Mountain Man's Baby Plan Read online

  Maybe it’s my own fault for not taking the car to the garage before taking it for such a long drive. I meant to do that this afternoon, but that’s apparently too late already.

  Perhaps everything that has gone wrong in my life is my fault.

  In a way, that’s a comforting thought because maybe there’s something I could do to fix things even if there’s one big thing I won’t ever be able to fix.

  Luckily, my phone still gets a signal here. I Google the number for the only mechanic in town, Eddie. I call him up as I wrap my jacket tighter around me. I hope it won’t take him too long.

  I hear a dial tone, then a robotic voice picks up and says, “You’ve reached—” a pause, then Eddie says, “Eddie’s Garage.” The first voice finishes with, “Please leave your message after the beep.”

  I curse in my head. This will probably take longer than I’d hoped, and snow is starting to fall. Tiny flakes stick to my windshield before the heater melts them into little water droplets.

  I wonder how much gas I have left in the tank. The fuel gauge hasn’t been working for years—another thing I probably should’ve fixed before starting to drive it this morning.

  I hear a beep from the other end of the line and say, “Hi Eddie, this is Sophia York. My car won’t start, and I’m stuck on the highway to Dewhurst. I’m about ten miles from Ashbourne, parked close to the Stromes’ cabin.”

  I ask him to call me back as soon as possible, leave him my number, and thank him. I let out a big sigh as I end the call.

  What do I do now? If Eddie doesn’t come soon, I’ll be in real trouble. Mom and Dad are minding their coffee shop, which is understaffed because their barista is taking a vacation, so they won’t be able to pick me up until after closing time.

  I stare at the cabin. There are so many memories tied up with that place my chest tightens at the sight. I can’t even count the number of nights I fell asleep thinking about what had happened in there, what Eli and I had done in that warm, cozy cabin.

  Damn it, warm and cozy sound really good right now.

  I narrow my eyes at the cabin.

  It doesn’t seem like anyone’s inside. There are no tracks leading to the door, and there’s no smoke coming out of the chimney.

  After what happened yesterday at Bertha’s cupcake shop, I don’t want to see Eli ever again. But maybe … Maybe I won’t have to see him. He doesn’t even have to know I’ve been inside.

  I yank open the glove compartment. If Mom and Dad haven’t thrown out anything, it should still be in there …

  I fumble around, tossing scraps of paper out onto the passenger seat until, finally, I hear metal jangling.

  The key—it’s still in here!

  My fingers urgently move things aside until I touch something hard and cold.

  The key. I really still have it.

  I stare at it then flick my gaze toward the cabin.

  Am I really about to do this? I could … But, do I really want to?

  Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. I don’t even know if this key will still open the door. It’s been seven years. Eli has probably re-keyed it.

  That’s right. There’s no need to worry about whether I should go in there because I don’t even know if I can get in.

  Well, there’s only one way to find out.

  I grip the car key in the ignition, my hand frozen in place.

  This is breaking and entering, right? Even though Eli is the last person I want to speak to right now, maybe I should give him a call … except I don’t know his number.

  The only reason I’m aware Eli has changed his number is because after moving to the city, I tried to call him, over and over again, day after day. I kept hearing the dial tone, but nobody ever picked up. After a few weeks of that, I tried calling and didn’t hear anything—not even a dial tone.

  I guess he didn’t want to hear from me. This knowledge tortured me, especially at night when I was lying alone in my new, unfamiliar bed in a new, unfamiliar city. I lay awake going through all the conversations we’d had, wondering what I’d done wrong.

  Outside, even more snow is falling, but it’s barely cold enough for the snow to remain solid until it touches the ground. Damp, white clumps cover the road.

  I have to walk a few yards to reach the cabin. If I wait any longer and the snow/rainfall grows any heavier, I’ll be soaking wet by the time I get inside—that is, if I can get inside at all with this old key.

  I attempt another call to Eddie’s Garage, but no luck. I just hear the voicemail prompt again, so I hang up.

  Turning off the ignition, I open the door. The cold bites into the exposed skin of my face. As the dampness seeps into my clothes and my shoes, the rest of my body starts to feel the sting.

  If I can’t open the door, I can at least take shelter on the front porch of the cabin, which is covered by a roof overhang. But, as soon as my trembling fingers insert the key into the lock, it turns easily, and the door unlocks with an effortless click.

  Without any hesitation, I step inside.

  It’s too cold out there to overthink things. Besides, what’s the alternative? Just wait in the car until I run out of gas and I run out of heat?

  Immediately, my eyes find the gas fireplace. Thankfully, I’m lucky for once and the pilot light is on. I take off my wet shoes and socks then turn the control knob to the max and park myself by the dancing flame.

  This feels good. I’ve obviously made the right decision coming inside. My bare feet feel particularly good by the flame.

  I take off my wet, heavy jacket, but my jeans and my shirt are damp, too. They’ll probably dry after a few minutes sitting by the fireplace, but … I mean, I’m the only one here, right?

  As I scan the place and look around, I tell myself it’s not like I’ve never been naked in here before, anyway …

  So, I shed my clothes, all the way down to my underwear, and let the warmth from the flame dry my skin and penetrate into my flesh.

  I close my eyes and lie down on the wooden floor. This feels really good.

  If I had some of Eli’s delicious hot chocolate, this would be perfect. But, I know how impossible that is.

  He hates me. And, after I made a spectacle of myself yesterday, he probably thinks I’m an idiot.

  I almost drift off to sleep when I hear the door creak.

  Crap.

  Did I forget to lock it?

  Did the wind blow it open, or did someone open it?

  “Who the fuck are you?” a gruff, angry voice demands. “And what the fuck are you doing here?”

  My sleepy eyes snap awake to see the open flame flickering right in front of me. Realizing I’m wearing nothing but my underwear, I reach for my shirt.

  “Hey! Don’t move. I have a rifle pointing right at you,” the voice says. “Turn around slowly. Put your hands up high over your head.”

  Eli

  As the cabin comes into view, I remember all the times in the past I used to take Sophia here for our secret rendezvous.

  Fuck. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since yesterday.

  It took me forever to even start functioning like a normal human being when she left town.

  I was never delusional enough to think I was over her, though. How could I when I compared all girls to her, and they always fell short?

  I did, however, start to think it wasn’t as intense as I remember. Perhaps it was just because I was younger then. Maybe my memories are playing tricks on me.

  But, it only took one short glimpse of her to make all those feelings come flooding back.

  Even before she stood up, as soon as I saw that red hair behind the counter, my heart did a backflip in my chest. After all these years, I still see her everywhere, and I dismissed my first thought of that girl being her.

  But for once, it was her. Sophia. My Sophia.

  She probably hates me. She hid from me and barely said anything to me. I kept hoping she’d emerge from the restroom so we could … I don’t know,
talk, maybe … but I never saw her again after that.

  I can’t blame her for hating me, of course. I pushed her away. I wanted her to hate me—that would make it easier for both of us.

  Well, I got my wish. The situation isn’t ideal, but I can’t say I regret my decision.

  I squint as I draw close to the cabin.

  What the fuck? The snow has almost covered them, but … Are those footprints in the snow, leading to the front door?

  This place is pretty secluded, so I’ve had squatters in the past who have tried to claim the cabin for themselves. They broke in and made themselves comfortable, raiding my food supplies and making a dirty, stinking mess.

  I park a little further away from where I usually stop. In this heavy snowfall, the only two cops in town probably won’t be able to come here very quickly.

  I’ll have to take matters into my own hands, and I don’t want to announce my arrival with the sound of the truck engine. It’s not a problem; I’m more than capable of taking down some homeless bum on my own.

  As I get out of the truck, rifle in hand, I’m glad I came prepared.

  I was hoping to spend my morning hunting small game in the woods behind the cabin. It’s one of the few things that forces me to focus all my attention. It was supposed to help take my mind off Sophia.

  But, it’s looking more like I’ll be catching an intruder and dealing with the cops for the rest of the day instead. Great. Just fucking great.

  I step through the slushy snow that’s starting to pile up on the ground and approach a window. I peer inside, my hands ready to aim and fire the rifle if necessary.

  I hope I won’t have to hurt anyone. But, no matter what, I can’t let some fucking bums, who are potentially dangerous, take over the cabin.

  I don’t know what I expected to see inside, but it sure as hell isn’t a half-naked woman asleep by the fireplace.

  Who the fuck breaks into someone else’s property and falls asleep? How long has she been in there that she has already made herself that comfortable?

  Narrowing my eyes at the female form, my heart races.

  That long, wavy, flaming red hair … That smooth, creamy skin … Those gentle curves …

  She can’t be … No, of course not.

  Sure, Sophia is in town. But, I need to stop thinking every red-headed girl is her.

  Why would she enter my cabin and sleep naked inside? It doesn’t make any sense. After all these years, she has probably lost her copy of the key.

  Besides, how would Sophia have gotten here in the first place? Did she walk all the way from Ashbourne? Did she hail a cab and ask to be dropped here at my cabin just so she could take a nap in her underwear?

  Don’t be an idiot, I tell myself. Of course, that’s not Sophia. Don’t let your obsession make you lower your guard now.

  The intruder may be a woman, but that doesn’t mean she’s harmless. She may be hiding some kind of weapon close by.

  I peek inside through the window again. Nobody has made a sound, and I see no other person inside. Maybe she’s alone.

  I can easily overpower a lone, female bum.

  But then again, I’ve only seen “her” from the back; it’s possible the intruder is a “he.” And, there may be more than one trespasser inside.

  I won’t take any chances.

  First, I’ll throw the door wide open and hold her at gunpoint. Then, I’ll make her put her hands up in the air and tell me if she’s alone. Lastly, with the mouth of my rifle pressed against her back, I’ll make her take me to every single room and closet in the cabin.

  Adrenaline enters my bloodstream, giving me a surge of energy. I turn the doorknob—the door’s unlocked. Maybe this bum isn’t so smart, after all.

  I kick the door open and point my rifle at the figure asleep by the fireplace.

  “Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck are you doing here?” I demand in a loud voice.

  The figure jerks awake and immediately reaches for something blocked from my view by her body. A gun? Some other kind of weapon?

  “Hey!” I bark.

  She freezes. Good.

  “Don’t move. I have a rifle pointing right at you,” I say. “Turn around slowly. Put your hands up high over your head.”

  As she sits up, her hair tumbles down her back. The flame sets her hair aglow as her shadow dances on the wooden floor planks.

  For a moment, I’m convinced I’m looking at Sophia. This scene reminds me so much of all that time we spent together, here in the cabin.

  I shake my head, exorcising the delusional illusion.

  But, as she turns her head toward me, my heart stops.

  “Sophia?” I ask.

  “Hi, Eli” she says softly, her hands raised in the air as her big, green eyes tremble with fear. “Can I at least put on a shirt before we talk?”

  “What …” I start to speak, but my voice won’t come out. I clear my throat and resist the urge to tell her no, tell her she should strip down to nothing instead.

  My eyes take in the glorious sight of her—her blazing hair, her creamy tits, her porcelain skin.

  I take a deep breath. I should say something before I make this weird.

  “Of course. Of course, you can put on a shirt,” I say.

  “Thank you.” Sophia reaches her delicate hand behind her to grab a piece of clothing and put it on. The fabric appears dark and heavy, like it’s wet.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, lowering my weapon. I close the door and force myself to look away from her—a feat of willpower when the long legs that have dominated my dreams for years are right in front of me.

  “I … My car broke down, and I had to take shelter in here,” she says. “Sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “That’s okay.” I enter the living room and take a seat on the couch, facing away from her and the fireplace. As I rest my rifle on the coffee table, I hear fabric rustling from her direction. “How did you get in here?”

  “I still … I had the key in my glove compartment. I was driving my old car.”

  “I didn’t see it outside.” I look through the window at the snow covering the ground outside. It’s so empty I would’ve noticed another car.

  “Yeah. It’s parked just around the bend. The engine just stopped working while I was driving. I remembered your cabin was close enough for me to walk here.”

  “Are your clothes wet?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Here.” I grab a blanket from the couch and hold it out for her. “You can use this.”

  “Thank you, but that’s not necessary,” she says. “Don’t worry. I was just about to leave.”

  “You can stay if you want.”

  Please stay, I say in my head. I’ve dreamed about this moment, the moment I see her again, a thousand times, over the years.

  “No,” she says without offering any explanation.

  “Or, I can drive you back into town,” I offer.

  “No, I don’t want to trouble you.” Sophia walks across the living room, completely dressed in her shirt, jeans, and jacket—all blotchy and heavy with moisture.

  “Where do you think you’re going in those wet clothes?” I ask.

  “Eddie will be here any minute now. I’ll just wait for him in the car in case he gets there and doesn’t see me,” she says.

  “That’s a stupid plan,” I blurt out, annoyed that she’d rather suffer through the cold outside than stay here with me where it’s warm. Does she really hate me that much?

  “Who are you calling stupid?” she asks, staring sharply at me.

  “Nobody.” I sigh. “Look outside. There’s nobody out there. If a car passes through, I promise you, you’ll hear it from here. You were sleeping, so don’t tell me you were just leaving anyway.”

  “I’d still rather wait in the car,” she says.

  “Eddie is swamped with work because he’s just gotten back from his vacation. It could be a while before he gets here,” I say as calmly as
I can. “It doesn’t matter how you feel about spending time with me. You don’t have any other choice. Stop being stubborn and listen to me, for once.”

  I look up at Sophia and realize maybe I’ve said the wrong thing.

  She stands with arms crossed, glaring at me. She doesn’t seem to realize that her posture is pushing her tits up and forward, making them look even more tantalizing through the gap in the front of her jacket.

  But I won’t mention it. She seems angry enough as it is.

  Sophia

  How dare he talk to me like that, like he knows me? Sure, he used to be the person who knew me best … even better than my own best friend.

  But, I’m a different person now. I’m a grown-up, and he doesn’t get to order me around like that.

  For all he knows, I had already set up an alarm to go off so I would wake up around now.

  For all he knows, Eddie could have already called me and told me he was coming.

  For all he knows, my clothes aren’t wet but just patterned.

  I stare at him. After the way he broke things off between us, he doesn’t have any right acting like he knows me.

  But, at the same time, I can’t deny he’s right.

  He looks up at me from the couch, his dark gaze steady and calm. The flame from the fireplace behind him casts his face in shadows, making him appear sinister and dangerous. He exudes a certain alpha quality I can’t quite pin down, a certain authority I can’t just dismiss.

  “Fine.” I realize my voice sounds bratty and petulant, so I add, “If you insist, I’ll stay.”

  “Good,” Eli says. “Take your wet clothes off and put on this blanket.”

  I grab the striped fleece blanket from his hand. He has taken off his own jacket. I can’t help but notice his beautiful, veiny forearms and big, masculine hands.

  “Don’t peek.” I walk around the couch to stand between the back of his couch and the fireplace.

  “Of course not,” he says. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

  What does he mean by that?

  I’m glad Eli’s not looking my way because his careless words are enough to send a chill down my arms. My face heats up, and it’s not just because of the flame from the fireplace.