Her Mountainside Haven

by Jo McNally

  She was tempted to ask him to stay, but then what? She chewed her bottom lip. He was right—neither of them was thinking clearly at the moment. That kiss had jumbled her brain cells into a roaring bonfire of desire, which was a brand-new sensation for her. One she needed to spend some time examining.

  “Like you said, we need to make sure we’re thinking this through and not being impulsive.” Because impulsive rarely worked for her. “Text me when you get home so I know you’re not in a ditch somewhere.”

  His smile deepened, his gray-blue eyes warm and tender. He leaned forward, placed a soft kiss on her forehead and promised he’d text. She watched his car head down the drive, then went up the steps and inside, shedding her wet coat and hat. This would be a good night for a fire. She’d just lit kindling under some logs when Sophie let out a low growl at her side.

  Sometimes dogs did things that weren’t great for the nerves. Like those times when a dog stared intently at what seemed to be nothing outside a door or window, hackles rising on her back. And then growling at it. Was she seeing her own reflection in the glass? A ghost? A figment of doggy imagination? Jillie shook herself. No wonder she wrote horror novels with this overactive brain of hers. She stood and turned toward the window wall, and let out a quick squeak of fear when she saw a man-size shape reaching the top of the stairs and moving onto her deck.

  Sophie charged forward, barking furiously. The noise made Jillie squeal again, but as she stared at the apparition, she recognized the general shape. The blue wool coat. The soaking-wet golden hair. Matt? Sophie was literally flinging herself at the glass now, her barks turning deeper and even more threatening. Jillie gave a sharp command. Sophie stopped barking, but her growl was low and continuous.

  Matt stood on the far side of the deck, apparently nervous the Rottweiler might actually bust through the triple-pane glass to come after him. Jillie’s heart was racing at the unexpected visitor, but...this was Matt. She hadn’t heard an alert on her phone, but sometimes the driveway camera got covered with snow. She finally forced her feet to move and opened the door, pointing at Sophie sternly until the dog retired to her bed in the corner, still grumbling and growling.

  “Matt?” She blinked at him through the blowing snow. “What are...?”

  He brushed his hands on his thighs, and she noticed his pant legs were hanging wet and heavy against his skin.

  “Did you fall down again?” She grinned, but he didn’t return the smile. The wind gusted and she gestured for him to come in. “Get in here before you turn into a Popsicle.”

  His jaw was tight as he walked past, his eyes looking anywhere but directly at her. His cheeks were ruddy and red...was it the cold or was he blushing? He stopped just inside, looking down at the clothes she could now see were completely water soaked.

  “I don’t want to drip on your floor...” he started.

  She waved him off. “Forget about that. That’s why the entry is slate. Kick off your boots, though. I was starting a fire, so you can warm up there. What on earth happened?”

  He slowly shrugged off his coat, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “Remember when you warned me about ending up in a ditch somewhere?” He met her gaze. “Turns out somewhere was right at the end of the road. A gust of snow blinded me for a second, and I turned too short...and slid straight into the ditch.”

  The ditches at the bottom of the mountain were deep and wide, made that way to accommodate heavy spring runoffs. Large culverts crossed under the main road at intervals to send the water all the way down to the lake. She’d noticed when she got her mail that afternoon that the ditches were looking like whitewater rapids after a few days of heavy rain.

  “Oh, my God. Are you hurt? Is your car okay? How did you get out without...?”

  “Without drowning?” He grimaced a bit as he moved his shoulder in a circle, testing it. “It wasn’t easy. The car was nose-down, and I was basically hanging from the seat belt.” He rubbed his chest. “Once I got myself unbuckled, the steering wheel broke my fall nicely. I crawled out the passenger door and made a leap for the high side of the ditch. There was a little tree there that came in very handy. It kept the top half my body from being submerged in ice water.”

  “Go sit in that big chair while I get the fire going. There’s a blanket...”

  He shook his head. “I’m a muddy mess. And honestly, I’m chilled to the bone. What I’d really like first is a hot shower.” Her brows shot up, and he gave the first hint of a smile. “Alone. I don’t know what I’ll do about clothes, but these pants feel like they’re freezing directly to my skin...”

  Jillie’s pulse jumped. She was way out of her element here. A man she’d just kissed the daylights out of was standing in her house asking for a shower. She counted to herself, focusing on picturing the shapes of the numbers instead of her rising panic.

  One, two, three, four...

  Feeling a little more in control, she tried to work out a plan. Plans calmed her. But what plan was there for Matt Danzer naked under her roof? She blew out a forceful breath, knocking that vision straight out of her head.

  “Okay. Of course.” She splayed her hands firmly, palms down, as if calming a wild animal. Except that wild animal was her own imagination. She looked up with a bright smile, as if men showed up here all the time asking for showers. This was fine. “Use the spare bedroom, down the hall on the right. There’s a shower in there. It’s not big or fancy, but it will do the job. There are towels on the shelf above the toilet. As far as clothes...” She looked around, willing a rack of men’s clothing to appear. Oh! Men’s clothing! She almost laughed in relief. “I almost forgot—I was putting together a donation box for charity, and Cassie from the resort dropped some things off. I’m sure she had some of her husband Nick’s clothes in there.” She eyed his frame quickly. “They should fit. At least until we can get these washed and dried.”

  His shudder was so slight she almost missed it. From the clench of his jaw, she could tell he’d been struggling to hold it in. He had to be freezing. She grabbed his arm and pushed him forward.

  “Get in there. Right past the kitchen. Are you sure you’re not injured? Do we need to call someone?”

  Matt shook his head sharply. “I don’t think so. I’ll know more after the shower.” He took a few steps in his stocking feet, then looked up in surprise. “Are these floors heated?”

  “It’s nice, isn’t it?” She smiled. “I had it added when I remodeled. Look, I was going to cook up some angel hair pasta and marinara sauce. Does that sound okay for dinner?”

  His eyebrows rose. “You don’t have to feed me...”

  “Well, I have to feed myself, and you’re not going anywhere with your car in the ditch, so it looks like you’re here for a while. You may as well eat.”

  He looked past her to the snow falling outside, thicker by the minute.

  “I guess you’ve got a point.”

  * * *

  The steaming-hot shower helped Matt’s mood somewhat, but this had still been a colossally bad evening. The rushing water in the ditch had chilled him to the freakin’ bone. His car was wrecked. His shoulder was sore. He’d felt like a fool trudging back up the hill to Jillie’s place, but where else was he going to go? His phone had tumbled into the black water, so calling for help wasn’t an option. He braced his hands on the back of the small shower and dropped his head, closing his eyes.

  The day hadn’t been all bad. He’d secured another investor that morning in Albany. And Jillie had kissed him. He smiled and stretched in the steam. On second thought, this day had been pretty damn good. Stellar, as a matter of fact. He put his head under the shower spray and shook it, feeling his muscles loosen up at last.

  That was some damn kiss. He literally hadn’t seen it coming. It was one thing to have her lips touch his, but when she pressed up against him and let him kiss her back...wow. That was a fireworks-and-big
-brass-band kind of kiss. She’d doubted herself after he’d pulled away, so he’d tried to reassure her. By putting her hand. On his erection. That was a moment, right there. Hot little Jillie smiling proudly with her hand cupping him. Why he hadn’t gone off like a missile was a mystery. It was probably a contributing factor to why he’d driven his car—his new car—straight into an overflowing ditch. Did he wait there to flag down another driver to help? Nope. He’d walked right back up the mountain to get to Jillie.

  He turned off the shower before he scalded himself. When he reached for a towel, he was surprised to see an unfamiliar pair of dark blue sweatpants and a...a pink-and-green checked dress shirt? His own clothes, including underwear, were gone. Which meant two things. He was going commando tonight. And Jillie had been in this tiny bathroom while he was naked in the shower. What would have happened if he’d turned around to see her standing there on the other side of the frosted shower door? Had she stood there? Maybe the steam had obliterated him completely. But what if it hadn’t?

  He pulled on the sweats, which were a little short. Other than that, they fit. The shirt fit, too, but made for quite the look with the pants. Being barefoot wasn’t an issue with her heated floors. Even in here, he could feel the gentle warmth. Or was that because he’d been thinking of Jillie? He shook his head with a smile and opened the door. Where he was greeted by Sophie.

  The dog’s eyes were like lasers, watching his every move. A low, grumbling growl echoed in the hallway. Moving felt like a really bad idea. He cleared his throat and called out in a level tone, trying not to show the dog his fear.

  “Uh... Jillie?”

  “I’m draining the pasta,” she called. “Do the clothes fit?”

  “They’ll do. But... I can’t get out of here.”

  “Why not?”

  “Your canine enforcer won’t let me.”

  Being laughed at was not usually his favorite thing, but Jillie’s laughter warmed him from the inside out. He heard the swoosh of pasta water going into the kitchen sink.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Matt. Haven’t you ever had a dog?”

  “My parents had a beagle when I was a kid. He spent all his time charging off after rabbits in the woods behind our house.” He avoided looking directly at Sophie. She wasn’t growling at the moment, but her hackles were still up along her spine. “I never feared her eating me.”

  “Look Sophie straight in the eye, command her to sit and walk by her calmly...as if she was your non-man-eating beagle.”

  What were the odds of him making any more of a fool of himself than he already had tonight? He leveled a stern look at Sophie, and told her to sit. She looked surprised, but she did it, narrowing her eyes at him. Then he took a deep breath and walked past her. And lived.

  He found Jillie in the kitchen. The dog followed silently. Jillie looked over the counter at Sophie.

  “Good girl! Go to your place.” Sophie gave him one last baleful look before going to the large dog bed in the corner. Jillie slid his bowl across the kitchen island. “We can eat by the fire. It will be roaring by the time we finish. Between the shower, the hot food and that shot of whiskey I put by your seat, you should be warming up in no time.” Her lips twitched as she took in his ensemble. “You’re cutting quite the California figure there, but it looks like it fits?”

  He took the plate, loaded with pasta and delicious-smelling sauce. “The sweats are a little short, but they’ll do.” They sat on giant floor pillows in front of the fireplace, facing each other with their backs against two leather chairs. He grimaced at the sweats, which were even shorter now that he was sitting. “Why are you the one collecting for charity? I mean, you don’t...”

  “Go anywhere?” She finished his sentence. “I’m in charge of collecting, laundering and organizing. I can handle that much on my own, and it gives me a chance to contribute. Nora or someone will pick it all up when the rummage sale gets closer.”

  They ate in silence for a moment, other than the crackling of the fire. Something was gnawing at him though, and he couldn’t help asking one more question.

  “That doesn’t bother you?” She looked up in surprise. “To have to do all those work-arounds to cope with...”

  “With my agoraphobia? That’s what it is, in case you hadn’t guessed. And no, the work-arounds do the opposite of bothering me. I figure I can either live in fear of my next panic attack and have no life—” she shrugged “—or I can live my life in a way that lets me avoid panic situations and still have a life. It’s my way of controlling something that doesn’t want to be controlled.”

  They ate in silence again while he thought about that. It was ingenious, really, even if he couldn’t ever see himself doing it.

  “I was raised to fight things head-on rather than work around them, I guess.” His head dropped back as he swore softly. “That sounded passive-aggressive as hell. Sorry.” He shrugged at her. “I’m not saying I’m right, it’s just my reality. But what you’ve done works for you really well, and I admire that.”

  Jillie sipped her wine and set the glass on the edge of the hearth. The fire had settled into a gentle flame, and the logs glowed in pulses of red heat. With the hot shower, the food, the fire and the beautiful woman sitting across from him...he’d almost forgotten about his dip in the icy ditch. Which no one else knew about. He grumbled a curse under his breath. Bryce.

  “Damn. I forgot to call my brother after my shower. Do you mind if I use your phone?” Jillie shook her head, handing her phone to him, then using a slice of Italian bread to soak up the pasta sauce on her plate.

  Bryce sounded agitated when he answered the call from Jillie’s number. “Jillie, have you seen Matt by any chance?”

  “Hey, Bryce. It’s me.”

  “What the hell, Matt?” Bryce said something muffled, as if talking to someone in the house. “Yeah, it’s him.” Then his voice was clear—and angry—again. “The police chief is here, and he says they found your car in a ditch. Are you okay? Why are you using Jillie’s phone?”

  Matt grimaced. He should have called Bryce right away. “I’m fine. I’m at Jillie’s. My phone’s in the ditch along with the car. I walked up here and she helped me get warmed up...” Her eyes brightened with laughter at his choice of words, and his brother chuckled on the other end of the call, his anger forgotten.

  “Really? Jillie Coleman warmed you up, huh? Interesting.” Someone spoke in the background, presumably Dan Adams. Bryce responded, “Yeah, Dan, I’m surprised, too.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that, you ass. She let me take a shower and...”

  “You showered at her place? Well, this gets better and better!”

  “Come on, Bryce. It’s totally innocent.” A spot of color appeared on Jillie’s cheeks. That kiss hadn’t been totally innocent, of course, but no one needed to know about that. After all, he and Jillie were both pretending to each other that it never happened. He cleared his throat. “Are the roads still lousy?”

  “Dan says there are accidents everywhere. You should probably camp out with your totally innocent friend tonight.” There was a muffled conversation on Bryce’s end that Matt couldn’t make out. “Dan said he’s got a buddy with a body shop and he’s got a tow truck. He can be there in the morning. So you and Jillie go have your pajama party.” Bryce hesitated. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do...which, as you know, gives you lots of leeway, big brother.”

  Jillie had risen to take their bowls into the kitchen, so she missed Matt’s rolled eyes. He ended the call with a succinct suggestion for what Bryce could do with his innuendo and advice, then set the phone on the side table. There was a photo there of Jillie graduating college. An older woman stood next to her, and they were both smiling brightly. There were other graduates milling around in the background. There was another photo of a young Jillie laughing with a group of women on a beach somewhere, holding a fruity drink in h
er hand. There was Jillie on horseback as a teen, smiling shyly into the camera.

  She returned with a bottle of wine, a glass for him and a small plate of brownies. She sat cross-legged on the floor, and patted the pillow for Sophie to come join her. The dog did as asked, but not without casting him another suspicious look as she walked by.

  “I’m assuming Bryce suggested you stay here for the night?”

  He nodded. “Dan was there. He said the roads are awful. I can walk over to the lodge and sleep there...”

  “Didn’t you say they just did the floors? That won’t work.”

  Her phone chirped, and she chuckled when she looked at it.

  “That didn’t take long. Dan’s already let his wife know you’re here.” She held up the phone. “Mack wants to know if I’m okay.”

  “And are you?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” She tapped on the phone. “I’m telling her not to worry.” She frowned at the screen. “She’s echoing what Dan told Bryce. The roads are terrible.” She typed an answer while still talking to Matt. “Dan’s going to have a busy night. You’ve already seen where the guest room is. Just stay.”

  She sounded at ease about it, which was another piece of the Jillie puzzle that didn’t fit. She was agoraphobic. He thought that meant never leaving the house. And she just suggested he stay, as if overnight guests stopped by all the time. He was pretty sure they didn’t. He gestured toward the pictures.

  “You weren’t always like this, were you? I mean...you didn’t always have to work around your...um...fears...”

  She stared at the photos, scratching the dog’s head absently. “It’s not fear, Matt. It’s a phobia. I’m not scared, I’m phobic. Scared is what I feel when I see a big spider. A spider makes me jump or yell, and might even make my skin crawl, but it doesn’t render me catatonic. Fear is an emotion. Phobia is a condition.” She stopped, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. “Sorry for the lecture.”