Mountain Man Next Door

by Ava Grace

  Besides, I wanted to see how well Mason and I got along without the added complication of a physical relationship muddying the waters. He seemed fine with that and by the time I started back to work, I felt as if we both knew each other a lot better.

  I’d told him all about growing up in the foster care system and he told me what his childhood had been like here in Creede. He was an only child and had lost his parents several years ago so, to all intents and purposes, he was as alone in the world as I was. That made us relate to each other a little better.

  Mason told me that he and Coop had started several businesses together when they were younger, but that The Shack was the last one they’d owned together. Mason had made a decent bit of money from the sale and he got more in an inheritance when his parents died. He said that for years, because he had money coming in, he hadn’t wanted to go out and work for a living, but recently he’d changed his mind about that. He felt that he was ready to do something with his life now, he just needed to figure out what it was.

  Mason had been spending his days working not only in his yard but in mine. I learned that he liked to be busy and seemed to be at his happiest when he had a job to do, even if it was something as mundane as mowing the lawn. While he worked, I had kept myself busy doing my handicrafts on the back porch, with Duke never far from my side.

  It worked well or rather, we worked well.

  Together.

  My first shift at The Shack was an afternoon shift and, as afternoons went, it had been off the charts busy. I made an absolute killing in tips—more even than I usually made on a Saturday night. We didn’t have a lot of tourists in, but it felt as if nearly every person who lived in town chose that day to grab a burger.

  It was crazy.

  The weird thing was, everyone seemed to know about what had happened with Brandon and were quick to ask me about it. Other people were only interested in knowing the answer to one question—were Mason and I a couple?

  I was so surprised by all the candid questions that the same answers rolled off my tongue as if I’d rehearsed them.

  “No, it wasn’t the first time my ex had tried to kill me. It all happened so fast. I’d rather not talk about it, sorry. Uh, Mason and I are taking it slow. No, we’re not getting married.”

  That last one had me tongue tied and spluttering on more than one occasion. Where was everybody getting their information from? Mason and I had slept together one time, and as far as I was aware, we were the only ones to know about it, but people acted as if we’d been together for years.

  My answers didn’t seem to quell anyone’s curiosity, either, but Coop was quick to step in when someone refused to let the subject of my ex drop and I was grateful for his support. I wasn’t used to talking so openly about my life so most of the time, I was at a loss for words.

  Coop hadn’t been the only visitor to turn up at my door that first morning after everything had happened. Andrea had been hot on his heels, wanting to know if I was okay and an hour later, Faith and Violet had shown up, too. Andrea had heard about what happened from her brother then she’d called Faith who’d called Violet.

  I had to admit, it felt good to know that people cared enough about me to seek me out and check if I was okay. Now that I came to think about it, Andrea, Violet, and Faith had seen Mason half naked pottering around my kitchen. We hadn’t had a moment alone together so I hadn’t been able to tell them exactly what had happened between us, but they would have to have been blind not to see that something was going on.

  Coop also knew or at least had a pretty good idea that Mason and I had slept together and of course, the sheriff, Ethan, also thought that Mason and I were a couple so any number of people could have told someone who’d told someone else. That’s how it went in small towns like these, or so I imagined. Actually, that was pretty much how it went everywhere, wasn’t it?

  I was fairly confident that Mason wouldn’t have said anything because he didn’t seem the type to gossip or brag and he barely spoke to anyone anyway.

  Andrea on the other hand…

  Andrea had her finger on the pulse of what was going on in town so she would be my number one suspect, not that it mattered, really. And don’t get me wrong, even if she had said something to someone, I don’t think that she would have done it maliciously. She just liked a good old gossip.

  In fact, by the end of my shift, I decided that it was a good thing that everyone now knew all my deep, dark secrets. It made a nice change to not have to hide things from people—it was nice also not to have to live in constant fear that I might slip up or say too much. I had always been terrified that someone I spoke to might know Brandon, but I didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

  It was freeing.

  By the time my shift ended, I was exhausted.

  All I wanted to do was get home and take a long, relaxing soak in the tub. So when my key turned in the new lock that Mason had installed and I pushed open the front door, the sight of him standing in my kitchen, bent over and peering at something in the oven, was a little surprising, to say the least.

  Duke came ambling up to me to say hello and I bent down to scratch him behind the ears on instinct. He was recovering well from his injuries. Each day he looked a little brighter and was a touch faster on his feet.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as I stood upright again.

  Mason turned from what he was doing and a warm smile spread across his face. I ignored the things it did to my stomach and crossed my arms, waiting for his reply.

  “I’m cooking you dinner,” he said in a matter of fact tone.

  I stared at him, more than a little confused.

  “You’re cooking me dinner.”

  He raised a brow. “Yeah.”

  I frowned. “How did you get in?”

  He lifted his right shoulder in a pale imitation of a shrug. “I have a key.”

  He had a key.

  “Since when?”

  Another shrug. “Always. Henry asked me to look out for the place seeing as it’s been empty for so long.”

  “But you just fixed the locks and I don’t remember giving you a new key unless you had an extra one made. Did you?”

  “No, I gave you the only keys,” he said, frowning.

  I blinked. “So I repeat. How did you get in.”

  A slow, lazy grin spread across his lips. “I have a backdoor key.”

  I sighed. “So you just thought you’d let yourself in and cook me dinner, huh?”

  “Yep,” he said with a grin that pretty much melted my panties off.

  “I thought you might be grateful to not have to cook when you came home. I figured you’d be tired…and hungry.”

  I couldn’t decide if the gesture was the creepiest thing ever or the most romantic. I decided to rank it somewhere in between.

  “Is that okay?” Mason asked.

  Was it?

  I opened my mouth to reply, but when the tantalizing aroma of garlic wafted by me and my stomach grumbled, I mentally moved the gesture further up the scale to romantic.

  I decided to take the fifth.

  “What are you cooking?”

  “Just some lasagna and salad, oh and some garlic bread.”

  I debated the merits of dropping to my knees at his feet and worshiping the ground he walked on. Instead, I grinned, crossed to the kitchen and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

  “It smell’s great,” I informed him. “Thank you. I’m going to grab a quick shower then I’ll be right out.”

  I made my way into my bathroom and got super busy undressing and showering before I could panic about the fact that a tall, handsome, muscular, sweet as candy mountain man was in my kitchen cooking me dinner.

  I also tried not to panic about the fact that I’d just kissed him on the cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world, which, I suppose to most people it was. But perhaps it wasn’t such a natural thing to do when you’d known that person for just a few weeks and had only slept w
ith them one time.

  After we’d finished dinner—which was so delicious I decided that from then on, Mason was doing all the cooking, I told him all about my day. His eyes widened when I mentioned the questions that everyone had asked me, but he didn’t seem surprised by them.

  “This is a small town, Lib, and the one thing that people around here love to do more than anything else is gossip. The things that happened to you? That’s not something that folks around here see every day. It’s something they only see on the news so it’s natural they’d be curious about it and about you.”

  “I get that,” I said. “But it’s one thing to be curious, it’s another entirely to ask someone openly about their personal business, isn’t it?”

  “Sure, but I’ll repeat. Small town. Mostly everyone around here grew up together. There are dozens of people around here that I went to school so I feel as if I know them well. And because people know each other so well, they feel like they have vested interest in what happens to you. It’s not a bad thing, Lib.

  “In a way, it’s a compliment. The fact that people feel comfortable enough around you to ask you those kinds of questions outright, means that they accept you as one of their own. You’re a part of this town now and whether you like it or not, you’re a part of peoples’ lives too. Isn’t that a good thing?

  I heaved a sigh. “Of course it is. I always wanted to be part of a community. And it feels good, it does. I guess I just wasn’t prepared for the complete lack of privacy that came with it.”

  Mason chuckled. “You’ll get used to it.”

  I snorted. “Anyway, it wasn’t just me they were asking about.”

  The grin slipped from his face then he scrubbed a hand over his beard.

  “Oh!” I exclaimed, pointing at him. “I see how this is. It’s perfectly fine when it’s me that people are talking about, but it’s a different story when it’s you. But Mason, it means people accept you,” I mimicked.

  He snorted. “Wiseass. I’m used to being the talk of the town so it’s nothing new for me. I just thought people had moved on to more interesting topics. I guess I was lucky to have gotten a few years reprieve.”

  “You’re an interesting topic to me,” I said with a grin.

  He snorted. “That right?” His face grew serious then and he leaned across the table placing a big meaty hand over mine. “You don’t regret moving here, do you?”

  There was a vulnerability in his expression that I hadn’t seen him display before and I felt that the question held more weight than it appeared to on the surface.

  “No,” I said firmly, resolutely. “Not at all. Growing up in foster homes meant that I never felt truly settled. I was almost afraid to relax and let my guard down because I knew that at any moment I would have to leave and start all over again with a new family.

  “When you’re used to living like that, you don’t know how precious it is to feel at ease somewhere, to believe, deep down in your soul that this could be it, this could be the place that you’re finally able to call home.”

  The emotion that swirled in his eyes caught my breath and I worried that I’d over shared, but then Mason squeezed my hand reassuringly.

  “I want you to be at home here,” he said. “Nothing would make me happier.”

  There was a light wrap on the front door that saved me from saying something that had the potential to seriously make me squirm. I picked the paper napkin from my lap then wiped the corners of my mouth before getting up to answer it. Duke let out a half-hearted bark then closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

  When I pulled open the door, Violet grinned back at me.

  “Hi,” she greeted. “Sorry for just showing up like this.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t be silly, you’re welcome here anytime. Please, come in.”

  Her grin got wider as she walked into the cabin, but her steps faltered when she saw Mason seated at the table.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt your meal. I can come back—“

  “There’s no need,” I said. “We’ve finished eating. Come and sit down. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Oh no, that’s okay. I can’t stay. I just came by to tell you that I told my cousin about the cushions you made and she’s really interested in seeing them. She asked me to set up a meeting.

  “She makes a pretty penny selling all those soft furnishings to tourists in the summer months and I’m pretty sure that when she sees yours, she’ll go nuts for them and place an order.

  “Her shop is right next to the coffee shop in town. It’s called Finer Things. She said to call in next time you’re in town and you can have a chat with her about what you’d be able to produce.”

  She leaned in conspiratorially and added, “Be sure to take those with you.” She pointed to the throw pillows on the couch. “She won’t be able to resist them.”

  I had no clue what to say.

  As I stared at her dumbly, my eyes began to fill with tears and the smile on her face faltered.

  “Oh no.” She reached out and placed her hand on my shoulder. “Have I done the wrong thing? I’m sorry. Me and my big mouth. I shouldn’t have said anything before speaking to you firs—“

  “You don’t understand,” I choked out. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I always hoped that I could make a living doing something I loved one day, but I thought it was just a pipe dream. You barely even know me. Why would you go out of your way to help me?”

  When the smile returned to her face it was full of warmth. “Because that’s what we do around here.”

  I was beginning to see that.

  When I looked over at Mason, he winked at me.

  Besides,” she said with a dismissive wave. “It wasn’t any trouble.”

  I’d never been a hugger, but I couldn’t stop myself. I pulled her into my chest as a tear leaked out of my eye.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll let you get back to it. Dinner at The Shack next Sunday, okay?”

  “Definitely,” I agreed.

  After she’d left, I turned to Mason, my heart singing with delight. “Can you believe it?”

  Mason came to me and wrapped me in a bear hug before placing a kiss on my forehead. “You deserve it. I might get you away from Coop yet.”

  When I narrowed my eyes at him, he let out a low raspy laugh. “Kidding. Well, mostly.”

  “You do know that you have absolutely nothing to worry about on that score right?”

  Mason averted his eyes and let out a long sigh.

  “Mason?”

  “Coop can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be. When he sets his sights on something or someone…”

  I took his face in my hands, made him meet my gaze and repeated, “You have nothing to worry about. I’m not attracted to Coop and even if I was, I don’t cheat.”

  His eyes searched mine right before he pulled me to him and crushed our lips together. His tongue snaked out and right at the moment when my own came out to play, Mason put his arms around my waist and lifted me off the floor. I had no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist and hold on tight.

  When I pressed up against him and felt his hardness through our clothes, a groan slipped out of my mouth and into his.

  Through deep, drugging kisses, Mason carried me into my bedroom then placed me down on the bed. He pulled away from my mouth only long enough to kiss his way down my neck then he lifted my top over my head and undid my bra before taking one of my nipples into his mouth and sucking on it.

  I cried out, my body rising up to meet his mouth. “Mason,” I begged.

  His hands were everywhere—sliding up and down my sides and cupping my breasts before nimble fingers tore at the button of my jeans then pulled them down my legs. He hissed when he realized I wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  It took only a second for Mason to push my thighs apart then his mouth was on me, strong and sure, his tongue pushi
ng into my folds and entering me.

  “Oh!” I reached down and held his head in place, going out of my mind with lust as he pressed his tongue against my clit then flicked it.

  It was too much.

  My back arched almost violently and I came, shouting out his name over and over again. As the orgasm rolled over me in wave after wave of euphoria, Mason reared up over my body then pushed his cock into me in one long, forceful shove.

  My orgasm sky-rocketed and he fucked me through it with hard, punishing thrusts. Just when I thought I might pass out from the pleasure, Mason roared above me then came, his fingers biting into my hips as he emptied himself inside me.

  It was dirty and raw and quick, but above all, it was glorious.

  Chapter Twenty

  Over the next couple of weeks, Mason and I couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We had sex as often as possible, at every given opportunity and each time it got better and better. I wouldn’t have even thought that was possible, but there it was.

  We were on fire.

  The trouble was, we spent so much time either in my place or in his place hanging out together that I was in danger of becoming a hermit in much the same way as Mason had in recent years.

  Don’t get me wrong, I understood that there had been a good reason why he had distanced himself from people, but shouldn’t there come a time when he said enough was enough?

  Mason’s wife had been killed nearly three years ago. I would never have been as heartless as to say it was time for him to forget her because I would never expect him to do that, but it was certainly time for him to move on, otherwise what future did we have together? If that was where we were truly headed—towards a common shared goal then that meant Mason needed to begin living in the here and now rather than in the past.

  He needed to embrace life once again.

  He was either with me all in, or he wasn’t.

  And I really wanted him to be with me.

  One night when we were talking, I suggested that it was time he got out into the world again so that he could see what he’d been missing and I expected him to grumble and argue his case. In my mind, the worst case scenario had been him telling me to mind my own damn business, but he didn’t.