Mountain Man's Accidental Surprise - K.C. Crowne Page 0,21
to live here. As a child. Some of my family still lives here, and Liv is my childhood best friend.”
“Why on Earth would your family move to Vegas then? No offense, but I’ve been to Vegas and it’s a shithole compared to Liberty.”
Her jaw tightened, and for a second, I thought I might have offended her. But then she nodded. “You’re right, Vegas is a shithole. I would have preferred to stay in Liberty, but after my mom died, my dad moved there for work.”
“What’s your dad do for a living?”
Her eyes narrowed. I thought she might not answer, but she eventually sighed and muttered, “He works in the casino industry.”
“I suppose that makes sense. What’s he do?”
“What’s it matter?” she snapped back.
I was taken aback by her response and glanced at her. She adjusted in her seat as if trying to get comfortable but struggling to do so.
“It doesn’t. It was just a question. I’m trying to make conversation to ease the tension, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry,” she said with another sigh. She turned back to the window. “I just don’t like talking about my dad too much. We don’t have the best relationship.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “I’ll stop asking about him.”
I’d rather talk about you, I thought to myself. But I kept that to myself. Emmy was clearly not in the mood for flirtatious gestures.
“I appreciate it, Graham,” she said softly. “I’d really rather not talk about my past at all.”
I heard the sadness in her voice, and it struck a chord deep within me. I wanted nothing more than to find out what was hurting her and to fix it – even though I knew it wasn’t always possible to fix everything. Especially when it came to past hurts and family.
We pulled onto the road leading to my house. We had to cross another bridge to get there, and as we did, I made a note of the water rising higher. It wasn’t flooded, and it was perfectly safe to cross, for now at least. Emmy gasped as we drove across, likely remembering how she came close to dying only hours before.
“It’s okay, the water isn’t high enough to wash it out,” I reassured her.
She nodded and choked out the word good just as we got across it. It was a short bridge, thankfully so. And from there, only a few more minutes until we’d reach our cabin. It was coming up on dinner time, and I knew my mother was planning on making her famous meatloaf and mashed potatoes. I looked forward to getting out of the rain and hoped Emmy would find some comfort with my family.
I parked near the porch, giving Emmy a quick shot to the front door. I glanced at her and asked, “Ready to make a run for it?”
She offered a small smile. “I don’t think we have much of a choice, do we?”
“Not unless you want to wait out the storm in the truck, and from the looks of it, this rain isn’t going to let up anytime soon.”
She nodded. “On the count of three then?”
“One...two…” I reached for the door handle. “Three!”
Her door opened at the same time and we both ran toward the front door. We had to slow down for the steps to the porch, but as soon as we made it to the top, the awning covered us and protected us from the rain.
“Cute place,” she said, looking around.
“Yeah, I think it’s pretty cozy,” I said. “Before we go inside, I just want to let you know that I live with my three brothers and our mom is currently visiting, so it’s a bit crowded.”
“That’s fine. It’s only for one night, and I promise to be out of your hair.”
“Stop saying that, Emmy. You’re not a problem at all.”
I opened the door and was hit with the warmth from the fire and the smell of Mom’s cooking. I let out a satisfied sigh as I closed the door, shutting out the rain and cold. There was nothing more comforting than being inside a warm house during a thunderstorm.
“Thank goodness you’re here, Graham,” Mom called from the kitchen. “Dinner is almost ready and—” She popped her head into the living room and stopped talking when she saw Emmy. Mom smiled brightly at me and stepped into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. “And who do we have here?”
“Ma, this is Emmy. She’s a, um, a friend of mine,” I said. “Emmy, this is