Mountain Man Next Door

by Ava Grace

  I don’t know why the sight of her made me sad, but it did. I should have known he’d have a beautiful girlfriend lurking somewhere. Perhaps that was why he’d been so cold to me earlier. He must have been waiting for her to arrive. Was she the jealous type? Was that why he’d been so quick to dismiss me?

  I didn’t wait for him to open the door.

  I wasn’t in the mood to see their warm embrace or worse, to witness a passionate kiss hello. Instead, I went to my car and began the onerous task of unloading my possessions and carrying them into my new home.

  I’d put fresh sheets on the bed, tossed a few throw pillows onto the couch and put out clean towels in the bathroom when there was a loud knock on the front door. I froze halfway across the room to the open plan kitchen carrying a box of pans and utensils.

  My cheerful, positive mood vanished in an instant.

  Goosebumps rose on my arms and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. The drive from Denver to Creede had taken me over five hours. I’d wanted to be far enough away that I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. I didn’t have friends in Creede and the only person who knew that I’d rented the cabin was Dotty, an elderly neighbor from my condominium complex in Denver. She wasn’t likely to have followed me to town.

  So who was at the door?

  Common sense told me to put down the box I was holding and grab something I could use as a weapon to defend myself, but my feet remained frozen to the floor. I’d foolishly imagined this move to be akin to a magic potion. I’d thought that as soon as I stepped through the door, the new life and the new me would instantly begin.

  But I was as terrified as ever.

  I could have hit myself upside the head.

  Of course I was terrified. Despite how much I’d wanted a fresh start, there was no magic potion that could cure me in the blink of an eye. I was damaged on the outside and broken on the inside. Brandon had seen to that. He’d worn me down and picked away at my spirit piece by piece until I was all but dead inside. All that remained was a shell of the person I used to be. But even though I hated him for what he’d done to me, I hated myself more for allowing him to do it. Because ultimately, we were all responsible for how we let people treat us, weren’t we? And moreover, we were responsible for how we let our experiences shape us.

  I knew all that.

  But I was still afraid.

  “Hello!” A female voice shouted cheerfully. “It’s Andrea Chase, from the realtor’s office.”

  The breath I’d been holding was released in a long exhale.

  I wasn’t capable of speech or even coherent thought. All I could do was breathe in and out and thank the lord it wasn’t him.

  Relief, unlike anything I’d experienced coursed through me.

  Andrea was a letting agent who worked at the only real estate agency in town. She was the person who had rented me the cabin. I’d spoken to her a couple of times on the phone but had yet to meet her in person.

  As the fear that had paralyzed me subsided, I put the box down on the kitchen counter then walked to the front door. I pulled in a deep, calming breath, forced a smile onto my lips then opened the door to greet my visitor.

  She looked exactly the way I’d imagined she would—a perky, petite blonde woman with a thousand watt smile.

  “Hi!” Her smile grew wider still as she handed me a bottle of wine. “This is for you. I thought I’d come up here to personally welcome you to the neighborhood.”

  Oh.

  Was that normal?

  I’d never had a welcome like that when I’d moved into any of the condos I’d rented in Denver, but perhaps it was usual in small towns like Creede. It was the sort of greeting I’d hoped for—even if my experience with the gruff mountain man next door had jaded me somewhat.

  “Wow, thanks, this is great.” I neglected to mention the fact that I wasn’t much of a wine drinker. The stuff went straight to my head. “It’s good to finally meet you in person. Do you want to come in?”

  She shot a quick glance to her left then shook her head. “It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we sit out here on the porch?”

  I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  It would do me good to get some air.

  I nodded to the bottle. “Can I get you a glass? Or would you like something else? I haven’t had a chance to get to a grocery store yet so there isn’t much here, but I’m sure I could rustle up a cup of black coffee.”

  She shook her head. “I’m good thanks.”

  I left the bottle just inside the door then sat down on one of the two rocking chairs that were situated on the porch. “Thanks for the warm welcome. I don’t have any friends in town so it’s nice to know at least one person.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get plenty of visitors,” she said, cutting another glance to her left. “But if you don’t know anyone in town, what made you decide to move here?”

  I’d anticipated this question or some form of it, but I was no less prepared to answer. “Well, I um, I guess I wanted a slower pace of life,” I mumbled. “I like the peace and quiet.”

  She snorted. “You’ll get plenty of that here and then some.”

  My next question was cut off by the sound of Mason’s dog running up the steps to my porch. He barked a welcome, jumping up and down excitedly before plonking his butt down on my feet.

  I couldn’t resist chuckling at his antics.

  “Hey Duke,” I greeted.

  At least he was pleased to see me, even if his owner hadn’t been.

  “Is that Mason’s dog?” Andrea asked.

  I nodded, scratching Duke behind one of his ears. “Yeah. Do you think I should tell Mason he’s here?”

  She shook her head. “Nah, I think he has free reign on this mountain and as there aren’t any fences between this property and Mason’s, you’ll probably see him here a lot.”

  I welcomed the news. I’d always wanted a dog, but the condos I’d lived in Denver hadn’t allowed pets. Still, I had to wonder how Mason would take the news that his dog was hanging out with me.

  “I’m glad you came by,” I said hesitantly, suddenly remembering what I’d been meaning to say. “I was going to call the agency tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh?”

  I nodded. “When I arrived, I didn’t recognize the cabin. It looks somewhat…different to how it’s portrayed by the photos on your website.”

  Andrea had the good grace to wince before glancing at the front of the property. “I must admit, it looks worse than I remember. It does seem a little…tired.”

  That was the understatement of the darn century.

  “But I’m sure it’s just cosmetic,” she added quickly. “It’s nothing that a few new timbers and a lick of paint won’t cure. I’ll tell you what I’ll contact Harry to okay the work, but he’s pretty easygoing.

  “I’m sure I’ll be able to get someone out here within the next couple of days to sort it out for you. How would that be?”

  “That would be great. I’d appreciate it.”

  She nodded then took another glance to her left. This time, I followed her line of sight and saw Mason out working in his yard.

  “Do you know him?” I asked.

  A deep pink hue rose in her cheeks. “Not very well. He’s a few years older than me so he’d already left school when I started, but Creede is a small town so essentially everyone knows everyone else.”

  She cut another glance in his direction then looked away quickly as if she was afraid to get caught watching him.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if Mason had always been so grumpy, but I closed my mouth at the last moment because even in my head that sounded too rude to voice. Instead, I asked, “Do you know his girlfriend, too?”

  Her head jerked up so quickly I’m surprised she didn’t get whiplash. She frowned. “What girlfriend?”

  “Oh, I don’t know her. I just saw someone bring him lunch earlier so I assumed it had to have been his girlfriend. She was a tall, blonde woman. Slim, bea
utiful. Drives a silver SUV.”

  “Oh!” Understanding dawned in her eyes. “You mean Jessica, Jessica Danvers. She’s not Mason’s girlfriend, though everyone knows she wants to be.” Andrea’s pixie-like face broke out into a mischievous grin. “Mason won’t give her the time of day.”

  Interesting.

  So it wasn’t only me that he didn’t have time for, it was beautiful blondes with killer bodies too. The information made me feel marginally better about my exchange with Mason earlier.

  At least he hadn’t singled me out.

  He was rude to everyone.

  It would seem that Jessica wasn’t the only one who wanted something from Mason considering the fact that Andrea hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off him since she’d arrived. Part of me wondered if the real reason for her visit wasn’t to welcome me to the neighborhood but to catch a glimpse of one very tall and very sexy mountain man.

  “What are your plans while you’re in town?” Andrea asked. “Are you looking for work?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, and I’ll be honest. I’m not fussy about what I do, either.”

  She pursed her lips. “You know, I think Coop is looking to hire. It’s only waiting tables and tending bar occasionally, but it’s…”

  “It’s perfect,” I cut in. “Who’s Coop?”

  “Cooper Brown. He owns the Snack Shack Bar and Grill in town. It’s one of only three bars in fact. Be prepared, though, it’s nothing fancy. It’s popular with locals and a few bikers—the odd tourist in summer. The food they serve is pretty decent and Coop is a good guy. You wouldn’t go far wrong working for him.

  “Great!” I said, feeling immeasurably more upbeat about my job prospects. “Do you think he’ll be there tonight?”

  “I’m sure he will. The place opens at midday, but Coop is there most nights.”

  “Perfect. Cross your fingers for me.”

  Andrea got to her feet. “Well, I’d better be going, but it was good to meet you.”

  I nodded and stood, too. “You too. And thanks for the tip.”

  Duke didn’t look impressed that I was disturbing him. He grunted out a moan before getting up, turning around in a circle then lying down again and resting his head on his front paws.

  “Good luck,” Andrea said over her shoulder as she made her way down the steps of the porch. She turned around before she got to her car. “A couple of girlfriends and I are going out to dinner on Sunday night. We do it twice a month. I could introduce you if you’d care to join us.”

  I beamed at her. “Thanks. That would be great!”

  She opened the car door then got in. “I’ll give you a call!”

  I was grinning from ear to ear as I watched her pull out of the driveway. I’d been in Creede for only a couple of hours and it seemed that I’d already made a new friend and might possibly be able to bag myself a new job, too.

  Of course, it wasn’t my life’s ambition to tend bar, but having gone hungry on too many occasions to count, I wasn’t too proud to do any job that put food on my table and money in my pocket. Now all I had to do was convince this Cooper Brown person to hire me and I’d be all set.

  As I looked down the mountain at Mason still out working in his yard, Duke let out a soft snore at my feet.

  Chapter Four

  Andrea had been right. The bar wasn’t up to much. I hadn’t actually been inside it yet and the experience with the cabin should have taught me not to judge a book by its cover. However, as I sat in my car, staring at the grey windowless wall with the little sign above the door proclaiming it to be the Snack Shack Bar and Grill, it was difficult to drum up any enthusiasm to go inside.

  The line of motorcycles parked in the lot beside my car didn’t make the bar any more inviting, either.

  Still, I needed the job.

  I shouldn’t care what the bar looked like or who frequented it. I didn’t expect there to be too many positions available in a town as small as Creede so I had to take what I could get—if I could get it.

  With a resigned sigh, I got out of my car then headed for the door. I hesitated on the threshold, taking a moment to find my courage before squaring my shoulders and walking inside. It was the second time in as many days that I’d been surprised by the interior of a building.

  The space was deceiving—much larger on the inside than it appeared from out in the parking lot. Plus, there was a wall of windows along one side of the room which I hadn’t been able to see from out front. They would undoubtedly bathe the room in light during the day, making it more inviting.

  The place wasn’t at all what I’d expected and I liked it. It felt warm and welcoming. It seemed friendly—the type of place I’d be comfortable working in. In fact, it wasn’t too far removed from places I’d worked in before.

  A long wooden bar ran the entire length of the back wall with stools lined up in front of it. A couple of old-timers propped up one end, engaged in an animated conversation. Even from my position at the door, I could hear their argument over who had caught the biggest trout on their fishing trip.

  The leather-clad owners of the motorcycles out front were huddled around a table to the right of the large room. The jukebox behind them blasted out a rock song that was unfamiliar to me but seemed fitting for the environment. Neon signs on the walls advertised American brand beers and a couple of designer beers I hadn’t heard of.

  There was a dartboard on the wall on the far left of the room and a pool near it with a couple of men stood around the table in the middle of a game. Flat screen televisions adorned the walls, and tables and chairs were dotted around the room in a haphazard fashion. A few stood empty, but most were filled with couples enjoying dinner as they talked about their day.

  A few of the diners were still in hiking gear which reminded me that Creede was a tourist trap during the summer months. That meant that locals were used to strangers passing through the town.

  My presence there wouldn’t be a blip on anyone’s radar.

  No one had looked up when I’d entered or watched me hovering by the door as I took everything in and soaked up the atmosphere. Neither did anyone pay me the slightest bit of attention as I crossed the room and headed for the bar. That was good. I didn’t want to be conspicuous. I’d chosen a small, mountain town that was hours away from where I grew up for a reason—my anonymity was of the utmost importance to me.

  The bartender, a broad-shouldered man of around forty, finished what he was doing then stood in front of me, wiping his hands on a dishrag. The glow from the overhead strip light made his shaved head shine like a new penny.

  He shot me a warm smile. “Hey. What can I get you?”

  I cleared my throat. “Hi, um, I’m actually looking for Coop. Is he around?”

  The bartender’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, but his smile never faltered.

  “He sure is.”

  I was just about to ask if I could speak to him when he looked over my shoulder and shouted, “Coop! You’re wanted!”

  When I turned to see who he was addressing, I realized that Coop was one of the bikers seated together at the table behind me. None of them replied, but five sets of eyes focused on me—some of them a little more intensely than I would have liked. Despite wanting the ground to open up and swallow me, I managed to get up off my stool and put one foot in front of the other until I reached their table. I fixed a smile on face and made sure to meet each gaze in turn.

  “Hi. Um, Coop?” I asked, looking from face to face.

  “You found him.”

  I turned to the man who’d answered and nodded in acknowledgment. His smile was lazy and confident and he exuded charm. His dark hair was cut short and a goatee covered the bottom half of a rugged face. There was an air of power and authority about him—if I hadn’t known that he owned the bar, I likely would have picked him out as the owner anyway. He seemed comfortable there like he belonged.

  “What can I do for you pretty lady,” he drawled, gaze roving up and down my body.


  It wasn’t the first time I’d been checked out, but it was undoubtedly the first time that anyone had done it so deliberately and openly.

  I cleared my throat. “Um, my name is Libby,” I introduced. “I need a job and I heard you might be hiring.”

  He looked me over from head to toe again, this time with an assessing stare and I wondered what his first impression of me might be. I tried to see myself through his eyes. I was five-six in height, slim but curvy with long dark hair that had a slight wave to it and hung loosely over my shoulders. I was dressed casually in jeans and the plain white tee-shirt I had on was fitted, but not overly tight.

  I used to wear my clothes a lot tighter. I was always in short skirts and low-cut tops that showed off my figure, but I’d stopped dressing that way since the night that Brandon had attacked me, leaving my chest permanently disfigured. And I didn’t want to think about all the mental scars I’d been left with. Now, I covered up a little more. The only makeup I wore was a touch of black mascara and some colorless lip gloss.

  What would Coop think of me?

  I tried to keep the smile on my face, but the longer he stared at me, the more I felt it slip. Okay, so I wasn’t a perky, petite blonde like Andrea. I wasn’t a tall, beautiful Amazonian like Jessica, but plenty of men had told me they thought I was attractive and I kept myself in shape. Always had.

  I thought I looked pretty darn good. All things considered.

  Sure, I’d lost some of my confidence since I got the scar on my chest, but I had to keep reminding myself that it wasn’t visible. Coop and his band of biker buddies couldn’t see that my body was damaged beneath my clothes.

  Yet I felt as if they could.

  I lowered my head, suddenly self-conscious.

  Maybe this had been a bad idea.

  There would be other jobs. Wouldn’t there?

  “Who told you there was a position going?” Coop asked at last.

  I met his gaze again. “Um, Andrea. From the realtors?”

  One of the men muttered a curse and Coop glared at him.

  I didn’t make out the whole of the man’s sentence, but I did catch three words. Annoying, meddling and sister.