Page 9 of Moonlight With Maddox (Mountain Men Fall Harder #6)

M addox

I pull into the clearing in front of my cabin and kill the engine of my truck. I sit there for a moment in silence and let out a slow breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Leni’s laugh still echoes in my head, bright and unguarded.

And that kiss—it took every ounce of strength in my body to not pull her into my arms and show her just how much I’m already feeling for her.

It’s nothing like the memories that I’ve been carrying around of my past. It’s like the door to my heart has been cracked open inside me, letting in light I hadn’t realized I’d needed to see the hollow man I’d become.

Maybe I am ready to let someone in again. No, not someone, but Leni.

I head inside and breathe in the familiar scent of cedar and woodsmoke. I toss my keys down on the table near the door, and head into the kitchen for a beer. Twisting the top of my bottle, I take a long pull of the amber liquid.

I’ve nearly finished it when I see it. The little red light blinking on the ancient answering machine by the phone.

No one ever calls on this landline except for the ranger station, and that’s only if they can’t reach me on my radio.

I hit the play button.

“Maddox?” Angie’s voice comes through the speaker, and it’s all too familiar for my liking. “I had to try and call this old line since you still don’t own a cell phone. I just needed—I just wanted to say that I’ve been thinking about you. And I hope you are doing okay. Call me if you want to talk.”

The message ends with a click.

My jaw tightens. Of course, this happens. The minute I start to feel like I might be moving forward, Angie finds a way to wedge herself back in. It’s like she has some kind of Maddox is happy radar and needs to fuck with me.

I hit the delete button, before I can think too much about it. The machine beeps, erasing her voice, but the heartache in her wake still lingers. The painful memory of her walking away without a backwards glance.

I rub my hand over my face and down the rest of my beer, before heading out onto my porch that overlooks the valley below.

Leni is down there somewhere, and I close my eyes to see her beautiful face again.

But the image morphs into the memory of Angie walking out the door but is replaced by Leni instead.

Everyone leaves eventually. Angie. My folks. And soon enough, Leni will too.

A heaviness presses on my chest.

Tomorrow, I’ll take her up to Lookout Point, just like I promised. But I can’t delude myself into thinking she will give up her life to stay here with me.

Nothing can happen.