His mouth opened like he was going to speak, and then he quickly closed it. He did that once more before finally uttering, “Four and a half weeks?”
I felt my cheeks heat in embarrassment. “I didn’t realize it had been that long,” I hedged.
“Okay, okay, we’ll come back to that. How did you find the bunker?”
“Honestly, I stumbled upon it. I wasn’t watching the ground, and I literally tripped on the hatch.”
“You were out for a stroll in a mountain forest and just happened to trip over an underground bunker?” he asked, clearly not believing me.
I sighed, “I was running and not watching where I was going. I thought something was chasing me.”
“Seems like things are frequently chasing you,” he muttered.
“Tell me about it,” I mumbled. “I swear, I was only trying to get away from whatever was chasing me. When I tripped, I fell onto my hands and knees. That’s when I noticed the door. The only thing on my mind was getting away, so I yanked the door open and climbed inside. I had no idea what was down there.”
“Once whatever was chasing you was gone, why didn’t you leave?” he asked. A valid question. One I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, answer.
I twisted my hands in my lap while my mind raced to come up with a sufficient answer. “When I found the bunker, it was getting dark, so that’s why I initially stayed. The next day, I was scared to leave. When I finally got the courage to come out, the ground was covered in at least a foot of snow. At that point, I had to stay.” I paused for a few beats to gather my thoughts. “I was trying to get to the bottom of the mountain when the boars chased me. I don’t know what I’ve done to piss off the universe, but the past year of my life has been a series of devastating events, each one more damning than the last.”
“I see,” he said, I think more to himself than to me. “Why did you walk a mile and pitch a tent the morning after I found you?”
That one I could answer with the whole truth. “I only walked a mile because my leg was killing me, and I physically couldn’t go any farther. I planned to work my way down the mountain, little by little each day and camp at night.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes before he asked the dreaded question. “What were you going to do when you got to the bottom?”
“Uh, I was going to see if I could find a ride to a friend’s place.”
“Well, I can take you to your friend’s place, say, maybe day after tomorrow? Give that leg one more day to heal,” he suggested.
I tried with everything I had to keep my face neutral and hold back the tears, but I failed miserably. First my chin wobbled, then my lip quivered. Once my nose scrunched, there was no stopping the tears. “I don’t know how to get there,” I whispered. “I was hoping someone from town would know. I have to find her cabin. I just have to. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
He made a humming noise in his throat as his arms surrounded me again. He let me cry for a bit before patting my back and saying, “Don’t worry, Locks. We’ll find your friend’s place.” After a few more minutes, he added, “I think that’s enough talking for tonight. You need to get some rest.”
He stood and moved toward the door, but he stopped at the threshold and turned back, “I won’t lock you in here if you promise not to run away.”
“I won’t. I promise.” And I wouldn’t. When I told him I didn’t have anywhere to go, it was the truth. With not one, but three people looking for me, my options were beyond limited.
* * *
The following morning,I put on my big girl panties and made myself go downstairs for breakfast. Copper was at the stove with his back to me, his bare back. His well-defined, muscular, mouthwatering back. My hands itched to trace the lines of the tattoos covering most of the exposed skin I could see.
Then, he turned around. And my jaw dropped. His chiseled chest and tapered waist were covered in ink, but his carved abs were bare. His jeans hung deliciously low on his hips, making it clear he was sporting the desired V so many women craved and very few men had.
When I finally managed to drag my eyes away from his sinful torso to his face, he wasn’t watching me ogle him. No, he was doing his own ogling, and if my guess was correct, his eyes were fixated on my chest. I cleared my throat, “My eyes are up here, buddy.”
He smirked, “I know they are, Locks, but I’m enjoying looking at your tits right now.”
I immediately crossed my arms over my chest and scoffed, “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”
“Why? You’re the one who came downstairs with those babies on full display. You don’t see me complaining about you staring at my chest, do you?” he said with a smirk and turned back to the stove.
Part of me wanted to dash upstairs and put on the bra I forgot to don while putting on my big girl panties, as well as another shirt. The other part of me was thrilled that he was looking, and enjoying it as he proclaimed. The man was insanely hot, as in way out of my league hot.
“If you’re finished brooding, breakfast is ready.”
Yes, he was insanely hot, until he opened his mouth and ruined the façade.
“I hope your cooking skills are better honed than your social skills,” I muttered, stomping with one foot to the barstool to take a seat.