Page 1 of Soul of the Mountain (Curves in Hope Mountain #2)

SULLIVAN

T he rich smell of coffee fills the air, joined by the familiar drip-drip-dripping of the coffee maker.

Every morning starts the same: a hot cup of coffee, reading the headlines of the Hope Mountain Gazette, and taking in the beauty of nature.

It’s easy to do when I own a gorgeous piece of land with a giant house and a wrap-around porch.

I inherited this place from my grandparents, who turned the mansion into a rest stop of sorts. Not quite a hotel, not quite a bed-and-breakfast. More of a come-as-you-please, shared-kitchen-and-dining-room vibe.

Fifty years after it opened, Willow Tree Inn remains one of the few places for the rare out-of-towner to stay in Hope Mountain. I live and work here, and I’m thankful every day for my little place in the world. It’s not exciting to most, but it’s fulfilling.

This small mountain town is secluded up in the Colorado Rockies, and we like it that way. Unfortunately, we got on the radar of a real estate company in Denver. They’ve been harassing a lot of us local business owners to sell, even bribing and threatening a few.

I breathe in deeply and exhale my frustration.

There’s nothing I can do about it right now, and besides, I have a lot of cleaning up to do around the yard.

I take another deep breath and look out the kitchen window, noting the debris from the storm and flash flood yesterday.

It came out of nowhere and washed out the only road down the mountain.

A door creaks open down the hall, followed by the sound of feet shuffling across the hardwood floor. It must be Gabby, the only guest currently staying at Willow Tree Inn.

Speaking of an unexpected turn of events…

I groan internally and roll my eyes. The woman works for Top Spot Realty, the very same company trying to take over the town. She came up here to collect her co-worker, Sadie, who got lost and was stranded up the mountain.

The two of them were on their way out of town when they were caught in the flood.

Damn near washed the car right off the side of the mountain.

If my buddy, Cutter, and I weren’t there, Sadie and Gabby might have been casualties of Mother Nature’s wrath.

You’d think a heroic save like that would earn me some respect, or at the very least, gratitude, from Gabby.

Especially since I offered her a room at my inn after Cutter took Sadie back to his place.

“Where’s the hairdryer?” the woman in question asks as she steps into the kitchen.

I turn to face her, trying not to notice the way her white terrycloth robe drapes over her generous breasts and wide, juicy hips. Every room has the same standard robe, and it’s objectively not sexy. On this curvy woman, however…

“Hello? Hairdryer?” She snaps her fingers at me like I’m a dog, which immediately puts me on edge. She’s just as cold and clipped as she was yesterday.

The lust clears from my mind at her sharp, annoyed tone. Gabby might be stunning with her dark hair, wide hazel eyes, and rounded cheeks that make her look like a goddamn doll, but her attitude is enough to reel in the inappropriate thoughts.

“Don’t have one,” I grunt, crossing my arms over my chest as I stare down at her. Gabby narrows her eyes at me and clenches her jaw. God, she’s wound up so tight, like she’s gearing up for a fight with every interaction.

“Every hotel has hairdryers in the rooms.”

“Willow Tree Inn isn’t a cookie-cutter hotel,” I inform her. “It’s a fixture in this community and has been since my grandparents opened it in the seventies.”

“Well… Well, that’s no excuse. Fixture or not, guests have wet hair and need a way to dry it.” She finishes her statement by crossing her arms over her chest, mirroring my stance.

“If it’s that essential, why don’t you carry one with you all the time?”

“I usually do,” she answers, surprising me.

“I have three changes of clothes, casual and dress shoes, a hairbrush, hair ties, toothpaste and a toothbrush, water bottles, non-perishable snacks, and… and some other stuff. I keep everything I need in my car,” Gabby finishes.

“Of course, the one time I loan my spare hairdryer to a co-worker, this happens,” she mutters under her breath.

“Can’t plan for everything, I guess.” I remember going back in the car for a bag Gabby insisted she needed. I didn’t realize it was filled with clothes; otherwise, I wouldn’t have risked it. City girl, through and through. She can’t even go a day without her high-class stuff.

“I can try.” A hint of insecurity flashes in her multi-colored eyes, but it’s gone before I’m even sure I saw it. So, she likes to be in control. That checks out.

“You know, hair dries all on its own, without the need for a fancy contraption to do it for you.”

“ Fancy contraption ? Is this the eighteen hundreds? It’s a hairdryer. I know this town is small and a bit outdated, but surely, you’ve seen hairdryers before.”

I stare her down, my nostrils flaring at her insult of my hometown.

I know she doesn’t care about Hope Mountain, but she’s lashing out unnecessarily.

I don’t dignify her insult with a response, which has its intended effect.

Gabby huffs out a frustrated breath and spins on her heel, stomping down the hallway she came from.

God, that woman. She’s been nothing but a thorn in my side since I pulled her out of her flooded car.

As soon as Cutter and Sadie left yesterday, Gabby scrambled out of my arms and could barely look at me.

She didn’t want the dinner I offered; she just headed straight to her room and slammed the door shut.

She’ll be gone soon enough. I called the local mechanic and had her car towed once the road cleared last night. I’m expecting her to be on her way to Denver by the end of the day.

A few hours later, I’m heading back inside after spending a few hours cleaning up around the property. Luckily, there wasn’t any major damage done to the exterior, mostly superficial things that I can fix easily over the next few days.

I take off my jacket and run a hand through my short hair before checking my watch. I should get going if I want to stop by the bakery on the way to visit Mabel.

When I step into the main living room of the inn, I’m surprised to see Gabby bent over her phone, frowning at the screen. “Where is the stupid… erg, what the heck? Where is Grady’s Garage? Why isn’t it showing up? Frickin’ small town has no Yelp reviews for any business. How does that even happen?”

I’d be lying if I said her frustration didn’t give me a shot of schadenfreude. Does that make me petty? Maybe a little.

Ultimately, my small-town manners shine through.

After my mom skipped out, my grandparents raised me.

My gran taught me to be welcoming to all our guests, and people as a whole.

We don’t know their stories or what they’re dealing with.

Everyone deserves a little grace. Even Gabby. Theoretically, at least.

“Need a ride to your car?” I ask, guessing what the issue is.

“No,” comes her clipped response. “I can handle it.”

“I don’t think you’re going to find anything on Yelp.”

Gabby jerks her head up, searing me with a look that shouldn’t make me want to kiss her. That storm brewing just beneath the surface should turn me off. Instead, I get the insane urge to calm the raging waves of emotions she tries so hard to control.

“Yes, I gathered that. Grady’s must have a website or something. You said you had my car towed to Grady’s Garage, right? I can’t find any phone numbers or an address.”

I smirk at her response. “Grady’s garage isn’t exactly an official auto shop. Grady is a whiz with cars, motorcycles, semis, and basically anything with an engine. He takes on projects for people around town and works out of his garage at home. Hence the name.”

“Grady’s garage,” Gabby says, finishing the thought.

“Great. My car is with some guy named Grady. Wonderful. Very helpful. Thank you,” she says sarcastically.

“Does he even have access to the right tools to fix it? My dashboard is all electric, you know. And the rearview mirror cam was installed just a few months ago.”

“Yes, Grady has the skills and tools to get any job done. Though, most folks around here don’t need a supercomputer for a car. A truck does just fine.”

“It’s not as safe,” she immediately replies.

I roll my eyes. “Your designer technology didn’t save you from driving through a flood,” I scoff.

She stares at me with an unreadable look.

“That was user error,” she finally says.

The woman clears her throat and digs around in her purse, producing a credit card.

She shoves it in my direction without giving me another glance.

“You want to be helpful? Charge the room to this card while I figure out where you abandoned my car yesterday.”

I grab the card and shake my head at her entitlement. “You’re welcome for saving you,” I mutter under my breath.

Gabby’s face turns white, and for a second, I swear I see tears in her eyes.

Her demeanor changes for a fraction of a moment, and something close to embarrassment, fear, or maybe even shame flickers across her features.

My stomach churns at the thought of making this woman cry, however infuriating she might be.

I’m about to apologize, but she turns her back to me and concentrates once again on her phone. It’s just as well. I head to the front desk and run her card, noting it’s a company credit card, paid for by Top Spot Realty. As if I need another reminder of the enemy’s presence in my home.

A shadow falls over the keyboard, and I look up from the computer screen. Gabby is standing there, presumably waiting for her card. I hand it to her, only instead of taking it, she surprises the hell out of me by resting her hand on mine.

“There aren’t many times in my life when I required… assistance .” She says the word as if it’s repulsive to even think about. “So, thank you for being there when I…” Gabby falters as she searches for the right thing to say. “When I needed someone.”

She drops her hand from mine and crosses her arms over her chest. No, that’s not accurate.

Gabby wraps her arms around her torso, almost like she’s protecting herself from something.

I can tell it cost her a lot to admit she needed anything from anyone, which explains her resistance to my offer of a ride.

Once again, I see a sliver of the woman behind the clipped words and judgmental remarks.

“That’s what we do around here,” I tell her, trying to lighten the mood. “We look out for each other and help when and where we can. Speaking of, do you need a ride to your car?”

Gabby lets out an exasperated sigh and places her hands on her hips. The mask is firmly back in place, but I know what I saw. She’s more complicated than I originally thought, and as much as I don’t want to, I find her… interesting. Damn it.

“Fine. Will you please give me a ride to Grady’s unofficial garage?”

I smirk at her response. “Of course. But I have a few errands to run first.” I’m expecting her to protest, but she gives me a too-sweet smile.

“Perfect. Maybe you can get a hairdryer while we’re out.” With that, she turns around and gathers her sparse belongings.

Fuck if my dick didn’t twitch at her sassy remark.