damn maid, and second he was beautiful, even with his scars. She wasn’t. She wasn’t putting herself down; she just knew what she was and what she wasn’t. In her former life she knew she needed to lose some weight, but that was hard to do with a desk job. But now that she really only ate one meal a day, she’d lost a lot of weight, too much. She figured it wasn’t helping her looks any.
The man was extremely neat. All of his clothes were put away in the drawers in the room. His shoes were lined up next to the wall. Any towels that he used were hung up over the shower rod. He’d made his bed every morning. There really wasn’t much to clean in his room, but Summer always vacuumed and changed his towels out. She saw him twice at the office. The first time he was eating breakfast and was dressed to go hiking. She saw his backpack against a wall and he was wearing boots, a flannel shirt, and khakis. The second time she saw him was when she knocked on his door to clean his room and he opened the door, nodded at her, and left. She wondered what he was doing here and how long he was staying.
Most of the time when people came to the cabins they were there for a long weekend and almost always with someone else. It was unusual for someone to stay as long as this man had and be by himself. Summer had noticed he went hiking most days, so maybe he just needed the time off of work and wanted to be alone. She mentally shrugged. She had another long day ahead of her. She ignored her rumbling tummy and forced herself to close and lock the cabin door and head for the next room.
* * *
Mozart blew out a breath. It’d been a long day, but a productive one. He’d found evidence that a person had been in the mountains nearby. Mozart figured it had to be Hurst. He was careful not to disturb the primitive campsite so Hurst wouldn’t know someone was onto him. This was as close as Mozart had ever been to catching him. He considered calling Cookie and seeing if he’d come up and help him, but decided against it. Cookie and Fiona were still working through Fiona’s issues, and he didn’t want to disturb them when they had a rare week off.
Mozart eased himself into the chair on the front porch of the small office building. He’d noticed that each night the people staying in the cabins generally gathered around the office to chat. He wasn’t one to crave the attention of others, but he wasn’t ready to go back into his cabin yet. The evening was beautiful.
Mozart held a beer loosely in his hand and watched as a SUV pulled into the parking lot. Three women climbed out. They were the kind of beautiful that came from hours spent at the spa and in the bathroom before stepping a foot outside. They were all wearing skin-tight dresses and high heels. They looked like they’d just spent a night out celebrating something. The cabins weren’t exactly the Hilton, so Mozart wondered briefly what had brought them there. Being a man, he also admired the way their dresses showed off their bodies. It’d been a while since he’d been with a woman, and these were some fine looking specimens.
“Oh shit, Cindy,” the woman in the blue dress said a bit too loud, “he looked hot from the car, but you can have him, I wouldn’t be able to look at him while fucking him.” All three of the women giggled drunkenly.
“But you could always have him do you doggy style then you wouldn’t have to look at his face,” the woman, who was apparently Cindy, said. “I’d do him, look at his muscles!”
Unfortunately, Mozart had gotten used to those kinds of harsh comments from women since he’d been injured. He chugged the rest of his beer and shifted to stand up and leave. He didn’t care what they thought, but he wasn’t going to sit there and listen to it. The shallow comments from the women didn’t deserve a response.
Before he could move, he felt a hand slide over his chest from behind in a tender caress and felt a woman lean over him.
Before Mozart could say or do anything, he heard a husky voice say from right behind his right ear, loudly enough for the three bitches to hear, “Come on, honey, those three orgasms you gave me before dinner weren’t enough. I can’t believe you can stay hard that long. Before you call for the jet can we have one more round in the shower?” The mystery woman nuzzled the side of his face, his scarred side, as she playfully ran both hands up and down his chest.
Mozart’s body locked tight. His teeth clenched and he could feel his jaw clench. Even not knowing exactly what the woman’s game
was, her tone, and words, made his cock stand up and take notice. He brought up a hand up and wrapped it around one of her forearms as she continued to caress him with her other hand. Mozart didn’t know if he wanted to wrench it away from his body, or force it down lower into his lap. He did neither, just held on as her hand moved up and down his chest and he watched as the bitches’ mouths dropped open and they stared as they walked past him on their way into the small office.
The woman who had her hands all over him apparently wasn’t quite done. As the trio passed by, he felt her head turn toward them as she sneered in their direction, proving she knew they could hear her the entire time, “He’s all man, and he’s all mine. If you’re stupid enough to not be able to look past his face, then you don’t deserve to have a man spend all night pleasuring you. And believe me, he knows how to use every inch of his body for my satisfaction.”
The woman then stood up, grabbed Mozart’s hand, and pulled him off the porch toward his small cabin. Mozart didn’t even look back to see what the other women did, he only had eyes for the dynamo who was towing him to his room.
Summer’s heart was beating at what felt like a million miles an hour. What this man must think of her. But she couldn’t stand there and let those bitches say those things about him. While Summer didn’t really know him, she felt as if she has a small connection to him. After all, she’d been cleaning his room and handling his linens…linens that had been up against his body. No one deserved to be treated that way.
Summer had no idea what happened to him and how he’d gotten the scars on his face, but she had a feeling he was probably military of some sort. He had that look about him and maybe he had some sort of PTSD and that’s why he went on the long walks in the woods. Those women being rude to him felt wrong on so many levels. He was always polite to the employees at the motel. He was neat. He was quiet. But if Summer had stopped to actually think about what she was about to do, she never would’ve done it. She was pretty embarrassed, but she had to keep going until the women were gone.
