Mountain Man

by Jules Barnard

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I wake to a nose nuzzling my ear, soft lips kissing my neck. Lewis’s heartbeat thrums against my back, a thick arm wrapped around my waist and urging me closer to his hard frame. I roll over and press my face to smooth skin, listening to the steady rhythm in his chest that seems to spike when my fingers glide over his lower stomach.

  He braces his weight on his arms and leans over me, one knee between my legs. His lips trail a path down my neck to the top of my breast. I should be comatose after the mudder yesterday and what we did in the shower, but naughty thoughts tumble one over the other—until I remember why we’re here.

  His hooded eyes skim my body. “Hey.” I tap his shoulder and he glances up. “We were supposed to talk yesterday. Are you trying to orgasm me into submission?”

  “Hmm.” His gaze narrows on my mouth as if he’s actually considering it.

  “Lewis”—I splay my hand on his chest, because it’s so close and teasing me with its hotness, and how can I not touch it?—“we have to talk.”

  “Okay.” He rubs my breast the way I’m rubbing his chest. I drop my hand and frown. He stares, all innocence. “You started that.”

  I tug the sheet between us and this time he scowls, pulling me and the sheet closer. “Fine.” His gaze turns introspective. “The night you came to my house, I was hosting an intervention.” He looks at me, playfully accusing. “Had you stuck around, you would have seen my parents arrive minutes later. I tried to call you, but your phone was turned off or something—the calls went straight to voice mail. I couldn’t leave, because I was the organizer of the intervention.”

  I smile sheepishly. I was a bit impulsive that night. My fears had gotten the best of me.

  He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Mira’s a mess. She’s always been fragile. Ever since we found her.”

  “When she was three.”

  He nods, lips compressed. “No matter what she wants people to believe, she is like a sister. When it’s only the two of us, we tease and joke and there’s none of the clinginess she exhibits around everyone else. She’s just—Mira. But… she can’t stand the thought of losing me. And it’s not what you think,” he adds quickly. “It’s not like that. She flirts to keep people away, and believe me, it’s damned annoying. I’ve told her to knock it off, but—well—she doesn’t exactly listen. Maybe a part of her believes I’d be a safe person to be with, but she’s not thinking right. Neither of us feels that way about the other.”

  He’s her safe choice? Wow, how different she and I are.

  “We’re close, closer than she is with my parents. Mira’s father died when she was a baby and her mother is a mess. That woman has done her best to ruin Mira. I’ve told Mira she won’t lose me, but she doesn’t get it. It’s a completely irrational fear.”

  He rolls onto his side and scoots down until his face is inches from mine. “I want to be with you. Like all the time. If I didn’t worry you’d freak out, I’d ask you to move in with me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I hate that I allowed my relationship with Mira to come between us and made you feel like you were some kind of afterthought to me. I’ve been doing everything I can to get Mira help so that changes and you never feel that way again, but I won’t abandon her.”

  I’m still stuck several sentences back. He wants me to move in with him?

  My heart is on overdrive and I’m trying to get it to simmer down and stop pounding so loudly in my ears, so I can hear what he’s saying. “I don’t want you to abandon her. That’s why—”

  He presses a finger to my lips. “Let me finish. Mira is perceptive. She knows me and she sees how I am around you. I’m convinced that’s why she’s acting crazy, but it’s more than that. She needs to see a counselor. She’s needed to for a long time, but this gambling thing clinches it.”

  He sighs and rubs his forehead. “I should have told you what was going on. I thought it would be less complicated if I just fixed it, but that made everything worse. I’ve never been this serious about anyone before and I screwed up. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”

  “You couldn’t know—”

  “Not the casino. I had the guys looking out for you and I’m glad I did. If that asshole—” He shakes his head sharply and breathes through his nose. “I’m talking about when you discovered your dad. I should have checked in more, made sure you were okay. I didn’t want to weigh you down with my stuff when you were already going through so much.”

  “But I want to be burdened. Despite how I might appear, I’m not weak.”

  He stares disbelievingly. “Are you kidding? You’re the toughest girl I know, but it doesn’t change the fact that I instinctively want to protect you.”

  Okay, that’s kind of sweet. And hot. I kiss his lips. “You need to let me in. Don’t shut me out.”

  He lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. “Believe me, lesson learned.”

  “What’s going to happen to Mira?”

  “The counselor said her gambling is a way to fill the void inside her. Mira sees me retreating to spend time with you and she doesn’t know how to give me space.”

  “What about your parents? Can they help?”

  “They have, but she latched on to me when we were young and she never let go.” He absently rubs the scar on his lip.

  It’s jagged and violent looking. “How did you get that?”

  He smoothes a lock of hair from my forehead. “I was sixteen. Mira wanted to visit her mom. She didn’t return after a few hours and I was worried about her, so I went looking.” He swallows, his hand stilling. “The door to her mom’s house was unlocked. I heard noises. I walked in and… he was beating Mira, her mother’s boyfriend. Blood everywhere. I thought she was dead.”

  He kisses my forehead, breathing in my scent as if to calm himself. “I was tall for sixteen. I ripped the guy off her and punched him in the face as hard as I could—broke his nose. I thought he’d back off.

  “When I crouched to help Mira, she was crying. I was so relieved she was alive I didn’t hear the bottle break or see the guy coming, but Mira’s eyes widened. I turned and knocked the glass out of his hand before he stabbed me in the back. A broken edge caught the corner of my mouth.”

  I kiss the scar and press my lips to his. “I’m so sorry. I’m glad she had you.”

  “It was a long time ago,” he says. “I want her to get real help. I thought she was getting better.”

  My eyes scrunch with incredulity.

  He blinks and looks away. “Not entirely better, but better than she is now. I’ve dated and she’s been somewhat okay with it. It wasn’t until I met you that I realized she wasn’t okay, not after she saw my reaction to you. She’s scared of having no one.”

  He links our fingers and holds them between us. “Genevieve, I—I think I fell in love with you that first night.” He rubs his forehead and smiles guiltily. “Maybe it was lust at first sight. However it started, it’s grown into something I didn’t recognize because I’d never felt this way before. I’m lighter when you’re near, happy. You’re challenging and wonderful, and so beautiful inside and out, it’s blinding. Please, give us a chance. Let me love you.”

  I will not cry at that sweet recitation. This conversation isn’t finished. “I’ve never let anyone get as close as you. Don’t keep me on the sidelines. I need to know it’s you and me in this together.”

  “Yes.” He presses our interlaced hands above his heart and kisses me until my lower back tingles. “Always.”

  He leans over and I kiss him with everything I have. “I love you,” I say. “I missed you so much. This was all I ever wanted. Just us.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I stare dumbfounded at my image in the mirror. “Mom, you’ve really outdone yourself.”

  She smiles broadly, a vision of chic sophistication in a cream silk suit Jackie O would have been proud to own. Who is this person? And is she trying to turn me into the old Chantell, because this d
ress… I raise my hand to tuck, or pull, but there’s really no place to grip without shifting material off essential body parts that need covering.

  My mom selected my bridesmaid gown prior to her visit in anticipation of her post-mudder Tahoe nuptials. It’s a fitted, silver metallic, animal print cutout dress with a crisscross top. The sides of my waist, center of my cleavage, and entire back are bare. Oh, and the dress only drops to mid-thigh. I dare not bend over without announcing the color of my panties.

  Holy shit, can I wear this in public? I mean, I’m wearing it because it’s my mom’s wedding day and she selected it, but will I get arrested?

  “It’s pretty, Mom.” And it is—the parts of it that exist. I grin and give her a hug. She’s been fluttering around all morning, setting our hand bouquets in water until the wedding takes place, making final arrangements at the restaurant she and Fred reserved for a private gathering with close friends and family. No signs of bridezilla from her, only pure joy.

  I’m still angry that my mom kept Jeb away after he got clean, but I can’t blame her for wanting to protect me. You protect the people you love.

  Mom and I step out of the limo Fred hired, and Lewis, Cali, and Jaeger are already standing in front of the small chalet-style chapel. The guys are wearing suits, Cali a lilac, clingy wrap dress that accentuates her curves.

  Lewis turns and immediately takes in my outfit. His eyes heat, his gaze never leaving mine as we approach.

  I know that look. Maybe I should be thanking my mom. The intensity on my boyfriend’s face is all sultry hot guy, and it’s going to be really challenging to wait until after the wedding to take advantage.

  Cali bites her lower lip, her mouth straining at the sides as she holds back a smile. “Hey,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “Nice dress.”

  I glare at her and she covers her smile with her fingertips. “No, seriously, can I borrow it?”

  This is the kind of dress Cali would wear. The reason she’s laughing is because I normally wouldn’t. “You are such an ass,” I tell her, and she snickers.

  “You look beautiful, Gen,” Jaeger says. Lewis fires him a dirty look. “What? She does.”

  “Keep your eyes above her neck,” Lewis mumbles.

  I slide my arm around his waist and kiss his jaw. I’m pretty sure the possessive guy thing is as rare for Lewis as having a girlfriend.

  Jaeger squeezes Cali close. “No need. Got all I want right here.” He kisses the top of her golden-red hair, gazing at her adoringly.

  Thank God Jaeger moved back into his house. Cali’s been staying with him most nights and it’s a good thing. I never heard unwanted noises from the tent, but the way these two talk sex with their eyes, I’m thanking my lucky stars they weren’t crashing in the loft.

  “You are beautiful.” Lewis kisses my lips. “You stole my ability to speak, think, or act responsibly when I saw you sitting at Zach’s table. You’re hot in high-water sweatpants and heels. In this—” His gaze rakes my figure. “I’m done for.”

  “Not many can pull off wrinkled sweatpants and heels,” I say saucily.

  “Exactly my point.” He grins.

  I have kind of turned his life upside down. I sure as hell caused complications. But his life was stuck. I just sort of unstuck it—forcefully. And he changed my life for the better too.

  I rise on my tippy toes—which isn’t far, because Mom selected five-inch heels to match the dress—and kiss him on the lips, lingering. “Thank you for making it work, even when I pushed you away.”

  “Always, only try not to do that anymore,” he says. “Easy would be nice every once in a while.”

  “Easy is my middle name.” He gives me a sidelong glance. “Just look at my dress—” I point to my outfit. “It spells E-A-S-Y.”

  His eyes glaze over as he takes in the outfit again. “Mmm,” he murmurs near my ear, and kisses the spot beneath. “I do like this dress.”

  “Genevieve!” my mom calls from inside the chapel.

  Shit, they’re inside already? I didn’t even notice them leave, thanks to dirty thoughts about my naughty boyfriend.

  Since when did my mom become the respectable one? My, how the tables have turned.

  Turning tables is good.

  Epilogue

  Three weeks later…

  Jeb waves to the Beacon waitress, signaling for another iced tea. “The police are questioning Drake again as we speak.”

  The restaurant patio and nearby beach are packed with tourists, but it’s like background noise after Jeb’s announcement.

  A week ago, Lewis and I went to the Blue Casino human resources department and Lewis told them what he’d witnessed in the hotel suite. The casino had already been contacted by the police regarding the incident in the storage room, and Drake had been ordered in by the police for questioning. I gave the casino my rendition of the events in the storage room, and every other incident where Drake frightened or hurt me. My body shook the entire time, but I didn’t leave out a single detail. Confronted with all the facts—old boys’ club or not—the casino was forced to initiate an investigation into their management.

  Drake won’t get away with what he did. Cali plans to speak to the police next and explain what happened the night we went to the club. On its own, her story might not warrant police attention, but coupled with my story, it shows a history of violence and premeditation on Drake’s part.

  The victim’s advocate the police assigned to my case convinced me to tell my mom what happened at the casino. I was not excited to tell her, but in a shocking turn of events, Mom didn’t go berserk. She squeezed the shit out of Fred’s hand while I relayed the information, but she kept it together—then promptly told Jeb.

  Apparently, Mom wasn’t great about sending photos of me to Jeb. They came in batches, or not at all for years at a time. But she was methodical about bimonthly updates on my progress from the time I was born. Jeb wouldn’t settle for less—something about needing to know I was okay. And Drake attacking me fell into the not okay category.

  In short: calm, sophisticated Jeb freaked the hell out over the Drake incident.

  I followed up with the police on the investigation into the storage room attack with my parents by my side, and hired an investigator and legal support with Jeb’s help.

  It’s very strange having a father. Or realizing I had one all these years and never knew it.

  Jeb offers me some of his appetizer and I shake my head. “So now we wait? You think there will be a trial?”

  “After all the evidence is collected, probably,” he says. “It could get ugly when it comes to the casino’s complicity.”

  Our burgers arrive and Jeb passes the ketchup. He ordered the Beacon Burger, a calamari appetizer, and a salad. I’ve learned in the few weeks we’ve kept in touch via Skype and the handful of times he’s visited since the race—to spend quality time with me, he says—that I come by my large appetite honestly. It runs in Jeb’s side of the family. He’s super fit for a guy his age, so I’m hoping I continue to take after him in the metabolism department.

  I set my burger down, my throat suddenly dry. “I’ll have to stand up in court and tell everyone what happened, won’t I?”

  He nods, worry lines around his eyes.

  “Okay, then. I’ll do it.”

  I don’t want to do it, but I will. How many women did Drake intimidate—touch—before me? The lump of meat I swallowed sits like a rock in my stomach. I was lucky, but others won’t be.

  Jeb slowly sets down his iced tea. “I can’t take credit for the wonderful woman you’ve grown to be, but I understand how much courage it takes to fight this and I’m proud of you.”

  He had more to do with my upbringing than he acknowledges. More than I ever knew, and that’s something I’ve come to realize throughout all this. Jeb didn’t wipe my snotty nose when I was a kid, but he made sure my mother and I had food and a roof over our heads. My mom never had to worry about money. She had someone to go to if she needed sup
port.

  Jeb polishes off the first half of his burger and makes quick work of the second. He wipes his fingers on the cloth napkin. “So have you thought about my offer?”

  I sip my water and consider a response. When Jeb discovered I planned to find another job to pay for graduate school, he offered to cover the costs so I wouldn’t have to work.

  “I’m not sure. I appreciate how you’ve provided for Mom and me all these years. Mom actually had it pretty easy, when I think about it.”

  He shrugs. “She put up with a lot when I left. She could have had an entirely different life if it weren’t for my carelessness.” I’m not convinced Jeb is entirely to blame. I know my mother, and conception is a two-way street. “It was my duty to take care of her, and you’re my daughter. There was no question I’d provide for you.”

  Jeb waves me off when I pull out my wallet to pay. He hands the waitress his credit card. “Your mom is married to Fred now, and he’s a good guy. He’s also a very wealthy man. I’d like her to keep the house I bought her, but we’ve spoken about it, and I’ll no longer provide what I considered a form of alimony, though we were never married. You, on the other hand, are an entirely different situation. You’re my daughter and I will support you until you get on your feet—pay for graduate school, help you get into a house. Simone and I are comfortable enough that we can do this for all our children.”

  He’s probably doing what he considers his responsibility, but… “That was never what was important to me. I wanted a father.”

  He lets out a slow breath. “I understand, and it’s what I want too. I’ve wanted that for a long while. I hope you realize things will be different now.”

  Jeb has visited often since the truth came out, so yes, I noticed.

  “I wish I could change the past,” he says. “Your mother and I made mistakes, and all I can say is that I’m here for you from here on out. It may be difficult to believe, but you were always on my mind, always my daughter, even if you didn’t know I was your father.”