Loving The Mountain Man

by Baker, Tory

  Loving The Mountain Man

  Tory Baker

  Contents

  Dedication

  1. Hudson

  2. Jules

  3. Hudson

  4. Jules

  5. Hudson

  6. Jules

  7. Hudson

  8. Jules

  9. Hudson

  10. Jules

  11. Hudson

  12. Jules

  13. Hudson

  14. Jules

  15. Hudson

  16. Jules

  17. Hudson

  18. Jules

  19. Hudson

  20. Jules

  21. Hudson

  22. Jules

  23. Hudson

  24. Jules

  25. Hudson

  26. Jules

  27. Hudson

  Epilogue One

  Epilogue Two

  About the Author

  Also by Tory Baker

  Copyright © 2020 by Tory Baker

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Dedication

  To my children, you will always be my sunshine on a cloudy day. <3

  1

  Hudson

  I never thought I’d walk the downtown streets of Thickwood, Colorado, to see the curvy brunette that owns Jules’ Junk, let alone buy something from her shop, yet that’s where I am right now. I park my truck in the parking lot of Holt’s to pick up some supplies for the furniture I’m building. This new hobby I’ve taken up since leaving everything behind in New York is keeping me busy.

  At the age of thirty-nine, I was done living a life full of business meetings, emails pinging non-stop, and phone calls. I needed a change, and I needed it fast. It took me a year to sell off the real estate that made me who I am—Hudson Walker, former owner of H&W Condominiums.

  Starting out at the age of twenty-four and plugging away for fifteen years without a break in sight was enough for me to call it quits. My parents understood. Hell, my own father did the same thing with his shipping business shortly after my sister and I graduated high school. Now, both of them are on a two-month cruise and living their lives. The only thing that will have them planting roots again will be grandchildren.

  My feet take me to Jules’ Junk. My truck is already loaded up with supplies to start on the dining room table I’m working on, but I can’t leave yet. Not until I see Jules. Her smile sets my world back on its axis. Her soft, golden blonde hair with shots of caramel through it is waist-length, and I’ve dreamed about it more times than I care to admit. Having it wrapped around my fist while she’s deep throating my cock, Jules on her hands and knees while I fuck her from behind, or even her riding me, her hair flowing down, neck arched with the ends of her hair hitting my thighs. I’ve often wondered what she looks like underneath her signature jeans and t-shirt. Is her tan deep, or is she just sun-kissed? Her breasts, which I know are more than a handful, even for my large hands, and that ass of hers capture my thoughts every time I see her. She doesn’t even know that, when she walks away, there’s a sway to her hips that has me begging for relief.

  “Fuck,” I grunt out loud, trying to get my cock to stand down as I get closer to her shop.

  Her window is fully decorated with this week’s display. It seems it’s more of a metal works with hints of wood. The combination should look cluttered and overcrowded, yet it’s not. The mix of new and old works well together.

  I open the door, listening to the bells ring that let Jules know someone is here. The noise that I hear once the door closes has me shaking my head. How anyone could love eighties hair band music along with the ballads that come with them, I’ll never know. Somehow, Jules’ does, though. It almost sets my teeth on edge. Today, she has Skid Row humming through the speakers, and I can hear her singing out of tune, “I Remember You,” even though she’s farther inside the store, with her back turned to me. Right beside her is Beau, her French bulldog. He doesn’t even lift his head up from the ground, completely content with her. And, boy, do I get it. If I had Jules as my own, I’d never let her leave my sight. I get the full effect of her sweet body encased in the tight denim she’s wearing.

  “Just a minute,” she says without looking over her shoulder to see who walked in. This woman. Doesn’t she know, even in a small town, things can happen?

  “Take your time, Jules,” I tell her as I walk around the front of the shop, trying to keep my eyes off her heart-shaped ass and not look like a damn creeper.

  “Oh, hey. Give me just a few seconds. I’ll be right over,” she says over her shoulder when she realizes it’s me, a soft smile playing on her face.

  “I have nothing but time, beautiful.” Her smile gets wider then she returns to what she was doing as I continue looking around her shop at the new things she’s brought in this week.

  2

  Jules

  Hudson is here. I’m a disheveled mess, there’s paint on my shirt—hell, probably on my face, too—and my hair is haphazardly in a knot at the nape of my neck. I was in the middle of painting a sign when my thick long hair got in the way. I really should go visit Cora at Hair to Eternity. The way my week is going, it won’t be happening, though. I blow a puff of air out, trying to get the tendrils of hair that are falling down out of my way as I finish boxing up a package that a customer asked me to ship.

  Jules’ Junk may seem like just an antique shop, but it’s so much more. I rehab and restore everything I absolutely can, or I repurpose and breathe new life into items that can’t be fixed. What I really wasn’t expecting was Hudson. He only comes into town once every two weeks to get supplies, and then he goes back to his home on the mountain where he stays until his next trip down.

  He’s been doing this for a few months now, and it’s almost like a cat and mouse game. I see the heated looks he sends my way when he doesn’t think I’m paying attention, but it’s hard not to when his presence is like a beacon to my soul.

  “Come on, Beau. Let’s go say hello to Hudson,” I tell my big-eared, pot-bellied Frenchie. Beau was a gift to myself last year. Being single at the age of twenty-six and needing someone to talk to besides myself, he was the best gift ever. His soft, black, velvet-like fur, the way he loves to cuddle in the curve of my knee while sleeping, and how he’s always by my side gives me comfort. I swear he even listens to me when I talk, cocking his head to the side with his cute face.

  I walk to where I last spotted Hudson. He’s looking at the new industrial hanging light. That thing was a son of a gun to hang, especially by myself.

  “Hey, Hudson, sorry about that. I had a customer ask me to ship one of my handmade signs. How are you today?” I ask while wiping my hands down the half-style apron I have tied around my waist.

  “I’m good, Jules. How’s your week going?” His voice is smooth like the finest whiskey money can buy.

  “It’s going, staying busy. Not so much with in-store purchases, but my online orders seem to be going through the roof lately. Are you doing your usual stock up before heading home?” I’ve seen the place Hudson bought. It’s everything money can buy and then some, yet he always remains aloof. No one really knows what he does up there.

  “Yep, going to start on a dining room table. Holt’s didn’t have the type of wood I need in stock, so I have to wait for the delivery to come in. It’s going to go nicely with the rest of the furniture I’ve been building for the inside of my house.” I stand there with my mouth gaping open. This is the most Hudson has ever said at
one time to me. Sure, he comes in, we say hello, he looks around, and sometimes he’ll buy something, but sometimes he doesn’t.

  “Cat got your tongue?” he asks to get my attention.

  I close my jaw before saying, “Sorry, uh… I guess you could say that.”

  “How much is the light fixture? And how the hell did you get it hung by yourself?” If I’m not mistaken, he almost sounds upset.

  “It’s twelve-hundred dollars. The artist who built it let me know it’s one of a kind, and he won’t be reproducing it. And I hung it myself. Who else would help me?” I respond.

  “Christ, woman, are you trying to kill yourself?” he grunts, running his fingers through his hair. It’s shoulder-length, and most of the time, he has it tied back, but today it’s hanging loose around his shoulders. His locks are a rich chocolate color laced with lighter shades of brown throughout.

  “What? No, not me. Hudson, I do this all the time. It’s okay,” I calmly state.

  “Next time, call me.”

  “Well, Hudson, it’s not like I have your phone number, and I wasn’t even sure if we were friends up until today.” I place my hand on my hip, trying to figure him out.

  “Oh, we’re friends, all right, Jules, even with your love of eighties music,” Hudson says with a grin.

  “Hmph, we’ll see about that.” I walk away, hell-bent on grabbing the ladder, just in case he purchases it.

  3

  Hudson

  Beau stayed back with me when Jules marched off, probably because I bent down to pet him. Otherwise, I know he’d be with her. “She’s a firecracker, isn’t she, boy?” I mumble out to the dog.

  “I heard that, Hudson Walker,” Jules says. I shake my head, stand up from petting Beau, and then look at the light again. She’s selling it for way less than she should. In a bigger city, this fixture would sell for an easy five thousand dollars. I’m seriously going to have to talk to her, especially if she’s making online sales, too.

  Jules is back a few minutes later, holding a green step ladder in her hands. It looks ancient and like it’ll fall apart at any time.

  “No fucking way,” I grouse.

  “What do you mean, no way? I’ll have this down in just a second.” She places the ladder on the floor and takes the first step up on the rickety thing. I grab her by her hips, pulling her back and off of the rungs. Her backside to my front has my raging cock, which was settled down, back up again. I’m sure she can feel it as much as I can feel the softness of her curves.

  “Hudson…” Her breathing is shallow as the softness of her body falls back into mine, and I know I won’t be waiting to make my move when it comes to Jules. At first, I wanted to ease her into the idea of us. Now, all bets are off. The way she trusts me when I hold her tells me everything I needed to know.

  “I’ll take the light down, but first, I’m going back to Holt’s and buying you a real ladder. What would happen if yours broke and you fell? The only one that would have known you were hurt would be Beau. I can’t have something happening to you, not now and not ever.” I pull her the rest of the way off of the step stool, and she spins around, her baby blue eyes seeking mine.

  “Well, this is a rather interesting turn of events,” Jules states.

  “Lock up and grab Beau. We’ll go to Holt’s then grab some lunch at McKenzie’s Diner. I’m sure Charlotte won’t mind if you bring him in the dog carrier thing you have,” I tell her, trying to hold in my laughter. She carries her dog around like it’s a child. That thought alone has me thinking about how amazing of a mother she’ll be.

  “Fine, but I’m buying the ladder.” Jules turns around in a huff, her arms hanging down beside her body, but I see how her palms are clenched together as she sets off. This time, Beau struts right alongside her toward her office.

  4

  Jules

  I was not expecting this. Sure, Hudson would come into my store when he made his usual trips, but as far as I knew, he didn’t know anyone else in town. He was always quiet and reserved, so this is a huge change in events. I’m not even sure how to feel about him wanting me to call him, go to Holt’s, and eat at McKenzie’s.

  The three of us set out for the new ladder, a ladder I don’t want or really need. Sure, my step stool is old; it’s vintage, kind of like the rest of the items in my store.

  We walked to the hardware store, me holding Beau in the chest carrier I have for him with Hudson walking beside me. Every now and then, his hand would brush mine. When he opened the door after we left Holt’s, his hand was placed on my lower back. It seems like, every chance he gets, Hudson is touching me in one way or the other.

  “You want a booth or a table?” Hudson asks as we walk into the dinner. Everyone stops eating and looks toward us. At first, I think it’s because of Beau, though the longer I look, the more I see it’s Hudson they’re staring at.

  “A booth is fine,” I tell him, secretly thinking the faster we sit down, maybe the less the town will gawk.

  “Tough crowd today, huh?” Hudson asks. It makes me chuckle, then the rest of the diner goes back to what they’re doing.

  “Not to be rude, but, Hudson, you are kind of known as a recluse that barely speaks.” I sit down, adjusting Beau.

  He smiles, watching me the whole time. Beau grunts as I situate us, “Oh, hush. You’re just fine, grumpapotmus,” I coo.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Beau is your favorite person.” He hands me the menu that they have at the end, stuck in between the napkins and condiments.

  “Didn’t you know already? He absolutely is. Beau doesn’t argue, talk back, or disagree with me.” I shrug my shoulders while looking at the menu.

  “Hey, Jules, Hudson. What can I get you to drink?” Charlotte asks us.

  “I’ll have a sweet tea, please,” I tell her.

  “Coke for me, please,” Hudson says.

  “Do you need anything for Beau?” she says while jotting down our drink orders.

  “Nope, he’s good. He’ll probably sleep the whole time.” Charlotte nods and turns to put our drink order in.

  “What are you doing for the rest of the day?” Hudson asks when it’s just the two of us.

  “Oh, you know, work in my store, close the store around five, head home, figure out dinner. What about you?”

  “I have time on my hands. I’ll help you around the store, especially if it includes you putting up another damn light by yourself.” His tone is gruff.

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  Charlotte comes back, and we place our lunch order. Hudson asks for an open-faced roast beef sandwich with mashed potatoes and salad. I order a BLT and French fries. Clearly, bacon is life. We just can’t tell Ophelia that; her poor pet potbelly pig, Bogo, would be crushed forever. I need to call her and see how she’s doing.

  When our food comes, both of us dig in. I feed Beau a French fry here and there, but for the most part, Hudson and I talk about the projects he’s doing to his house and my plans for Jules’ Junk and getting it more of an online base. It’s something Hudson wants to help me with, and I’m all ears.

  “You ready to go? I know you don’t like to let the shop stay closed for long. I’ll go grab the ladder we bought and bring it to you,” Hudson offers.

  “Yep, thank you for lunch and picking up the ladder.” When we stand, his hand goes to the small of my back.

  “No problem, I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.” He touches the tips of my fingers.

  “See you soon.” He takes a right to head to the hardware store, and I take a left to head back to my shop.

  5

  Hudson

  I helped Jules around the store before grabbing the light fixture I bought from her. It was just what I was looking for to go above the dining room table I’m working on. Being able to help Jules financially, though, that was the icing on the cake. I’ve seen how little foot traffic she gets in her shop. I’m hoping to change that and soon.

  We exchanged phone nu
mbers; that way, if she needs help, she won’t fucking kill herself doing it.

  I fist my hair in my hands, slightly pulling on it before wrapping it in a leather band to get it out of my face, then tug my shirt off, and lug all the wood out of my truck and into the shop.

  Even in the cool Colorado air, it’s still enough to make you sweat your ass off. I throw my phone down on the workbench, not wanting to miss a call or text from Jules, just in case she does use my number.

  I get lost in planing the wood, so I can start on some of the cuts, measurements, and really get into the swing of things.

  It’s well after dark when I finish. I’m a dusty and sweaty mess. I walk into the mudroom off the house, stopping to strip off my boots, socks, and jeans, then make my way up to the shower. Not once do I let my phone slip out of my sight while doing all this. Jules hasn’t texted or called yet. I guess it’s up to me to make that first step. I pull up her name while walking into the master bathroom, then rethink what I’m about to do. Instead, I throw my phone on the bathroom counter and turn on the shower. This fucking house is a huge sprawling place. I don’t need something this big, but the thought of living in town with too many eyes had me making my way up the mountain and to what locals call the mansion on the mountain.