The Mighty Quinns: Eli (4 page)

She waved back and he turned and headed across the meadow toward the trailhead. Eli looked over his shoulder once and found her still watching him from the porch, her arms wrapped around the post, her hair tossed by the breeze. Riley sat at her feet, his head resting on his paws.

Eli tried to forget her the moment she was out of sight. But instead, she plagued his thoughts for the entire hike down the mountain, then the ride back into town and through the rest of his night. He'd almost convinced himself that it was simple worry that kept her on his mind. After all, she was a vulnerable young woman, alone in the wilderness with no one to protect her. He couldn't just leave her to fend for herself.

But when his dreams turned into scorching sexual fantasies of naked limbs entwined and wild sensations racing through his body, Eli knew protecting Lucy wasn't the only reason he wanted to go back to the cabin.

 

2

June

L
UCY
TICKED
OFF
the days on her calendar as the first of June approached. Though she'd tried to tell herself that it would be Annalise checking in, she held out hope that it would be Eli instead.

She couldn't help but feel guilty over the attraction that had consumed her for the past month. After all, this whole experience was about finding the strength in being a woman. But instead the only thing she could think about was Eli Montgomery. He was just so...handsome and charming. And dangerous.

He was exactly the kind of man who could lure a woman into an affair without a second thought to what she might be giving up for him. The problem was, the more time Lucy spent alone, the more she seemed to dwell on sex.

It wasn't just a nagging desire that came and went. She seemed to be obsessed with thoughts of raging passion and unfulfilled need, quite unusual for her. And the male subject in every one of these fantasies just happened to be Eli Montgomery, mysterious mountain man and destroyer of feminist ideals. It was a problem she'd never anticipated.

She'd been pacing the cabin for most of the morning, busying herself with bread-making and an attempt to make a vegan mac and cheese. After two months in the wild, she'd added dairy products to her list of things she'd begun to crave.

She opened the oven to check on the bread, then realized that she'd left it in too long. “Damn,” she muttered, grabbing a dishtowel and a potholder. Gauging the temperature of her wood-burning oven was an art that she'd not yet mastered.

She pulled the two pans out, setting the first on top of the stove and searching for an empty spot on the counter for the second. But the heat of the pan seeped through the towel and she screamed as she dropped it on the floor, the loaf tumbling out of the pan to land in front of a pair of well-worn hiking boots.

Lucy glanced up to see Eli watching her through the screen door. Either he'd left before sunrise or he'd run up the mountainside. It was barely ten and she looked as if she'd just crawled out of bed.

He opened the door and stepped inside, then bent down and grabbed the loaf of bread. “I think you dropped this,” he murmured, his gaze slowly drifting down to her mouth.

Lucy groaned inwardly. So he'd come back. Had it been his choice or had Annalise had another conflict in her schedule?

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing the bread with the towel, then slowly straightening. She was dressed in a faded T-shirt and nothing else. Thankfully, the T-shirt nearly reached her knees. “You're early.”

“I figured you might need a hand with a few things, so I gave myself some extra time to help you.”

She shook her head. “I can't—”

“I know, I know. But I thought maybe after two months on your own, you might have changed your mind.”

“Nope,” she said. “I haven't changed my mind.”

He grinned, then turned and grabbed his pack from just outside the front door. He pulled a thermos from the side pocket and held it out to her. “Then you probably don't want this, either.”

Lucy regarded the stainless-steel container suspiciously. “What's that?”

“Caramel latte. Triple shot, I believe. Still hot. As I recall, you requested it the last time I was here. I'm just following orders.”

Lucy smiled. She
had
told him that she'd been craving her favorite coffee drink. And she'd also promised a kiss in exchange. But she'd just been joking.

“Maybe there's a rule against drinking it, though,” he said. “If there is, I'll just dump it.”

She reached for it, then drew her hand back when she recalled her promise. “And what do you expect in return?”

“I believe you promised a kiss.” He handed her the thermos. “But since it's my job to look after you, I won't demand payment.” He paused. “Yet.”

She wanted to kiss him. It was all she'd been thinking about for the past month. Maybe getting it over with would satisfy her hormones and allow her to move on. So why not just go for it? What did she have to lose? He'd be leaving again in a few hours, and at least she'd have some real-world experience to add to her fantasies.

Lucy took the thermos from his hand and smiled. She stepped up to him, wrapped her hand around his nape and gave him a sweet, slow kiss. But then he slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her closer, and a tiny cry of surprise burst from between her lips.

The moment he touched her, the tenuous hold on her self-control vanished. He deepened the kiss, his tongue gently tasting until her body melted into his. Lucy thought the kiss would go on forever, but then he loosened his hold and she stumbled back.

When she met his gaze again, he was smiling at her. “Judging by that kiss, I'd assume there was a major rewrite on those guidelines of yours within the last month.”

“I was...just paying a debt,” she said. “For the coffee?”

“Wait till you see what else I have in my pack, then,” he said.

“Why don't you unpack it on the porch?” she suggested. “I'll be out in a few minutes.”

When he'd closed the door behind him, Lucy walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. She touched her lips, still damp from his kiss, then flopped back and stared up at the ceiling.

She'd accepted this project because she'd been intrigued by the challenge, at least that's what she'd said whenever she was asked or interviewed. But it was also a way to live an entire year in one place.

She couldn't remember the last time that had happened. Her childhood had been spent in a series of foster homes, none of which she'd stayed in longer than six months. At fourteen, she'd run away from a bad foster family and ended up on the streets. She'd managed to survive there for two years before she'd gotten a job and started bringing in a paycheck. After that she'd bounced from one cheap room to another.

Sometimes, she'd slept on friends' couches or took a house-sitting job. Then, when she'd gotten a full-time gig with a production company, she was often on location. But here, on the mountain, she had a chance to live in a home, rugged as it might be.

Working in television and movie production had always been a perfect job for her. She'd enjoyed the shifting scenery, a new location every few months. But the past year or two, she'd started to wonder if her lifestyle was keeping her from finding contentment in her life.

The cabin wasn't just a home. It was place for her to settle. She'd hoped that a year on her own, alone in the wilderness, might give her time to figure out her future. Who was she? Where did she belong? Was this the only life she was destined to live or was there something else waiting for her?

Lucy thought she'd have at least a few answers by now. But the longer she stayed on the mountain, the more confused she became. The only thing she knew for sure, at this very moment, was that she wanted to spend the day enjoying the company of Eli Montgomery. They had the next five hours together and she was going to make the most of them.

Lucy crawled off the bed and quickly dressed, then found her brush and pulled it through her tangled hair. She hadn't had a real bath or a shower since the day before she arrived at the cabin, but she'd scrubbed herself clean last night with a bar of homemade soap and six pots of water she'd heated on the stove.

When she opened the door again, she found Eli sitting on the top step, petting Riley. She grabbed a couple enamel coffee mugs and sat down next to him, then poured out the contents of the thermos he'd brought. The scents of caramel and coffee wafted in the morning air and she groaned softly. “You were very sweet to remember,” she said after taking a slow sip.

“I was just interested in that kiss,” he said.

She clasped her hands around the mug. “I was really expecting your mother this time. Was she busy again?”

“No, I wanted to come. I thought I should check up on your shooting. And bring you coffee.”

“I'm glad you came. I mean, it would have been fine if Annalise had come. She's just amazing and—”

“Amazing and insane,” he murmured.

“Why would you say that?”

“She's been dating this real estate developer, whom she hated until recently, and she's acting like a lovesick teenager. I told her to seek professional help. She said I could use a father figure in my life.”

“Where is your father, if that's not too personal of a question?” she asked.

Eli shrugged. “I never knew him. My mother raised me on her own. I found out who he was when I was fifteen, but by that time it was too late.”

“Too late?”

“He'd died in a climbing accident several years before. On Mount Everest. He left behind a loving wife and four legitimate children—and me. I was the result of a brief fling he had with my mother in a tent during some climbing expedition.”

“And you never met him?”

“Once, apparently. My mother claims that she took me to New Zealand when I was six and I met him then. I don't remember it, though. It's always been just me and Annalise. And Trudie. And my grandfather, Buck.”

“That's a family,” she said. “That's a pretty big family, by my standards.”

“What about you?”

“I had a happy childhood,” she lied. “Nothing extraordinary. My parents are still married, living in Seattle. My dad works for the post office and my mom is a teacher. I'm an only child.”

It was a complete and utter fabrication, but she'd told the story so many times that it sounded true. It was just detailed enough that it didn't cause additional questions and just vague enough that it was instantly forgettable.

“How did you end up here, in the middle of nowhere, building a log cabin with your bare hands?”

“I was sixteen and wandering around the streets of Seattle during the summer, bored with my life, and came across a production company. They were filming a movie and I asked if they might have a job for me, and they did. I was an outstanding coffee fetcher. After that, I was hooked. I worked a few more local productions and built up a decent résumé. When I graduated from high school, I took a bus to LA and found better work. I went to college when I could, and I've been on some kind of TV or movie production set ever since. I pitched this series after I reread one of your grandmother's books. The producers asked if I wanted to be in front of the camera and I said yes.”

It was a simple enough explanation and one she'd given to almost everyone she'd met over the course of the past year. This part of the story was entirely true, though she'd left out a few major details. But the real truth would probably come out when the show was broadcast. Someone would recognize her and reveal the truth about her past.

The world would find out that her father had gone to prison when she was seven and her mother had died of a drug overdose when she was five. They'd know about the foster homes and the constant running away, living on the streets when she was fourteen and searching for any way to make a few dollars to feed herself. She'd been one of the lucky ones. She'd been smart and resourceful. And she'd always been a credible liar.

“So you came here because of Trudie?”

“Yeah. She was such a strong woman and wanted to experience life on her own terms, stripped down, simple. I remember reading her book about building the cabin and how she lived off the grid. I was always fascinated by that concept of creating a life for yourself out of nothing but your own two hands.”

“I wish you could have met her.”

“Me, too. But you can tell me about her.” She took another sip of her coffee. “Now that you've finished interrogating me, why don't you show me what you brought?”

Eli turned to his pack and the first thing he pulled out was a pair of deerskin gloves. He held them out to her. “These should fit a bit better than what you've been wearing. You won't get so many blisters.”

She stared down at the gloves and a flood of emotion washed over her—he'd remembered. For the first time in her life, she felt as if someone was listening to her. He'd done her a great kindness. That kind of thing rarely happened in her life. And now, he'd done it twice—first, the coffee and now the gloves.

Was this the beginning of a friendship...or a passionate affair? Lucy wasn't sure which one she wanted more, but she had no idea how to handle either.

* * *

“T
ELL
ME
EVERYTHING
you know about bears.”

“Why are you so obsessed with bears?” Lucy asked.

“Because they are an always-present danger up here once the snow melts. If it were winter, I'd be obsessed with hypothermia.”

They walked through the meadow together toward the tree line, their rifles slung over their shoulders, Riley trotting beside them. Eli had decided that if she wouldn't take advice about cabin building and food foraging, he was going to make damn sure she kept herself safe. And for the next couple of months, the biggest threat in this part of the mountains was the bears.

“I know to carry my gun at all times. I've been practicing on the targets almost every day. I know that I'll probably only have time for one shot and if it's not good, the bear will probably eat me for dinner. Avoidance is the best strategy.”

“Excellent. Anything else?”

“Keep Riley and all food locked up in the cabin when I'm not around. Hungry bears are dangerous. Mother bears with their cubs are the most dangerous. Black bears are usually afraid of humans, grizzlies are more aggressive.”

“And what if a bear does charge?” he asked.

“With a grizzly, you drop to the ground and curl up and protect your neck and head. Basically play dead. With a black bear, you run or fight back as hard as you can. You make noise, throw rocks, hit him with sticks.”

He nodded. “All right. There's not much chance you'll run into a grizzly around here. They range farther north. But I will give you this.” He pulled a can out of his pocket. “Bear pepper spray. A temporarily blinded bear is much better than a wounded bear.” He reached down and clipped it to her jeans. “If you can't get a shot off or if you just wound him, use the spray and run like hell.”