Billionaire Mountain Man

by Claire Adams

  "He didn't do anything. I just said what I had to say, and he told me what he felt about that."

  "I'm sorry, Nat."

  "For what? I'm not losing anything," I said, shrugging. "He didn't feel the same way, so there was nothing to lose." The next time this happened, I’d use that advice, and hopefully it would work out better than it had this time. It was sound advice; that wasn’t the problem. Not everyone you wanted would want you back. I was just at that place after a breakup when you felt like you would rather be dead than think about whoever you lost anymore. Yeah, all that and Cameron and I hadn’t even been dating.

  "But you didn't want to hear that,'" she said, sitting down next to me. I just shrugged, not wanting to go into it all over again but knowing she wasn't going to give me the option to sulk in peace.

  "Of course I didn't," I said. "It's not like I was even really pursuing a relationship when we got involved. It was just... I know how this sounds, Kase; you don't have to tell me."

  "I wasn't going to say anything."

  "You were right about there being nothing at stake if he didn't feel the same way, but I could have sworn that there was something there and it wasn't one-sided. I felt it, Kase. I know that it probably hasn't been long enough, but I felt like I just knew. I felt like he would say yes, and I feel so stupid now."

  "Don't feel bad for communicating your feelings to him, Nat. And don't feel bad that it didn't work out. I know you do now, but if it didn't work out, it wasn't supposed to."

  "It was my fault."

  "It wasn't anyone's fault."

  "I lied to him, Kase; it was all my fault."

  "You made a mistake. It sucks that he couldn't get past that, but maybe that's better for the long term," she said. "You can't sit here and wallow in all the things that can’t happen anymore otherwise you'll die here before you start living again."

  "I just want to watch season four again and pretend like the last month of my life didn't happen."

  "You can't do that."

  "I was making progress before you showed up," I accused, starting the TV again.

  "Turn that off," she said, taking the remote from me and turning the television off. "Have you been outside today? Have you even moved from that spot since last night?" I crossed my arms. I had actually slept in my bed the night before, and I resented her thinking that.

  "Give me the remote."

  "No, you get upstairs and get dressed. We're leaving."

  "Leaving? And going where?"

  "The salon. Your hair looks like shit."

  "Thanks, I'll let my stylist know that she's bad at her job."

  She glared at me. "I'm not the one who shot you down, Nat. You get to be sad about it, but you don't get a free pass to be a bitch." I sunk back into the couch.

  "I know," I mumbled. "I just feel like... have you ever felt like you did something so bad, nothing can ever make up for it?"

  "Cameron Porter isn't the last man who you'll ever fall for, Nat."

  "That's the thing; I don't want to fall for anyone else. I wanted to see what happened with Cameron. I've never felt so close to anyone after such a short time." She sighed, letting me have that one. She didn't keep people around that long, so I was speaking a foreign language to her. The ocean was full of fish. If you stood in one place long enough, another person would come by; men were like buses, my mom used to say to me. I didn’t feel optimistic enough to consider my other options. Not when I still missed Cameron so fucking much.

  "Did you love him?" she asked. I just shrugged because I knew what the answer was and I didn't want to say it because it would just make everything feel worse. "Natalie, I'm sorry that it didn't work out, but you can't just sit with the heartbreak of it forever. You got rejected, and you know what? That was the worst thing he could have done, and he did it. That was the end. Now you can move on because he gave you a clean break. You can take advantage of that and move on to something better."

  "I'm not ready," I sulked.

  "That's why I'm here," she said. "Go get dressed. I can do your hair. You can get your nails done."

  "You don't have clients today?"

  "My next client isn't ‘til six. If you had seen any of my texts, you would know that I wanted to spend this afternoon together if you were free." I shifted in my seat, guilty.

  "I'm sorry."

  "Good. You can make up for it by going upstairs, getting dressed, and letting me do your hair."

  "It would be nice to have my nails done," I mused, and I liked being in Kasey's chair. It was always nice to see what she came up with.

  "Then hurry it up!" she said, hauling me up off the couch. I laughed, getting up and letting her herd me up the stairs. I was grateful for her friendship, even when she was getting in the way of me and Coach Taylor. She wasn't going to let me wallow, and I needed that. If she hadn't shown up, I would have lost more than just this one weekend to being a sloth and binge-watching marathons of canceled TV shows.

  We left when I had made myself presentable enough to be seen in public and went straight to her salon. I got a manicure first, then Kasey worked her magic on my hair. My hair was blonde, and in the years Kasey had been doing it, she had only ever played with the tones, never ever given me raven black locks or anything dark. I trusted her implicitly but was happy that she had never done anything too dramatic. Since it had gotten colder, she had toned down the summery gold tones she had put in when it had been warmer and cooled it down to a more natural tone.

  "Can you cut some off?" I asked as she rinsed my hair out in the bowl.

  "How much is some?" she asked suspiciously.

  "Just a trim off the ends, maybe graduate the layers a little more?"

  "Slow down; you didn't just have a breakup," she joked. No, I hadn't, but I was here so why not. It would be for me. I wanted something a little different. I sat in her chair as she trimmed my layers and blew my hair out. The bangs were too long now to still call them that. They framed my face while the rest of my hair tumbled over my shoulders and back in a fresh blowout.

  "I like your hair parted down the middle," Kasey said, fluffing it with her hands, admiring her handiwork.

  "What is it? Date tonight?" another stylist, a guy named Gerard, asked casually.

  "Nothing like that," I said self-consciously.

  "She doesn't need my help for that," Kasey said, laughing with her colleague. I smiled as they debated how well I was able to get dates and whether Kasey’s skills raised my rating on a ten-point scale. It was friendly, and I couldn't deny that it made me feel a little good. If not good then pretty, which was nice. I ran my hands through it, feeling pleased with myself. No, I hadn’t worked out or been in any way useful that day, but at least I had gotten a cute hairdo out of it. I savored it while I was still with Kasey because I had a feeling I wouldn't feel as good once I was alone again back at the house.

  At least if I was going to be miserable, I'd be cute doing it. Cameron's sale paperwork was at my office at work. Brett was getting it Monday morning since that was the soonest he had been able to schedule another meeting with the stockholders. It was also the meeting where the representatives from the company that wanted to buy Cameron's stake would be present too. Thinking about it had been part of the reason for my foul mood. I couldn’t be sentimental about the family legacy of Porter Holdings if Cameron himself wasn't, but I was.

  I felt almost like I had failed Grayson Porter on the one request he had made of me before he passed. I had failed at getting his son to where he wanted him to be. Whatever. I had done my job, and it wasn't my problem anymore. I'd go to work on Monday, and as soon as the sale went through, we'd see how many people were still standing by the end.

  Kasey had driven me, so I took a cab back home. It was like a cloud slowly covering me out of nowhere, the gross, dark sadness that had sapped me of all my energy all day coming back the closer I got to my place. I didn't want to start crying in the cab, so I stared studiously out the window, hoping to discourage my d
river from trying to speak with me. It ended up being a long, uncomfortable drive. I got out of the car in front of my house feeling like I wouldn’t even get to the bathroom to wash my makeup off before I face-planted on the couch and turned the TV back on. I walked up to my house, rifling in my purse for my keys.

  "Natalie?" I stopped short, looking up. I had completely missed him. Cameron stood up from where he had been sitting on my doorstep. It took a minute before I composed myself to walk past him, up to my door.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked. My back was to him. My hand was shaking as I tried to unlock my door.

  "Can I come in?"

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Cameron

  "I guess," she said, non-committedly, walking in. I followed her inside, looking around. She was silent as she took her boots and jacket off in the entryway, not looking at me. "Were you waiting long?"

  "No, not really." I had been waiting for about fifteen minutes. After I had knocked a few times and determined she actually wasn't home and hadn't just been ignoring me, I had tried to call her. That hadn't been successful, which made me wonder now seeing her why that was. I had had to get her number and address from Brett. Shitty, I knew, because in all the time we had been talking, I had never gotten her contacts, but this thing, our thing, wasn't like others I'd had in the past.

  "You didn't answer my question," she said. Her hair looked different, I noticed. She looked... not different; it was the situation that was different, not her. I had just seen her the day before, but it felt longer than that. A lot had changed since we had last talked. For me at least. I could only speak for myself.

  "I wanted to see you."

  "How did you know where I lived?" she asked, walking away from me through a doorway. Following her, we were in her living room. I didn't know why I had never thought about what her space would look like. I guess I had in the beginning, but she had surprised me by not turning out to be who I had thought she was. Her house wasn't big, but not really small either. The living room had a fluffy white carpet on the ground under a glass coffee table. The couches were cream, and the walls were a powdery light blue color. Pillows on the couches were blue, same as the walls, white and grey.

  "I asked Brett. I tried to call you."

  "Sorry," she said shortly. She was silent for a second looking me up and down. "Is this going to take long?"

  "What?"

  "I still don't know what you want."

  "Did you have plans tonight?"

  "No, but not that it matters now. You might as well sit or something," she said. No, I hadn't expected her to greet me at the door with hugs and kisses, but it was painfully obvious that she didn't want me there. Whatever, just leave once you talk to her. I sat as she walked out of the living room. "Do you want something to drink or anything?" she called. I stood. I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t wait around and lose my nerve to say what I had to say to her. I followed her out of the living room to the joint kitchen and dining room. She opened the fridge, looked inside, then closed it again.

  "No, I'm good," I said. She turned and faced me.

  "Then what do you want?"

  "I had to talk to you after what happened yesterday." She nodded and turned around, opening the fridge again.

  "I think we both got out everything that needed to be said," she said, speaking into the fridge.

  "Natalie," I said, going up to her. I put a hand on her shoulder and relaxed when she didn't recoil.

  "Am I wrong? Was there something else?" she asked. She turned slowly and looked up at me. "I'm pretty sure I heard you loud and clear yesterday. The sales meetings are going to start Monday. Was there anything else?"

  "I made a mistake telling you what I did yesterday, Natalie."

  "Mistake?" she asked, turning. "What part?"

  "Saying I didn't feel the same way you do about me." She scoffed, looking down.

  "And you want to say this to me now?" she asked, trying to move past me. "If I remember right, you said you didn't want anything to do with me."

  "I didn't say that," I said, holding her arm to stop her walking away from me.

  "I asked you whether you felt the same, and you said you didn’t. I didn't know there was more than one way to interpret that."

  "Natalie, please," I said as she shook my arm off and walked back through to the living room. I followed her. "I didn't mean what I said. I lied to you."

  "And you came all the way here just to tell me that?"

  "Natalie, fucking listen to me. I'm trying to talk to you." She stood in the living room with her back to me. I heard her sigh. She ran her hands through her hair and walked to a couch, sitting.

  "I felt like shit when we were together," she said. "I felt like a liar keeping what I had to say to you hidden while sleeping in your cabin every night. I felt like I didn't deserve it when we finally had sex, like I didn't deserve you no matter how much I wanted you."

  "All that stuff about you feeling weird about me being my father's son?" I asked, going over to her.

  "There was that too, but the guilt was still there. I hate myself for lying to you like that. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway, telling myself I was protecting you somehow. I was being selfish, and I'm sorry for doing that to you."

  "I overreacted when you told me the truth the other day," I said, sitting next to her.

  "No, you didn't."

  "I should have tried to understand the position you were in. It was awkward for you trying to be there for me and do what Brett wanted at the same time."

  "Awkward is one way to put it," she said.

  "I was angry when I said that I didn't feel the same way you did about me. I was hurt. I was embarrassed, and I knew that if I told you that I didn't want you, I wouldn't have to see you again."

  "I deserved that, I guess," she said. She was looking at the ground. I reached for her hand so she'd stop and look at me. I wanted her attention when I told her what I was about to say. It wasn't like it was this realization that had hit me out of nowhere after being separated from her. It had always been there. I had missed her when she had left. I wasn't just thinking about the next couple days and weeks with her; I had been thinking about moving back to Provo so we could be together. I wanted her in a way I thought would scare her away if I told her, but I had to.

  Back out in the mountains, I hadn't been sure what exactly it was going to take to get me back down. I had known that it was just temporary, but I didn't know what it would be in the end that made me leave, pushed me with the same amount of force that losing my parents had in the opposite direction. I knew now, and I was looking at her. It had taking losing my parents to learn what they wanted for me, and it had taken almost losing Natalie to realize how much I wanted her.

  "I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you." She was still looking down, but she squeezed my hand.

  "It's okay. I understand," she said quietly.

  "I lied when I said I didn't want you." She looked up at me. She looked like she wanted to say something but didn't know how or where to start.

  "Why would you do that?" she asked.

  "I was angry, and I don't know, I wanted to stay that way. I was hurt, and I didn't want to be the only one. It was easier than facing what I actually wanted, what I almost never had. That was selfish. I can't make excuses for it. I can only tell you why it happened and hope it's not too much."

  "Too much?" she asked.

  "I want to be with you, Natalie. I came here before going home because I need to know whether I'm too late."

  "You know what I did today?" she asked, lacing our fingers together. I frowned at the sudden subject change but asked her what. "My best friend, the hairstylist I told you about, did this for me," she said, running her other hand through her hair. I thought it looked different. "She said that she wanted to do it to cheer me up, but I think this was part of some plan she had to try set me up."

  "Are you seeing anyone?"

  "No," she said, "I had had this wild
fantasy that you and I could be a couple, but I don't know."

  "I've heard wilder," I said. "I want to be with you, Nat."

  "It's not too soon? I don't want to take advantage of you." Too soon? If I said no to her because of that, when the hell would I be ready? It didn't feel like too soon. It was sweet that she wanted to take care of me, but if she really wanted to be there for me, she'd say yes.

  "I don't want to wait," I said, kissing the back of her hand.

  "Are you sure?" she asked. I cupped her face and kissed her. No more questions. I was done asking why and what and where. I knew now. The answer was here with her, for us.

  She climbed up onto my lap, straddling me. A tiny moan escaped her lips as I kissed her neck and ran my fingers through her silky, soft hair. I ran my hands up her legs, cupping her ass, and trailing them under her clothes. I had missed every silky, smooth part of her. I had missed the way she sounded when I touched her just right, the way her lips felt on mine…and other places.

  “You didn’t have plans tonight, did you?”

  “No, why?” I asked her.

  "Come with me," she said, pulling away and getting up. She took my hand, and I let her lead me up the stairs. I didn't get a good look at the master bedroom because frankly, there were a couple things I was more interested in at the moment than a house tour. The only place that mattered right then and would matter for at least the next few hours was her bed.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Natalie

  I loved Cameron's tattoos. I loved his face, his hair, his body. I had always been attracted to him, known just how much he affected me, but in the past week, the reality of anything happening between us had all but disappeared. I ran my hands over his back and shoulders as he kissed me. He was really here. He had truly come back. He wanted me, and I wanted him too.

  It had taken some effort to get us both naked, but we had done it. We were on my bed, him on top of me between my spread thighs. I couldn't keep my hands off of him, from the long, solid muscles of his back, up to the soft brown locks of hair at the back of his head, down to his ass, just as taut and firm as the rest of him, every place I could reach. My skin tingled where his lips touched me, my neck, chest, nipples. I ran my fingers through his hair as he groaned, palming one of my tits. I gasped when I felt him use his teeth then soothed the sore skin with his tongue. His calm, detached nature didn't let this part of him show through. He was wild when he was aroused, devoured me while giving me every part of him.