Cave Man (The First Mountain Man Book 1)

by Frankie Love

  He's a caveman. The first of his kind.

  5

  Stone

  I watch her sleep all night. Maybe that's creepy. Honestly, I don't give a fuck. This is the first person I’ve seen in five years, a woman, and not just any woman. The kind of woman with fire in her eyes, blood pumping in her heart. She's alive and she's scared. That alone has me on edge. Has me watching for any sign of movement beyond the cave.

  Of course, I'm always on high alert, but now it's different. Skylar needs me to protect her. I'm not saying she's not strong enough to protect herself, but I know this place. I know that it is unyielding. Relentless. It's a take-no-prisoners kind of land that could eat a girl like her up even if she has her fists raised.

  Right now, though, her arms are by her sides and her eyes are closed. She talks in her sleep a little bit and I find it endearing. She's muttering the words, Tori and Sarah – what was I thinking… and, It doesn't feel like a mistake, and, Who is he…

  I'd say the girl is speaking her mind, but she's dreaming. My cock twitches when I consider the idea of her dreaming about me. To hell with Sarah and Tori, whoever the hell they are. I want her mind to wander to other things. Other people. Me.

  In the morning, when she stirs I've already got food cooking – rhino steaks mixed with wild onions and mushrooms. I know it's not a fancy brunch like she deserves, but it's something. I'm expecting her to give me a morning smile, I don't know, something nice.

  But she wakes up hot – not hot and bothered, I'm talking she’s ready for a fight.

  "Seriously?" she groans in disbelief, sitting up from the cot. "I wanted to think it was all a terrible nightmare, that this didn’t actually happen. I thought maybe I'd wake up and this wouldn't be real. That this place would have been a figment of my imagination."

  That has me tense, annoyed. "I'm not in your imagination. I'm a real ass man. Touch me if you don't believe me." I hold out my arm and she frowns, tucking her arms and crossing them, refusing me. "Fine," I say. "Good to know you wake up grumpy."

  "You say that like you need to get to know me."

  "Don't I?" I ask. "I've been alone for five years. You're the first person I've talked to in a hell of a long time. Yeah, I'd like to learn your habits considering–"

  "Considering what?" she asks, now more than hot. She's pissed. "You think since I'm the only woman around, I'm your property now?"

  I scowl. "Property? I didn't say that."

  "You didn't have to," she says, reaching for her backpack and tossing it on over her shoulders, huffing out of the cave, away.

  I stand, growling, going after her and grabbing her arm, tugging her back around. "Don't do something stupid."

  "Are you calling me stupid now?"

  "No, but walking out into this world without any preparation, yeah, it's pretty fucking stupid, Skylar."

  Her eyes blaze and she pulls back her arm. I let her go. "I'm not looking to fight. I'm not saying you owe me anything. I'm just saying it'd be nice to have a friend."

  "A friend?" she asks, blinking, looking me over. "Well, you don't seem very friendly."

  "Like you can talk," I scoff, turning back to the fire. "I made you breakfast."

  She follows me to my fire pit. "What is this?"

  "Rhino," I say.

  She groans. "This is like a nightmare situation. You realize that, right?" she asks me.

  “Why are you so pissed?”

  “We’re stuck in the Stone Age. Aren’t you angry?”

  I shrug. “I’m used to it.”

  She blinks back tears, refusing to let them fall. Her hands are in fists, and I see her anger is her way to protect herself, to shield herself from getting hurt. I’m guessing she’s had a hard life if she’s intent on putting up walls so fast, and my heart goes out to her.

  I understand not feeling secure. And I make a vow here and now to make sure Skylar always feels safe with me. She doesn’t need to know about my promise, hell, it’d probably set her off. But it’s a promise I’m making all the same.

  “Just sit down and eat some food, okay? You can get mad after you’ve eaten.”

  Exhaling, she gives in and sits down. "So, rhino for breakfast, huh? It’s funny, actually. I work out at this gym, this CrossFit place – did they have CrossFit when you were still in the real world?"

  I nod. "Yeah, they had fucking CrossFit, Skylar."

  "Sorry. I didn't know. So anyways, at this CrossFit gym there were these guys who were all obsessed with new diets and bulking up and they were all really into the caveman diet. I just find it all a little hilarious."

  "Really? You find it hilarious? Because you're not laughing."

  "I'm a hard read," she says, deadpan. She rolls her eyes and reaches for a piece of meat on a skewer, takes a bite. Her face scrunches up in disgust. It's a fair assessment. The meat is tough and bland. I don't exactly have a spice rack.

  "So you never tried the caveman diet?" I ask. "Is that what you're getting at?"

  "No, I never did," she said. "I thought it was stupid to live on meat and vegetables."

  "But now?" I say, taking my own skewer and taking a bite of the meat. Sure, it's tasteless, but it's protein.

  "It's just ironic, you know?"

  "Yeah, the irony is that the caveman diet is a lot harder when you have no fast food options to fall back on," I tell her.

  She eats, but her mood doesn't change from sour. "I could really use a latte," she says.

  "Is that what you were drinking on your backpacking trip?" I ask. "I kind of thought you were a tougher girl than that."

  She rolls her eyes. "You know nothing about me, Stone."

  "So tell me something," I say. "Like I said, I'm looking for a friend."

  She frowns, then bites her bottom lip. "Actually," she says, "you're right. I wasn't planning on morning lattes while I was backpacking. I didn't have money for that anyways. It's a little bit more of a luxurious life than I have to get a coffee to go every day. So, I made a plan."

  "A plan?" I ask, my interest piqued.

  She opens her backpack and pulls out a portable espresso pot and a pouch full of espresso powder. "You just fill this with hot water, you put the espresso grinds in the top and then you let it steep for a few minutes," she explains. "You plunge it and then voila."

  "Espresso." My eyes widen. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

  "What? You don't want coffee?"

  I shake my head, salivating. "No, I love coffee. It's the one thing..." I shake my head. "Well, not the one thing, but one of the things I really miss."

  "Yeah? Well, what else do you miss?"

  I shake my head, looking her up and down. Fuck, she looks fine. "I don't think you want to know."

  "Try me," she says. "Remember, I work out with a bunch of assholes, I can handle whatever you're going to say."

  "You worked out with them, past tense," I clarify. "You're not going back there Skylar. That world, that life – it's over."

  She frowns, snatching the baggie of ground espresso beans from my hand. "Fine. If you want to be so rude about it, give me back my coffee."

  I let her take it. "I wasn't trying to start anything."

  "You're just pointing out that life as I know it is over. Great. Awesome. Just rub it in, why don't ya?"

  "I'm not trying to rub it in, I'm trying to make sure you understand the situation. You're stuck here. You're stuck here with me."

  At that, she groans, falling back on the cot, covering her face.

  "I know it’s a lot," I say. "But soon you’ll realize it’s not so bad. At least we have this cave."

  She sits up. This girl, she's hot and cold, fire and ice. "I'm not saying it's you that's so bad," she says, "honest. You're nice and I'm not being very nice back, but..."

  "But what?"

  "But I'm scared, Stone. I'm scared of being out here and getting eaten alive."

  "You won't get eaten alive as long as you’ve got me. I promise. I have your back."

  "In tha
t case, I'll make you some coffee. That seems like a fair enough trade. A cup of Joe in exchange for my life." She smiles, offering me an olive branch.

  "I’ll get the water going," I tell her, walking toward my hut. In the hut I grab the small portable pot I had in my backpack when I wound up here. I use it to boil water, to cook soup. While I'm in the hut, I remember the Snickers bar that was in my backpack when I traveled through time. I saved it.

  Now I pick it up, carrying it back to the cave. I fill the pot with water, setting it on my makeshift grill. While the water boils and Skylar fills the pot with the espresso grounds, I show her my stash. Stash might be a bit of an exaggeration, considering it's one chocolate bar.

  "What's that for?" she asks.

  "I've been saving it," I tell her. "All these years whenever I think I've reached my lowest point, I keep saving it thinking there's going to be a worse day."

  She laughs. "I'm your worst day? You're finally going to break out the candy because you met me. Am I really that bad?"

  I shake my head. "You're not bad, Skylar." I look her over. "Not by a long fucking shot."

  "Then why break out the sugar for little old me?" she asks.

  "Because maybe I was saving this chocolate bar for the wrong thing. I was looking for a rainy day and instead, I got a sky that's blue."

  "I'm your blue sky?"

  I nod. "I think maybe you are. Hell, you brought me coffee. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for me in five years."

  She laughs loudly.

  “Fuck, that’s the best sound I've ever heard in this cave.”

  “If I recall, you haven't talked to anyone for five years, so that’s not exactly a glowing compliment."

  "Maybe I haven't talked to anyone in five years, but I feel like you – you were worth waiting for."

  6

  Skylar

  After we feast on our coffee and chocolate, Stone tells me we've got to get to work.

  "Work?" I look around. "It's not like there's any bills to pay out here."

  He chuckles. "No bills, sure, but it's no easy task collecting water and hunting. I spend my day just trying to get by for myself. Now there are two mouths to feed."

  I swallow, my skin prickling, feeling like a burden. He must notice me withdrawing because he sits back down on his stone stool, looking at me curiously. “What’s going on? You seem sad all of a sudden.”

  "I grew up always being in the way," I tell him. "I was in foster care and it was always like I was one more mouth to feed." I shake my head. "It's probably stupid. I just don't want to be a burden."

  "You're not. Company is all I’ve wanted these past five years." He looks me over. Squeezes my upper arm. "Besides, you're strong. I think you can handle it out here."

  I laugh. "I’m not sure. I might get eaten alive before I can forage for food. I remember watching episodes of Survivor years ago where they would have to search the jungle for coconuts and mussels on the beach. Subsisting on a five-pound bag of rice for like a month."

  Stone shakes his head. "It's not like that out here. That show was staged to some extent, had to be. We don't have rice. I don't have some fancy ass cooking pot. I was just lucky I had some flint in my backpack when I got here, otherwise I might still be building a fire."

  I laugh. "They didn't teach you how to make a fire in the military?"

  "I must have missed that training."

  I stand, brushing off my shorts and reaching for my boots. "All right, just let me get cleaned up and you can show me how to earn my keep."

  A few hours later, he's shown me where his traps are. There’s a local water spring that he uses to collect his water, and I'm thankful to learn we don't have to boil it. Everything out here is all-natural. We're truly in the Stone Age, the flora and fauna I see are majestic, large and beautiful. When I see a fifteen-foot crocodile cross our path, I gasp, but Stone just shakes his head.

  "He's not looking for us. Look," he points down river, "that's where he's headed."

  There's a pod of crocodile further down and I smile. "They're having their breakfast too."

  "Something like that," he says.

  Up ahead, his bird Polly circles before gliding down to land on a branch in a nearby tree. She cocks her head at Stone, cawing, singing a song.

  He chuckles. "I don't know what you saw, but it sounds like it was fun," he tells her. He looks over at me. "What?"

  I laugh. "Sorry, I just think it's kind of funny you talk to birds."

  "I told you, I haven't had much company. Any company."

  I can only imagine how lonely it must've been for him. And although I am not at all happy to be here, I'm happy in the sense that I get to give him a little bit of a reprieve. Five years, toughing it out here all alone? I shake my head in amazement as he shows me his bow and arrow, the spears he's carved, the supplies he's gathered that he keeps stored in his hut.

  "It's not much," he says, "and I'll have to make you a bed. You can choose where you want me to build it."

  "I want to sleep close to you," I say.

  Stone lifts his eyebrows, running a hand over his beard. I see a glint of desire in his eyes, but he doesn’t act on it. My core, though, tightens, longing for more than a look.

  "I stay by the fire,” he says, eyes on mine. “So, right next to my bed is probably best."

  I nod. "All right, well, I can collect some branches and brush to try and make a bed."

  "Sounds good," he tells me. "I'm gonna hunt down that warthog that’s been grunting.”

  “How will you kill it?” I ask.

  Stone reaches in his satchel for a hunting knife and I am reminded how thankful I am to have him here. Not just because he has weapons to protect us, but because he knows how to use them.

  “What?” he asks.

  I lick my lips. “It’s just really impressive. How you know how to protect yourself.”

  He shakes his head ever so slowly. “Not myself. Protect us. Protect you.”

  He turns before I can say anymore, and I’m glad to be left alone for a moment because my cheeks feel flushed and my heart races. Why does the idea of a man hunting down dinner turn me on so damn much?

  I hear the squeal of the hog in the distance as I am braiding a cot together with palm leaves, trying to remember how to cross them correctly. I stand, leaving the cave, to see Stone walking toward the cave with the hog across his shoulders.

  He is nearly naked, in nothing but that loincloth, his chest glistening with sweat, the bloody knife in his hand. My mouth waters.

  He is ripped, wild, and feral – giving me a grin that makes my belly flip-flop.

  “Hungry?” he asks.

  “Starving,” I say, the double entendre lost on him. But oh my god, none of it is lost on me. I pretend to work on the cot for the next hour, but in reality I am just staring at Stone as he guts the warthog so we can have supper. His biceps flex, the muscles in his back too, and I have a primal desire to climb up that mountain of a man and let him know he can feast on me.

  I don’t do that, though. Of course not. And it’s not because I’m a virgin. It’s because I cannot ruin what I have here. Someone willing to look out for me, keep me safe. If I make a move that he doesn’t want, he might look at me differently. And then where will that leave me?

  I don’t want to be alone out here in the wild.

  We work like that for the rest of the day. I eventually get more focused and use the zip ties that are in my backpack to secure a cot for myself as he finishes cleaning the hog. Blood pours like a river down the dirt and the smell is a little wretched but still, every once in a while, I take a quick look over my shoulder, seeing his muscles tense as he works to keep us alive.

  Later, when we go to bed at night, my stomach is full from the meat he cooked over the open pit. And while I'm still stunned to be here, I'm less tense than I was the night before.

  And though I’m not hungry, my body is out of sorts as I look over at him lying on his bed, wishing he were closer.r />
  When I wake in the morning, it's like life is on repeat. Collect water, hunt for food, watch out for wild animals, work, sleep, work, sleep. Suddenly, I've been here a week. Then two. Then three.

  The energy between Stone and I is hard to understand. There are moments of affection, but then he always pulls back. He’ll reach for my hand, then let it go when what I really want is for him to hold on tight.

  He's a hard read and I know he was lonely before I came, but I think he's on edge. Scared to do or say anything that might upset me. He doesn't want me to run away. Probably because I threatened to twice in the first twelve hours I was here.

  He doesn't want to lose me, but it makes me think he also doesn't want me like that, which is fine. I'm probably not his type, though for a caveman like him, what is his type?

  But by the end of the third week, I'm tired of working. I groan as I get out of bed, my muscles sore. The work I've been doing is way harder than any cardio I've ever sweated out at a gym. This is backbreaking work. No wonder the cavemen didn't live long. They were fighting tooth and nail for every breath they took. Nothing was easy.

  I push away my fears that the rest of my life is going to be hard and try to smile.

  "Let's have some coffee," I say as Stone adds some kindling to the fire. "I know we said we should only use it every once in a while but I think today we should take the day off. I want to look in the caves and see if there is something we can do to get out of here.”

  Stone lifts his chin. “This is where you live now, Skylar. This is your home whether you like it or not."

  My eyes narrow. "Don't say that. I'm going to figure out a way to get out of here. I'm going to go back to those caves, and I'm going to see if I can do something to trigger the time travel. There's got to be something."

  “It’s impossible. I spent months doing the same damn thing. Went down to the caves for years, every day trying to get the hell out of this place, but couldn’t find any magic doorway to help me escape. There's nothing I could do to start the charge that made the cave spin and made me wind up here," he tells me.”