Page 9 of Summer with the Mountain Man (Mountain Man Summer #16)

Chapter Nine

Riley

Standing on the Whitmores’ front porch, I gnaw at my bottom lip. The sun is ablaze, sitting low in the western sky, its intensity shrouded in a smokey haze.

Dusk is settling in. Birdsongs I don’t recognize waft on the hot air.

I’d watched the smoke billowing into the sky throughout the afternoon, picturing Luca fighting the fire, worrying about him even as I kept telling myself he’s going to be okay. This is what he does.

Sometime before four, as my friend the lizard lazily wandered up onto the porch to scale the railing and regard me with its trademark indifference, the smoke stopped rising, leaving only the haze.

Relief had swept through me.

Firefighters: 1. Fire: 0.

I hope.

It’s been two hours since then. Two hours without Luca returning. Two hours of hoping he’s okay. Of telling myself he is. Two hours of pacing the porch, the house, the porch again. Replaying every minute of him being in my life, from when he first arrived to when he left.

Reliving those minutes made me all too aware that I’ve never felt more connected to someone.

It’s not possible to fall in love with someone so quickly, but I’m doing a damn good job of trying. And that, in itself, is the problem. Losing my heart so quickly after it’s just taken a beating from Hugh?

I questioned my sanity as Luca was leaving for the fire, and I’m questioning it now.

But no matter how many times I tell myself I’m reading it all wrong, that I’m not in love, and Luca isn’t interested in me for more than just sex—wild, amazing, soul-searing sex—his question keeps whispering through my fraying mind: Spend the rest of your life with me?

I cast a look at the lizard pancaking in the late sun on the railing that’s a few feet away. “Was he serious?”

The lizard ignores me.

I snort. “Yeah, it’s a stupid question. I’m an idiot. Right?”

Nothing from the lizard.

“You’re not really helping me, little dude,” I complain, smiling at my own woefulness.

What do I do? Wait for Luca to come back and then tell him how I feel? Or when he comes back, do I pretend it was just a one-night—well, one-morning stand? If he comes back?

Oh God, I’m spiraling.

Somewhere in the bush, a kookaburra laughs, and I puff out a sigh. Seems this whole country is enjoying my confusion.

The unmistakable burr of a chainsaw rises up from down the hill, and my heart slams up into my throat. Is it Luca? He mentioned the fallen tree before he went to the fire. How did he get past it? Drive around it? Over it? Is it him cutting up the tree now?

Hurrying back inside, I yank on my sneakers, give my hair a quick comb with my fingers, check my breath in my palm—still toothpasty fresh—and head down the driveway.

Rounding a bend, I see the gum tree lying across the driveway. Its broken, twisted roots reach into the air, dirt clinging to them. A tall man with broad shoulders and lean hips wields the chainsaw, cutting into the wood, his back bunching against the strain.

I quicken my stride, a smile stretching my lips before I can rein it in. I’m going to tell him. Screw it. A life lived in fear is a life half lived. That’s a quote from something, a movie, maybe? I can’t remember, but it’s true.

“Luca,” I call when the roar from the chainsaw falls silent. I reach out to touch his back, and he turns.

“G’day,” a middle-aged man says, wiping at his forehead with the back of his gloved hand.

Sweat drips from his weathered face. “You must be the American.” He removes his glove with his teeth and shoves his hand out to me.

“I’m Baz Lundgren, the Ridge’s arborist. Luca Cormack sent me up here to clear the driveway for you.

Said you probably didn’t want to be stuck in the mayor’s house forever. ”

Luca Cormack sent me…

A prickling cold crawls over my skin. Sinks into my chest.

Luca didn’t come back. He stayed away. From me.

“Hi,” I say, taking Baz’s hand. I feel like I’m talking through a funnel. My voice sounds fuzzy, far away. Oh God, Luca didn’t come back. I lost my heart to a man, and he didn’t come back.

Of course he didn’t. No one falls in love in less than a day. Only idiots do that.

Baz frowns as I drop his hand. “You okay? You look like you’re going to pass out.” He flicks his frown at the sky. “It’s bloody hot today, and the sun’s being a real bastard.”

“I’m okay,” I reply, forcing a smile to my face. Where did the smile go I couldn’t contain earlier? Oh, that’s right. It vanished along with my pride and heart. “Can I get you some water?”

“Yeah, nah.” He shakes his head and tugs his glove back on. “I’ll be done soon, and then you can get out. Give me another fifteen, if that’s okay?”

“That’s fine.” How am I even speaking? I feel like I’m being suffocated in a blanket of hot cotton wool. “Thank you.” I turn and head back up the path, the wail of the chainsaw following me.

The lizard watches me climb the front steps. I ignore it.

I open the door, and cool inside air slips around my hot face and limbs just as my phone vibrates in the pocket of my shorts.

Without stepping inside, I snatch the phone out and stare at the text on the screen, my throat squeezing shut.

Hugh

I miss you, Riley. I’m sorry. Please call me. I want you in my life. Somehow. I’m sure we can make it work.

I burst out laughing.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. I really am an idiot.

The one man I want nothing to do with anymore is crawling after me, and the man I want everything to do with has already passed me off.

I turn to the lizard. “I’m going home, little dude. Back to Minnesota. To hell with relationships. Take it from me, they just aren’t worth it.”