A Mountain Man Christmas Crush (Mountain Men of Granite Junction #1)

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

G ene straightened and tried to work the kinks out of his back. He was too damned old to be sleeping on the floor, even on a thin mat in a sleeping bag. He was lucky it wasn’t the dirt or rocks like he had when he was in the military, but damn, he had been fifteen years younger then too and bounced back a helluva lot faster. Bo stared at him from his comfy nest of blankets that he’d made from Gene’s bed, a slightly accusatory look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I know. I could have stayed above Zane’s bar, but you know it would have been too noisy and that fluffy hellion he has there would have tortured the hell out of you for fun. Trust me, she’s no angel and there’s no getting her to purr for anyone but Zane.”

But he might have to reconsider or figure out something more permanent, because sleeping in his workshop for months wouldn’t be a solution. He wouldn’t be able to rebuild the cabin until the snows melted, and that would most likely last until late spring, especially where his land was. And then it would take time to rebuild. He was looking at a good six months or more for a place to stay. He couldn’t impose on anyone for that length of time. So, he was looking at some kind of short-term rental at best, somewhere that wouldn’t trigger his stress at being with people and their noise.

A hard rap on the door to his shop made him pause. He looked at Bo, who lifted his head, yawned and stared at the door. “What kind of guard dog are you?”

He stomped to the door and paused, reminding himself that people were only trying to help. Wanda Moore, Granite Junction’s unofficial welcome committee chair, had already stopped by with some clothes and toiletries. He’d been a bit unfriendly, but she’d been unfailingly polite to him. He owed her an apology. Maybe that rocking chair she’d been eyeing to rock her new grandchild in.

He wasn’t rude, not really. He just enjoyed being alone and his routine. Being around people reminded him of things he couldn’t have anymore.

When he felt like he could be polite and not the town grump, he opened the door, and all of his hard work went right out the door. “What are you doing here?”

Sarah St. James stood on his doorstep, looking so sweet and innocent in her painted-on jeans, showcasing a curvy frame that he adored, a white puff jacket that hid absolutely nothing from his imagination, and the hood with faux fur that framed her round, sweet face. Damn it. He stayed away from her to keep himself from doing anything either of them would regret, and she persisted in following him into the lion’s den.

“You keep following me, little girl, and you’ll get more than you bargained for.”

Her eyes narrowed, a hint of anger in them that only fueled his arousal. “And you keep snapping like a wounded grizzly bear with a thorn in its paw, but we all know that wounded animals often just need a little bit of kindness, and they turn into the sweetest pets.”

“I’m not a lapdog, Sarah. I’m more like that grizzly than a sweet pup.”

At that moment, Bo pushed between them and wiggled in excitement at seeing another human, one who might worship him properly. Her face changed from the irritated woman to a sweet girl and she dropped to her knees and hugged the white and brown pup, who licked her face with enthusiasm. He’d never been so damned jealous of a dog.

He grabbed Bo’s collar and pulled him back. “Get off of her and show some manners, boy. Jeez. You never know where that tongue has been.”

Sarah straightened and fixed her coat, following him into the shop without waiting for an invitation. “A dog’s mouth is cleaner than a human’s, you know.”

He snorted. “A myth, I’m sure. What do you want, Sarah?”

She eyed his workshop and his makeshift bed. He folded his arms in front of himself, refusing to defend himself or his living arrangements for one minute, even as he had the urge to clean up or hide it from her. She was much too fancy for his digs. She didn’t belong here. Hell, even her name was saint-like while he was the devil. At least his thoughts were.

She folded her hands in front of her primly and fixed a firm look on him. “You need a place to stay, and I have plenty of room at my house. Before you protest, your dog is welcome too, of course. I have turned the St. James house into a bed-and-breakfast, so it’s just like staying at Redemption Guest Ranch or the Lodge except I’m not expecting any guests, not until spring. So, you won’t have to deal with any people around except for me. Now, that may be a problem for you or not. But it’s a place to stay, and food, without people around.”

“What makes you think that bothers me?”

Her gaze softened, and he realized her father must have shared some of his past with her. “My father explained you liked your space, which was why he sold you the cabin before his death. He was glad someone loved it as much as he had when he could still use it. I had no use for it, so I was happy it went to you. I don’t get many visitors now that he’s passed, and it’s just me, Della occasionally, and the goats.”

He broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of staying at her house, just the two of them. The temptation of being so close, no one else as a buffer, was too much for him, even as the thought of being far from most crowds and near to nature was attractive.

“You still have those goats?”

She smiled. “I’m making goat’s milk soaps and lotions now. It’s a small thing but keeps the lights on.”

He frowned. The way she said that made him wonder about the state of her finances. Her smile was a little too bright, a little too forced, though it could be from the way they had left things between them, when he had chased her out of his workshop a couple of years earlier.

“I’ll be paying rent to stay there. I can afford it and would be paying anywhere else.” And there it was, a hint of relief in her eyes. There was something going on.

But she was stubborn to the end. “My father cared about you. You were like a son to him. He would want me to open our home to you.”

“He helped me when I had nothing. I am doing well with my art and furniture now, thanks to him. I can afford it.”

And maybe it would assuage the guilt he felt after not checking in on Sarah after her father passed. It had been cowardly, avoiding her because all he wanted to do was kiss her breathless, tear her clothes off and sink into her softness. But she was way too innocent for him. He would destroy her with the darkness in him.

“I have one rule. Don’t come into my room, especially at night. I have nightmares and no matter what you hear, you can’t come in. I could hurt you. This is non-negotiable, Sarah. Stay away.”

Her blue eyes were wide, but she nodded. She stuck out her hand. “Deal.”

He wiped his dirty hands on his jeans and shook hers, the feel of her delicate soft hands going straight to his cock. “I’ll see you later.”

He was going straight to hell.

* * *

S arah paused, her hand on the doorknob. She hadn’t been in this room in several months, not since they’d cleaned out the room after her father’s passing. She had kept it cleaned and aired out but hadn’t put it on the reservation list yet. It was just too soon. But it seemed fitting that the first person to stay there would be Gene Woodruff. Besides, if she got any reservations, they would be in the other side of the house first, away from the family rooms, giving him some privacy.

But it wouldn’t be easy walking into these rooms. She firmly turned the knob and pushed open the door, ignoring the memories that assaulted her.

“I thought you would be more comfortable here, away from any possible guest rooms. Not that I have any guests staying soon, but you never know. Besides, the guest rooms are a bit more… frilly.”

When she didn’t sense him behind her, she turned to find him still standing in the doorway, eyeing the room doubtfully. “More than this?”

“It was my father’s room. Trust me, there is nothing frilly in here. You’ve been living off the grid for too long.” She stroked the natural colored, seersucker, down-filled comforter set, and the heavy burgundy felted blanket folded across the foot of the bed. “This is what a bed feels like and heat, not a wood stove.”

“I have a bed in my cabin,” he grumbled.

“Had,” she corrected. “You can adjust this to your desired sleeping firmness, whether you like it harder or softer.” She blushed as he lifted an eyebrow at her, which she otherwise ignored, and went on with the mini-tour. “You have your own bathroom with indoor plumbing. A toilet, shower and a sink.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? What do you think my life was like in the cabin?”

She turned in the bathroom doorway. “The last time I was at the cabin was before you moved in, but I recall an outhouse and a pump for water. Tell me you ran a sewer line and installed plumbing, and I’ll back off.”

“Not exactly.”

“Okay then. Yes, I am enjoying this, but I’ll stop. We have Wi-Fi for our guests and there’s a television in the cabinet here, along with streaming, so you can catch up on all the shows since the Brady Bunch.”

“I thought you said you were going to stop. I might have to punish you for being fresh, little girl.”

Yes, please, she almost said, but bit the words back. Anything to get his hands on her. “I’m not a little girl, Gene. I haven’t been for a long time. I took care of my dad for the past two years since his stroke and I have been running a business here. I’m twenty-eight years old, which might be much younger than you, but I’m not a child. And neither are you an old man, whether or not you feel like it. We’re different from when you first came to Granite Junction. And if you’re going to stay here, I’d appreciate that you treat me as an adult, not a child.”

He looked immediately remorseful. “You’re right, Sarah. You’re not a child and I’ve never seen you as one. But you have to understand, the crush you had on me, we can never act on it. I’m not good for you, for anyone really. So, if I stay here, we’re just roommates. Understood?”

She stifled her disappointment, even as he confirmed what she had feared, that he would keep her firmly at a distance. But at least she got him to admit she was not a child. That was a step in the right direction. Maybe with their proximity, she could win him over.

She pasted on a bright smile. “Understood. I’ll leave you to get settled. I left dad’s hunting clothes in the closet. I think they’ll fit you. You’re welcome to join me for meals. I don’t usually provide meals for guests, but you’re more of a boarder than a guest and I would like the company.”

She headed for the door and paused, looking into the room a little wistfully. “It’s nice to have someone in the house again. It’s been a little lonely. Let me know if you need anything.”