To Claim the Mountain Man

Chapter 7

ISLA MAE

The stench of cigarettes and strong liquor blanketed the sidewalk in front of Rex's Bar & Grill, wafting from the mouths of its patrons. It was only eleven at night, but the family-friendly grill had transformed, just like Mom warned.

And Heath.

The memory of my last, infuriating conversation with my brother's best friend-turned-neighbor rekindled my annoyance, and I sauntered up to the bar's entrance, Skylar and Eliana in tow. Eyes followed us the entire way in, but I kept my gaze ahead.

Confident.Cool. Like I belonged.

Of course, the tequila shots we took before leaving Sky's apartment helped, too.

When we stepped foot inside Rex's, I took a moment to admire the chaos unfolding across the room. Men and women—most were young, though a few older gentlemen sat at the bar with their eyes glued to the sports games on TV—filled the bar to the brim. They danced and laughed and kissed, played pool and darts. Everyone with a drink in their hands. The wooden floors vibrated with the bass of some oldies rock song I didn't recognize.

It was everything I imagined it would be, and that frightened and exhilarated me, all at once.

For the briefest moment, my stomach twisted, and I considered walking right back out again. What if Heath was right? What if I didn't belong?

No.

I refused shrink back into the version of myself that left Laurel Peak four years prior. The timid girl whose entire life revolved around remaining invisible. Staying out of trouble, keeping my head down. Back then, I did everything right.

And it wasn't enough. Not enough to stay in New York. Not enough to get into the Columbia MFA program or write something meaningful. So, I was done playing safe. Done playing by the rules. I wanted to break free from the yolk of the old Isla Mae.

And that started with a night at Rex's.

Taking a deep breath, I twined my arm through Eliana's and followed Sky to the crowded bar.

She elbowed her way through the crowd, creating just enough room for me and Eliana to squeeze in beside her. Sky motioned for the bartender, shouting our order above the fray. I couldn't hear what she ordered for us, but it couldn't be worse than the straight, flavorless vodka she poured all those years ago.

While the bartender went to work making our drinks, I allowed my gaze to drift across the bar, inwardly searching for a familiar pair of broad shoulders...

I hadn't spoken to Heath since my first night at the cabin. I'd seen him once or twice, coming and going from his driveway. And I'd be lying if I claimed that my eyes didn't wander toward his backyard when I heard him working in the rickety old shack behind his house.

But we didn't speak, and I hated the hint of disappointment that flickered inside of me as a result.

I sighed and shifted to lean my elbow against the bar top, only to bump into a stranger's back instead. The tall, dark-haired man in a flannel stiffened, and I held my breath as he turned around to confront me.

And yet, when the man's warm brown eyes lowered onto my face—then further to my lowcut tank top and denim mini skirt—they softened. He was boyishly handsome, with curls that flipped around his ears and pearly white teeth that almost looked fake. The top two buttons of his flannel were unbuttoned, displaying a silver chain that hung beneath his collarbone.

A lazy, drunk smile curled on his full lips, his cheeks dimpling in the process, and flagrant interest shone in his whiskey gaze. "Hey there, beautiful," he drawled, turning away from his friends to face me entirely.