I’ve been on the road for almost twelve hours, and with every mile I drive, I feel lighter. Freer. But that doesn’t stop my stomach from churning with nerves the closer I get to my destination. I must be nuts, I think to myself for the thousandth time today. I’ve never even been to Colorado before, but it’s about to become my new home. I’m not sure why I chose the mountains for a fresh start, but I guess after spending a lifetime in Oklahoma City, I’m craving something different—some wild and secluded place up in the Rockies. But most importantly, I need to live somewhere far away from my parents. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel as I imagine them back in Oklahoma. They’ll both be home from work by now, and they’ll have seen the goodbye note I left for them. I didn’t bother trying to explain; the note simply says that I’m leaving and never coming back. They’re probably trying to call me, ready to yell until their voices are hoarse, but I changed my phone number last week, ditched social media, and made a new email account. I don’t want them to have any way to contact me. It might sound pretty drastic, running away from home to live in a cabin in the mountains, but I had to escape. My parents have been treating me like crap for as long as I can remember. They never wanted kids;I was an accident, and from the day I was born, my parents have seen me as nothing but a burden. An inconvenience. They constantly put me down, criticizing everything about me, from my curvy figure to my dream of becoming an author. Growing up, I was treated more like a servant than a daughter. They told me I had to earn my place in their home, so I ended up doing everything for them. It was pretty hard to juggle all the cooking, cleaning, laundry and yard work on top of going to school, but I didn’t have a choice. I thought things would get better when I finally managed to move out last year, but it was almost like my parents missed having me around to bully. They never gave me a minute of peace, constantly calling and texting to tell me what a terrible daughter I was to leave them. In reality, they just hated having to do their own housework for a change. For months, they used any excuse to barge into my apartment at all hours just to call me a slob and tell me the place wasn’t clean enough, or otherwise demand I come home with them and fix dinner. Once upon a time, I was too scared to stand up to my parents. I genuinely believed they’d kick me out if I didn’t do what I was told, and I decided that anything was better than being homeless as a young girl. But I’m not a child anymore, I’m a twenty-two-year-old woman now, and I’m ready to escape the shadow my parents are casting over my life. That’s why I finally told my landlord I was leaving, quit my retail job, and packed up my belongings. Oklahoma City is far behind me, and I’m never looking back. The landscape outside the car windows is turning wilder by the minute. I gasp as snow-capped mountains begin to rise up all around me, thick forests stretching out in every direction. It’s like a fairy tale—the vivid blue lakes and streams, the crashing waterfalls, the rugged mountain rock. I’ve never traveled outside of Oklahoma City before, and my jaw is practically in my lap as I stare around at the gorgeous landscape, my heart fluttering with excitement. This beautiful place is my new home. Finally, I reach a quaint mountain town called Winterdale, grinning at all the cozy boutiques and independent stores. I follow the directions on my phone, turning up a steep track just outside the town. The road winds up and up, twisting all around. A few minutes later, I spot the cabin. “Oh!” I gasp. Before today, I’ve only ever seen photos of it, but it looks even prettier in person. The tiny log cabin is surrounded by trees, and the front yard is blooming with yellow daffodils. I was able to book it cheap since it’s such a small place, but it’s big enough for me, and it’s so darn cute. The cabin had plenty of availability, so I was able to book it for three months straight, and as I pull up in front of my temporary new home, I sigh with relief before turning off the car engine and getting out. The air smells so fresh up here, like pine and earth, and I inhale deeply, feeling a sudden well of emotion behind my eyes. I can’t believe I finally did it. For the first time in my life, I’m free. No more cruel words or being treated like a servant—I can finally build my own life away from my parents, and even though starting over is pretty scary, I know that it has to be better than what I’m leaving behind. I just hope three months will be enough time for me to find a job and another place to stay. The key to the cabin is in the lockbox where the landlord said it would be, and my hand shakes slightly as I open the front door and step inside. “Wow…” I breathe as I take it all in. The living room is all wooden, with crisscrossing exposed beams, a large stone fireplace, and a comfylooking sofa. There’s a big TV on the wall, and the owner has left a plate of cookies on the table with a note telling me to enjoy my stay. I can’t stop smiling as I peek into the small, rustic kitchen and then the bedroom and bathroom. It might be tiny, but it’s cozy and homely, and I’m still beaming to myself a little while later once I’ve brought all my stuff into the cabin and unpacked.“This is going to be great,” I tell myself brightly, biting into one of the deliciously gooey cookies. “I can do this…I’m a capable, independent woman. I’ve got this.” But now that I’ve arrived, there’s a knot of anxiety forming in my stomach. It all feels so real now, and the weight of everything I’ve done is bearing down on me. I quit my job, left my apartment, my city, my parents, everything I’ve ever known… What if I can’t do this? What if my parents are right about me? I try to shake off the thought as I leave the cabin, heading purposefully into the woods. I’m going to explore…take my mind off things…if anything can make me feel better, it’s this gorgeous scenery. There’s an earthy track that winds through the trees, and I follow it, listening to the twittering of birds overhead. I’ve only been walking a few minutes when I stop in my tracks. Something is watching me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I whip around, peering through the trees and bushes. There’s nobody there—nothing—but I could swear I felt eyes on me… Tentatively, I take another step forward, then another. Nothing around me stirs, and convinced I was imagining things, I take a deep breath and keep on walking. Springy green moss covers the ground, and tiny shoots are beginning to burst through the earth, making me smile as I walk. Spring is the perfect time for new beginnings. I can do this. I can. I can build the life of my dreams and prove my parents wrong. I’m determined to make this work… Crack. I whirl around. My heart thuds against my chest. I’m sure I heard something—a footstep, somebody stepping on a branch. And there’s that feeling again…the prickling on my skin… As if somebody’s watching me.

I swing my axe back and bring it down with a satisfying thud against the thick branch I’m cutting into. It cracks open, and I wipe the sweat from my brow before whacking it once more until it’s the perfect size for firewood. It might be spring, but I like to stock up for the winter as early as possible so the wood has plenty of time to dry out. It’s tiring, but it’s the kind of honest work that brought me up into the mountains in the first place. When I’m out here in the woods, chopping wood, I don’t have to think about all the painful shit that brought me to Colorado. Instead, I can lose myself in my work for hours, the swing of my axe keeping painful thoughts at bay. It's not just chopping firewood: I build furniture, sell lumber, and do just about anything I can to keep myself busy. I sure as hell don’t do it for the money—I made millions back in San Diego, and the cash I make from my woodwork is pocket change in comparison. I do it for the distraction. And when I collapse into bed each night, I’m so exhausted from a full day of physical labor that I don’t have to lie awake thinking about the past. I don’t have to torture myself over everything I should have done differently. It’s why I’ll never go back to life in the city. The mountains are the only place I feel any peace. With a low grunt, I make a start on the next batch of logs, raising my axe before my arm freezes in midair. I can hear footsteps somewhere nearby, and instinctively, I draw back into the shadows. I try to avoid people when I’m out here in the woods—that’s why I chose such an isolated spot. People are too damn nosy for me. They ask questions, want to know things. When my old colleagues in the city heard I was giving everything up for a cabin in the mountains, their interrogations were fucking relentless, and these days I prefer to keep to myself. That’s not the only reason I try to keep my distance, though. I’ve always been a tall guy, but after so long out here doing manual work every day, I’m stronger and brawnier than ever, with a thick beard and even thicker muscles. I know I must look pretty intimidating out here carrying an axe, and it doesn’t help that my natural expression looks grumpy as hell. There have been a few times were I’ve accidentally encountered hikers out here. Sometimes the poor fucks actually turn and run, like I’m Shrek emerging from his swamp. It doesn’t bother me, and I’m glad my appearance keeps people away, but I’m not in the mood to deal with some terrified walker right now, so I keep back as the footsteps get closer. To my annoyance, it sounds like the person is about to walk straight through the clearing I’ve been working in, and I huff out a sigh as I duck behind a clump of thick bushes, frowning impatiently. I peer through a gap between the leaves, waiting. A moment later, a figure approaches, wending its way through the trees. As the person gets closer, I can see it’s a woman. My heart starts to thump as she comes fully into view. Holy shit. I almost scratch my damn eyes out as I lean farther into the prickly branches of the bush, trying to get a better look. She’s so fucking beautiful. She looks about twenty-one, and her golden brown hair bobs around her shoulders as she walks, framing her youthful face. I stare at her wide doe eyes and her plump red lips, unable to stop my gaze from roaming down her body. Blue jeans hug her wide, curvy hips, and even her thick sweater can’t hide the generous swell of her breasts. I’ve never seen such a gorgeous woman. She looks so damn sweet, so pretty… Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking this shit, I tell myself as the girl gets closer and closer to the bushes I’m hiding behind. She’s half my age, goddammit. My mouth goes dry as the woman suddenly stops in her tracks, interrupting my thoughts. She peers around warily, like she can sense somebody watching her. I hate myself for scaring her, but showing myself, emerging like a giant from the bushes…well, that would probably terrify the life out of her. So I stay hidden, hardly daring to breathe, until the girl finally seems to decide she must have imagined it and keeps on walking, passing inches from the bush I’m hiding behind before continuing deeper into the woods and out of sight. For a moment, I don’t move. I can feel my pulse thumping in my ears, deafening me as I stay frozen. I should get back to work. I should continue with my day, finish chopping up all this wood, and head back to my cabin just like I always do. But something stops me—a nagging sensation in my stomach. The girl looked wildly unprepared for a trek through the woods. It can be dangerous out here—mountain lions prowl around these parts, and some innocent-looking streams and creeks are far deeper than they appear. Slippery rocks and boulders, falling branches…not to mention that it will be dark in a couple of hours. What if she gets lost? Before I can talk myself out of it, I slowly creep out from behind the bushes, drawing up to my full height. I can just about see the girl in the distance slipping between a pair of thick fir trees, and instinctively, I start to follow her. Blood thrums through my veins as I weave as quietly as possible through the trees, my eyes fixed on the girl, occasionally looking away to check for any dangers ahead of her. Part of me feels like a creep. I mean fuck, what am I thinking, following a young woman through the forest? But I can’t bring myself to turn back. I can’t tear my eyes away from this angel. I have to protect her. It’s an urge I can’t explain, something deep in my chest that forces me onward, trying to close some of the gap between us. In my haste to keep her in sight, I get clumsy, and I cringe as I step on a branch, the loud crack reverberating through the trees. Just in time, I leap behind a thick pine tree, watching through the needles as the girl looks around once more, definitely unnerved now. “Hello?” the girl calls, fear in her sweet voice. There’s silence except for the babble of the stream winding through the trees nearby. Shit. Part of me desperately wants to show myself and explain that she’s safe…that I’m just keeping an eye on her in this dangerous stretch of woods so she doesn’t hurt herself. But I’m not an idiot. She’ll probably think I’m a crazy axe murderer or something and could end up tripping and breaking her neck trying to run away from me. “Is someone there?” the girl continues, taking a step backward as she looks around frantically, then another. I see what’s about to happen a second too late. The girl stops in front of the stream, but the ground there isn’t as solid as it looks. The mossy earth beneath her feet crumbles into the water, and with a shriek of surprise, she tumbles backward, landing in the stream with a splash. There’s nothing for it. With my heart banging wildly against my chest, I dart out from behind the trees, rushing toward the girl. She’s lying flat on her back in the shallow creek, groaning as she catches her breath. Her clothes are soaked with icy water, and in her dazed state, it takes her a second to notice me. But as I climb down into the stream, her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open in shock. “Hey, it’s okay,” I tell her quickly. “I heard you scream. I’m here to help.” She stares at me for a few moments, still looking dazed, but she nods. “Th-thanks.” I reach down and scoop her out of the stream. Her sodden clothes drip all over my shirt, but I barely notice. All I can focus on is the feeling of holding this perfect girl in my arms as I carry her back to the solid forest floor and set her gently down so that she’s sitting with her back against a tree. “Are you okay?” I ask, urgency pulsing through me as I look into her pretty face. “Did you hit your head when you fell?” “No. I landed on my feet and then fell back onto my butt.” She winces slightly. “My left foot is really sore.” I nod. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here—somewhere warm,” I add as I notice her shivering in her wet things. “Thank you. My cabin isn’t far.” Her cabin? This gorgeous girl lives around here? How long has she been living just a few minutes away? How long have I failed to notice there was an angel so close to me? “I’ll get you back to your cabin,” I tell her. “You’re gonna be okay.” The girl smiles up at me but still looks pained, and my stomach twists with shame and guilt. I feel like an asshole. I should have prevented this. I was following her to keep her safe, but instead she ended up flat on her back in a creek because of me. She shouldn’t be thanking me; she should be telling me to leave her the hell alone. “What’s your name?” the girl asks tentatively, pulling me from my thoughts. My chest squeezes tight as I look into her eyes. They’re a breathtaking blue, like the sky on a summer afternoon, and I swallow hard as I say, “I’m Gunner. You?” “Scarlett,” she says simply with another smile, her plump lips curving upward, sucking the breath from my lungs. I run her name through my mind. Scarlett. My eyes are instinctively drawn to her pretty lips again, pouty and kissable…scarlet-red. “Well, Scarlett,” I mutter once I finally manage to make my mouth work again, “let’s get you out of here.”

I’m in a daze, and it’s not because I just fell into a stream. My pulse beats wildly as I stare up at my giant rescuer, taking in his huge frame and his ruggedly handsome face, partially covered by a dark beard. His forest green eyes watch me worriedly as he scoops me up into his arms, lifting me easily off the forest floor. The frozen water from the stream is turning me to ice, but I feel my shivers subside a little as I melt against Gunner’s broad chest, feeling his warmth against my body. Everything feels so surreal.When I left Oklahoma City at four o’clock this morning, I never imagined I’d end up in the arms of a gorgeous mountain man before the day was out. I wish he hadn’t found me lying in a stream like an overturned turtle—it’s not the best first impression I could have made—and my cheeks warm slightly at the thought. I feel like an idiot. I only just got to Colorado, and I’ve already proven I can’t take care of myself. It was meant to be a simple walk through the forest, yet I managed to literally land my butt in a freezing-cold creek. “I’m sorry about this,” I mumble, embarrassed. “I’m so clumsy. I kept thinking I heard something behind me, and then I took a step backward and the earth just gave way.” I chance a look at Gunner’s face, and I see something flicker in his eyes as he says, “It was me you heard.” His voice is a deep growl, and I shudder slightly as he continues, “I…was working out in the forest today. Didn’t know anybody else was around until you screamed. Sorry if I scared you.” There’s a look in his eyes that I can’t decipher, almost like he’s hiding something, but it’s gone before I can dwell on it anymore. “It’s okay,” I tell him. “It’s my fault for being so jumpy. I’m not really used to being out in the wild like this.” “I guess you’re not from around here then?” “Nope. I’m from Oklahoma. Just arrived, I moved here this morning actually. Great start, huh?” I smile at Gunner and he returns it unsurely, like he’s not used to moving his face in that way. “What about you? Are you from around here?” Gunner frowns slightly. “Not originally. I moved here from San Diego three years ago.” There’s something about the way he says it that suggests the matter is closed and not something he wants to talk about further, so I don’t ask him to elaborate. Instead, I steal curious glances as he carries me through the woods, the trees gradually thinning around us as I tell him the way to my cabin. There’s something guarded about Gunner, and I silently wonder if he lives alone out here. Maybe, like me, he came here to get away from something. Or maybe he just likes the mountains, I think, trying to be pragmatic. I don’t need to project all my issues onto a total stranger. “It’s just a minute further this way,” I say as patches of golden, late afternoon sunlight start to filter through up ahead. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk? I could probably manage—" “No,” Gunner grunts immediately. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.” He hasn’t even broken a sweat since we left the stream. My curves aren’t just for show; I’m far from light, but Gunner is carrying me like I’m weightless. I reach to grab my key from my pocket, expecting Gunner to put me down just outside the front door. Instead, he holds me with one arm, taking the key in his other hand and opening the door, carrying me across the threshold like a newlywed. My heart sinks a little when he finally sets me down on the couch, and I immediately miss the warmth of his body. “I’ll get a fire going,” he says, crouching down by the fireplace. “You should go and change out of those wet clothes.” He clears his throat, but he doesn’t say anything else before he starts piling up logs and kindling. I hurry into the bedroom to strip off, toweling myself dry before pulling on some comfy sweats and the thickest hoodie I can find. My foot is a little sore, but I have no problems walking on it as I pad back into the living room. Immediately, it feels like I’m sinking into a hot bath. A crackling fire is dancing in the hearth; Gunner is tending to it, and the whole room already feels warm and cozy. The icy cold in my bones melts away as I move to sit in front of the fire, letting it thaw my hands. “Thank you,” I say, smiling at Gunner. “Honestly, you’re a lifesaver.” He shrugs. “It was no problem.” “I’ll try to stay out of creeks in the future. Clearly I’ve got a lot to learn about the great outdoors.” Gunner’s lips twitch into a barelythere smile behind his beard, and he straightens up, looking around before he says, “You’ve got a really cute place here. You said you just moved in today?” “I…well, kind of, it’s an Airbnb,” I explain. “I’ve rented it for the next couple of months.” Gunner’s smile vanishes. “You’re not staying in Crave County permanently then?” “I hope so.” I sigh wistfully. “It’s complicated. I need to find a job and an apartment that I can afford, probably somewhere down in Winterdale. If everything goes well, hopefully I can move here for good.” Gunner seems to wrestle with himself before finally asking, “What made you want to move here in the first place?” I open my mouth to respond, but I can’t think of what to say. My mind flashes to my parents, but the words won’t come, and Gunner shakes his head.“Sorry,” he says, frowning. “I used to hate people asking me that question. It’s none of my business.” He looks suddenly serious. “You should be careful though, living out here all by yourself, walking in the forest…it can be dangerous.” Am I imagining it, or does he look worried about me? “You’re right,” I tell him, my heart fluttering slightly at the intensity of his gaze. “Next time I walk in the woods, I’ll be more careful…make sure I’ve got all the right equipment in case I get lost and stuff. I was dumb to just go striding off like that.” Gunner waves off my words. “You weren’t dumb. It’s just something you have to get used to. The forests around here are wild, they’re not always safe.” I nod. “Thanks for the warning.” Gunner looks at me for a moment longer before taking a step toward the door. “I’ll stop lecturing you now and leave you in peace.” I chuckle. “I don’t mind being lectured. Anything to stop me ending up ass-first in a creek again.” Gunner’s green eyes twinkle at me. He looks unbearably handsome: broad and strong and sexy as heck with that intense gaze bearing into me, making my whole body tingle. As he reaches out to open the door, I feel my chest squeeze uncomfortably. I don’t want him to go. Something about this handsome mountain man is intoxicating—he feels so safe, like he could protect me from anything. I want to be near him, but I can’t think of any excuse to make him stay. I can’t even offer him dinner since I haven’t been grocery shopping yet—all I’ve got is the cookies left by the owner and the leftover candy I bought for the drive here.“See you later, Scarlett,” Gunner says, my name sounding more like a sexy growl in his voice. “Bye, Gunner,” I say reluctantly. “Thank you for everything.” We stare at each other for a moment, eyes locked, the air between us sizzling with tension that seems to fill the tiny cabin, stealing my breath away. But all too soon, the moment is gone, and Gunner turns away from me, letting himself out of the front door. I spring up from the couch, ignoring the twinge in my foot as I peer out of the window, watching Gunner’s broad, retreating figure as he vanishes into the forest once more. When he’s gone, I feel oddly sad and empty. I pace around the cabin, restless, before I finally grab my car keys and head back outside, ready to head for the grocery store to grab something for dinner. And maybe a pint of cookie dough ice cream to make me feel better, I think to myself as I begin the drive down the mountain, my eyes peeled for any sign of the burly mountain man who’s already taking over my thoughts.