Page 5 of Her Mountain Man Protector (Crave County: Mountain Men Love Curves #7)

MILA

I wake up late the next morning with a lurch of unease, the room swimming around me.

It takes me a second to remember where I am.

Anxiety tightens my throat as I convince myself I must be back in my room at the castle, about to marry Julian Kingsley.

But as I rub my eyes and sit up, it all comes back to me. I’m in Holden’s cabin. I’m safe.

With a sigh of relief, I push myself out of bed, catching the scent of bacon drifting toward me.

Holden must be cooking breakfast. I smile to myself, eager to see him again, and I freshen up quickly in the bathroom before I head for the door.

That’s when I spot a stack of clothing on the chair in the corner—shorts and t-shirts all in my size.

There’s also some brand-new items: a toothbrush still in the packet, shower gel, socks, and a six-pack of plain white underwear.

Did Holden get all this for me?

Feeling bemused, I pull on a fresh pair of underwear and some denim shorts. There are plenty of clean t-shirts to choose from, but I don’t want to take Holden’s off just yet. It still smells like him, that raw masculine scent that makes my heart stutter, and I tuck the extra fabric into my shorts.

Once I’m dressed, I pad into the hallway and head toward the sound of cupboards opening.

There I find Holden setting a couple of plates on the wooden countertop, flipping bacon with his free hand.

He’s wearing a white t-shirt beneath an unbuttoned plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up in a way that shows off his tattooed forearms. A pair of blue jeans hugs his muscular legs, and my eyes linger a beat too long on his firm ass before I finally announce my presence.

“Good morning!”

Holden glances over his shoulder at me. He looks insanely huge in this rustic kitchen, towering over the stove like a giant, and my pulse jumps when his eyes meet mine.

“Morning.” He nods at me. “Those shorts fit you okay?”

“Perfectly. Thank you so much! Where did you get all those clothes?”

“Texted my daughter this morning. She had to come pick up her truck, so I asked her to bring some of her clothes.”

“That was kind.” I feel a rush of affection for Holden’s daughter. It’s so nice to have some real clothes to wear after spending all of yesterday in that dress. “What about all the new stuff, though? The toothbrush and underwear…”

Holden is quiet as he turns back to the stove. “Yeah, well, figured you might need a few extra things, so I took a trip down to Cherry Hollow.”

He says it reluctantly, like he doesn’t want to take the credit.

This man really seems to hate being thanked or acknowledged for his kindness, and yet I already have so much to thank him for.

He drove all the way into town before I’d even woken up to buy me new socks, and just like last night, I’m hit by the all-encompassing desire to throw my arms around him.

It’s like an ache in my chest that won’t go away.

“Thank you, Holden.” I want to say so much more, but I keep it brief so he doesn’t have to suffer through the praise he seems to hate so much. “I’ll pay you back for all of it as soon as I can.”

Holden grumbles, “You don’t need to pay me anything.” As I start to protest, he raises a hand. “Not going to argue with you about it. I’m not taking your money, Mila.” His voice is firm, but there’s a softness in his deep blue eyes that makes me melt. “Now let’s go eat some breakfast.”

I beam at him as he plates up the food. He’s cooked a lot: bacon, eggs, sausages, hash browns, buttered toast, and a jug of orange juice.

My stomach growls as we sit down at the table, the late morning light streaming in through the windows.

Outside, the forest is a bright, vivid green, the trees swaying like dancers.

It’s beautiful. So quiet. All I can hear is the gentle breeze, the twitter of birdsong.

“Hope this is all okay,” Holden says as we tuck into our breakfast. “Figured you’d be hungry after only eating that sandwich yesterday, so I made a lot.”

“It’s delicious!” Everything is hot, fresh, and tastes amazing. “I’m always hungry in the mornings. There’s no such thing as too much breakfast.”

Holden’s lip quirks into a barely there smile. “I’m with you on that one.”

As we eat, my eyes drift to the boxes I noticed yesterday, taped up and lining the walls.

“So, where did you move here from?” I ask curiously, taking a sip of orange juice. “You said you just moved in, right?”

“Yeah. Came here from Denver. Lived there for twenty years, but Cherry Hollow is my hometown. I grew up here.”

It’s hard to picture this man living in a city. He’s as big and wild as Cherry Mountain itself, a rugged mountain man through and through. I guess the wildness never left him, even after he moved to Denver.

“What brought you back here after all that time?”

Holden frowns. “Long story…”

He quickly recounts how this cabin was bequeathed to him and his childhood friend, Wyatt. He explains what happened when his daughter met Wyatt last month—how they fell in love almost immediately. I hang onto every word.

“So when Isabelle moved out here to live with Wyatt, I figured I’d move back too,” he finishes. “Wanted to be close to her.”

“Wow.” I blink at him, taking it all in. “It must have been…a lot. Seeing your daughter and your best friend get together so fast. Then uprooting your life right afterward.”

Holden grunts. “Sure was. I’m still getting used to it.” He runs a hand over his thick beard, looking thoughtful. “This cabin still doesn’t feel like home. But hell, Isabelle’s happy. As a father, I can’t ask for more than that.”

My chest flutters as I nod. Beneath his grumpy exterior, Holden has a heart of gold, and it’s clear he loves his daughter.

He must be a caring father to accept her relationship with his best friend.

He’s so unlike my parents, who would cut me off without a second thought if I dated somebody they disapproved of.

Heck, after what I did at my wedding, they’ll probably never talk to me again.

I swallow down the bittersweet thought, quickly changing the subject.

“Are you going to keep working as a mechanic now that you live out here?” I ask.

“That’s the plan.” Holden’s gaze slides back to mine. “I had my own auto shop back in Denver and sold it when I moved. I’ve already made an offer on an old warehouse in Cherry Hollow that I want to convert into a garage. Still waiting to hear if they’ll accept.”

“That’s so exciting.” I grin at him. It’s easy to picture Holden rooting around beneath the hood of a car, hands slick with oil, brow furrowed in concentration.

The mental image sends a burst of heat through me, and I feel my cheeks pinkening beneath his gaze.

I look away, busying myself with cutting up a piece of bacon.

“What about you?” Holden asks, his deep voice sending a shiver through me. “What do you do back in New York?”

My cheeks redden even more, this time from embarrassment. How can I tell this hardworking, salt-of-the-earth guy I’ve never worked a day in my life? How would he react if he knew that my parents always refused to let me earn my own money, insisting that working was somehow beneath our family?

“I’m between jobs at the moment,” I say carefully. “I guess I’m still figuring out what I want to do.”

Holden nods without judgment. “You’re young. Got plenty of time to work all that out.”

I smile at him, but I can tell there’s more he wants to ask.

He’s obviously curious about my failed wedding and the man I left at the altar yesterday.

Heck, I guess it’s not every day a girl in a wedding dress shows up at your house.

But I’m eager to avoid talking about Julian Kingsley, so I quickly start asking him about Denver as we finish our breakfast. It feels so natural, sitting here in his cabin, listening to the rumble of his voice as he tells me about his life in the suburbs of the city.

But as Holden stops talking and takes our empty plates back into the kitchen, I’m hit by a wave of guilt.

Grace.

I need to get back to my sister. She doesn’t deserve to be worrying about me, dealing with our parents’ anger all by herself. Staying here with Holden is selfish, no matter how much I love being around him.

But maybe just a few more hours…

The clock on the wall says it’s nearly eleven.

I tell myself I’ll leave at three. It will give me a little more time to prepare myself for seeing my parents again…

a little more time with Holden. But I don’t just want to sit around for four hours; I want to pay this man back for all the kindness he’s shown me.

I owe him so much, and as I look around the room, an idea forms in my mind.

“Can I help you unpack?” I ask as Holden reenters the room.

He raises a bushy eyebrow. “Unpack?”

I nod. “There are a lot of boxes to get through. I figured you could use some help.”

Holden considers me, crossing his arms as he says, “You don’t need to do that, Mila.”

My name sounds like heaven on his lips, the two syllables making me shiver. He’s looking down at me, piercing me with those deep blue eyes, and I suck in a shaky breath.

“I want to,” I tell him. “It will be fun.” He grunts, unconvinced, so I continue. “I know you said this place doesn’t feel like home yet. But maybe unpacking will help. You must have some photos you can put up?”

Holden looks at me for a moment longer before he nods reluctantly. “Guess you’re right. I was planning to start today…hell, I’ve been putting it off long enough. But you’re sure you want to help?”

“Positive.” I get up from my chair, following Holden toward a stack of boxes in the corner.

He lifts the top two down from the pile, holding out the lighter one to me.

We’re standing too close, our bodies almost touching as I take the box from him.

Our eyes meet, the air thickening with tension as a beat of silence passes between us.

Then another. For a crazy moment, I think he might kiss me.

His eyes flit down to my mouth, and my heart thuds almost painfully as I force myself to take a step back.

You’re leaving in a few hours, I think. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.

“Well,” I say a little too brightly, focusing my gaze on a point just behind Holden’s shoulder, “let’s get started!”