Page 2 of Mountain Man Obsessed (Hard Timber Mountain Men #3)

JESSA

I spent most of the night trying to come up with other ideas on how I could build out my resume without working with Harlan.

But after bingeing an entire sharing-size bag of peanut butter M&Ms, which was nowhere near big enough to share with anyone, and downing two glasses of huckleberry wine I’d found inside one of my dad’s kitchen cabinets, I hadn’t been able to think of another way.

Being back in Hard Timber was humiliating.

I thought when I’d left for college that I’d be gone for good.

Leaving my tiny hometown behind me was step one in a long list of goals I’d written down in elementary school.

Step two was supposed to be graduating from college and finding a job in the city.

It didn’t even matter which one. I was willing to go anywhere as long as it was miles and miles away from Hard Timber, Montana.

But now I was back, living at my dad’s—a man who’d barely acknowledged me when I depended on him and flat out ignored me now—sleeping in the same bedroom where I’d grown up, and trying to figure out a way to escape… again.

Unfortunately for both me and Harlan, my best shot of getting out of Hard Timber was to help him secure a future for Big Package Outfitters.

It wouldn’t be easy, but I was used to doing hard things.

I’d grown up with three older brothers who looked at me like I was always the weakest link and a dad who barely bothered to look at me at all.

Underestimating me came naturally to all the men in my life, including Harlan.

I’d prove myself to him and to everyone else, then get out of town before summer ended.

Satisfied to have a plan, I pulled into a spot in front of Hard Timber Outfitters in my dad’s old work truck. The store hadn’t opened yet, so I grabbed my coffee and peered through the front window while I braced myself for another run-in with Harlan.

It had been a while since I’d been inside.

The whole place looked more like an old-fashioned bunker than an outdoor gear store.

While I got a head start making mental notes of everything that needed to be changed, which was literally everything, Harlan rounded the corner of the building, his giant mastiff by his side.

“What are you doing here?” He wasn’t happy to see me, not that I expected anything different. Bubbles was interested, though. The big dog sauntered over and nudged my hand with his massive head.

“Hey, Bubbles.” I got a serious kick out of Harlan having a giant dog named Bubbles.

He’d tried to rename him after he brought him home from the rescue, but Bubbles was either too lazy or not quite bright enough to figure out the name change.

I didn’t need to lean over very far to look him in the eye.

“How do you stand living with someone who doesn’t know how to smile? ”

“Does he look like a dog who complains very often?” Harlan grumbled.

“He looks like a dog who’s been bribed with your homemade jerky to put up with you.”

Harlan pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door. “Works on more than dogs, sweetheart.”

I would have let the sarcasm fly if I didn’t need his help as much as he needed mine. “Don’t hold your breath.”

He let out a gruff laugh, more in irritation than in humor. “Seriously, Jessa. Why the hell are you here?”

I pulled myself up to my full height, which still left me more than a foot shorter than him, and pasted on a patronizing smile. “I’m here for my first day of work.”

“That’s funny. I don’t remember hiring you.”

I followed him into the store. Ugh. The scent of dust, damp canvas, and stale air settled over me, like he hadn’t cracked a window or changed up his displays in the past twenty years. Undeterred, I forged ahead. My first goal was to convince him he needed me more than I needed him.

“When’s the last time you vacuumed in here?” I wrinkled my nose as I set my travel mug down on the counter. The hot pink glittery tumbler couldn’t look more out of place.

Harlan ignored me.

I walked around, taking in the neglected, stagnant vibe he had going on.

This was going to be more work than I anticipated.

There was nothing welcoming or inviting at all.

The utilitarian setup fostered a sense of getting in and getting out as quickly as possible instead of encouraging browsing.

I was going to have my work cut out for me.

“We should probably start by redoing the window displays,” I said.

On the left, a mannequin in neon orange stood like it was guarding the door, layered in three different types of camo, none of them matching.

The tag dangling from the jacket zipper had curled at the edges, the ink so faded I had to squint to read it.

A fishing net hung behind it, tangled with a sun-bleached poster of a guy who looked like he’d just walked off the set of a 2004 Bass Pro catalog shoot.

The display on the right was even worse. A half-collapsed tent sat under a mounted elk rack so massive it blocked the view of anything else. Next to it, a vintage camp stove provided a backdrop for a stack of lanterns and a “Don’t Touch the Gear” sign scrawled in black marker.

“There’s nothing wrong with those displays.” He moved behind the counter and opened up the register.

“Nothing wrong?” My laugh came out sharp and dismissive. “They look like scenes that should be set in a museum of stuff your great grandpa might have used.”

Harlan glanced up, his brows knit together in annoyance. “Good. Shows the gear I sell is meant to last a lifetime.”

“So are dentures, but you wouldn’t put those in the front window to draw in customers.” The man was infuriating, though I should know better than to expect anything different. He’d always been that way. “Have you ever heard of merchandising?”

“My customers come in for the real thing. They don’t need to be pulled in by jazzy displays and shit.”

“Jazzy displays?” I rolled my eyes. “That’s not what I’m talking about. And since when do you use words like ‘jazzy’ to describe anything?”

He crossed his arms, drawing my attention to his broad chest. Standing there in a checkered flannel shirt rolled up to the elbows, wearing a pair of jeans that sat low on his hips, with a bushy beard and a jaw carved out of granite, he looked every bit the grumpy, stubborn mountain man.

“I don’t need your help.” His words came out more like a multi-syllable grunt than English.

“You might not want it, but if your goal is to stay in business, you sure as hell need it. What are you going to do if Wild Wilderness sets up shop? They’ll run you out of business faster than you can chase off someone who parks too close to your precious motorcycle.

” I crossed my arms and copied his stance, expecting him to double down.

“And you think you’ve got what it takes to come up with a plan?” He put his hands on the counter and leaned forward.

Sensing a crack in his armor, I took my shot. “I’m not saying I have all the answers, but I’m the best chance you’ve got. Give me a month. If your sales don’t increase by fifty percent, you don’t even have to pay me.”

“Fifty percent?” One of his dark eyebrows shot up. “That’s a mighty high goal for a little girl who’s fresh out of college with no real experience.”

If he wanted to get me even more riled up, calling me a little girl was a good way to do it. But I also didn’t want him to know he was getting to me. That’s how it had always been with Harlan. He’d push my buttons, and I’d push right back.

“In case you haven’t noticed,”—I cocked a hip and clamped a hand down on my waist—“I’m not so little anymore. And unless you’ve ventured outside of Hard Timber in the last twenty years, I’ve also had a whole lot more exposure to what’s happening in the real world.”

His pupils flared, exactly the kind of reaction I was going for.

He opened his mouth to fire back, but immediately shut it.

Then he clasped his hands together behind his neck and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling.

I followed his gaze, noting someone really needed to dust the beams that stretched above us before a customer got attacked by a falling cloud of cobwebs.

“Fine.” His voice came out so soft and low, I was sure I’d imagined it. He didn’t look at me, just kept his gaze trained on a discolored spot above him. Probably a leak that no one had looked at in years.

“What?”

“I said ‘fine.’ If you want to spend the last month of summer toiling away for no pay, I won’t stop you.”

Wait… no pay? “I didn’t say I’d work for free. I said if your sales don’t increase by fifty percent, then you don’t have to pay me.”

“Right.” He let his arms fall to his sides and gave me a smug smile. “So I may as well not even start paying you since there’s no way you’ll be able to do that. I sure am going to enjoy watching you try, though.”

Fueled by a desperate desire to make him finally see me as more than his best friends’ annoying little sister, I thrust out my hand.

“You’ve got a deal. I’ll work for free for a solid month if you agree to do whatever I think needs to be done.

But after I increase your sales and run off the big bad retailer who’s threatening you, I’m going to want full back pay, plus ten percent of the profits. ”

“Okay,” he said as he slowly reached out to take my hand in his. “That’s some pretty big talk for such a little girl.”

“Stop calling me that,” I said, my jaw clenched tight. As his huge man paw wrapped around my fingers, the tension between us crackled.

“I could call you Firecracker, instead,” he offered.

I jerked my hand out of his grasp. He knew I hated that nickname. “If that’s what you want to do. Fair’s fair, though. You start calling me Firecracker, and I’ll have to start calling you Boulder again.”

His smile faded. “Just stay out of my way and everything will be good. One month starts today.”

I glanced at the calendar on the wall behind him, the one featuring a picture of a guy in waders standing in the middle of a wide river with a fishing pole in his hand.

The days and dates didn’t match up. Then I looked at the date and realized it was from two years ago.

That was just like Harlan. He might be able to move through the forest without making a sound, but the man had no awareness of what it would take to bring his store into the current decade.

“I’ve got my work cut out for me. May as well get started.” I moved behind the counter and set down my bag.

Harlan stepped back like he was afraid I’d infect him with positive vibes if I got too close. Proving him wrong was going to be so rewarding.

With step one of my plan set in motion, it was time to get started on step two.

I’d come up with the idea last night, right after I’d finally accepted the fact that working with Harlan was the best way to add experience to my pathetic resume.

He wasn’t going to go for it right away, but it was a key piece to re-establishing Big Package Outfitters as the place to go for anything and everything related to the great outdoors.

“Before I revamp the displays and figure out which new products to bring in, I need to talk to you about something.” I grabbed my water bottle and took a long sip while Harlan finished putting change in the register.

“You want to quit already?” He sounded hopeful.

I ignored the comment and pressed on. “We need to do something bigger than give the store a makeover.”

He slammed the register door closed and turned around. “And I bet you have the perfect idea for that.”

“Lucky for you, I do. We’re going to host an Adventure Weekend. Customers can try out equipment before they buy it. We’ll have different events like wilderness hikes, product demos, and maybe even a group kayak down the river.” The more I thought about it, the surer I became about the concept.

But Harlan shot me down with a smirk. “No way. I’m not going to have you turn this place into a three-ring circus.”

“It won’t be a circus, and it’s exactly the kind of event we need to re-launch the store and get the town behind you. Right now everyone thinks about it as a convenient place to drop in real quick and pick up what they need, not a destination where they want to hang out and browse.”

“That’s because it is a convenient place to pick up what they need.

I don’t want a bunch of people hanging around here all day.

I get them in and out and on their way.” He scowled at me like I’d asked him to bring in all of his buddies to put on a male revue.

Which, actually, might be a good idea if his two best friends weren’t my brothers.

I tapped my toe and crossed my arms. “And that right there is your fatal flaw, or at least the biggest one I can see.”

“How can a person have more than one fatal flaw, Jessa?” He practically growled my name. In my time away, I’d forgotten how much of a thrill it gave me to set him off.

“Adventure weekend is on. You gave me the right to do whatever I think is necessary, remember?” It was almost a sin how much pleasure I took from making him angry. Now I needed to deliver. If I didn’t, both of us were going to be screwed.