To Claim the Mountain Man

Chapter 21

HEATH

I sat on Isla's porch for the better part of Saturday evening, waiting. Smokey slept by my boots.

I'd asked Kat to check on my mother that evening so that I could return home before Isla left for her date, but I was too late. By the time I arrived and knocked on her door, no one answered.

Her car still sat in the driveway, meaning the bastard—whoever he was-- had picked her up. I had no idea if she'd be coming home tonight, but I planned on being here when she did.

So, I waited.

And, as the sunset bled into darkness and precious minutes passed into hours, my traitorous mind began conjuring images of what Isla might be doing at that very moment. Was she tangled in someone else's sheets; miles of milky, bare skin being worshiped by another? Or was it like Kat assumed? Did her date have her bent over the side of the couch while he fucked her from behind, one eye on the television?

Every scenario tortured me. Anger flared in my chest, spurring me to stand and pace the length of her porch every ten minutes. I wanted to punish her, though I knew I had no right to. And, fuck, I wanted to kill the bastard who was with her.

It was nearly ten o'clock when headlights appeared, followed by the soft purr of an electric engine and wheels crunching on gravel.

I sat up straighter, eyes hardening as a Prius—a Prius—parked on the driveway. The headlights beamed directly onto me like a spotlight, and I lifted my hand to shield my eyes.

"Of course, this guy drives a fuckin' Prius," I grumbled, lowering my hand as soon as the car shut off.

It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness again, but I heard the doors open, followed by peals of laughter. Soft, melodic laughter that reminded me of summer days spent in the Holmes' backyard, having water balloon fights with Garrett, Brooks, and Isla. Something in my chest swelled at the memory, but it deflated as soon as I realized that she offered that beautiful laughter to another.

"I'm serious!" Isla argued jovially, clearly continuing a conversation from their time in the car. "You should give Throne of Glass a try. I actually think you'd like it!"

Her date, who wore long khaki pants and a tucked-in button-down shirt, rounded the Prius to join her. Neither of them appeared to have noticed me, which only disgruntled me further.

"Only if you try the Farseer trilogy," he quipped, his eyes never straying from her.

I couldn't blame him. She looked incredible. Plucked straight from any man's dreams.

Her honey locks fell in loose curls down to her waist, fanning behind her as they strode, side by side, to the front porch. She wore a yellow sundress that fit snuggly along her waist, accentuating her subtle curves, before fanning out into a flowing, short skirt. Beautiful.

"Deal," Isa chirped, and I stood.

Both of them flinched back as I wordlessly rose to my full height. Isla's hand flew to her chest, and her date emitted some garbled form of a swear.

"Heath?" Isla called in a higher octave than normal. Beneath her front porch's dim lamp that flickered by the door, I could just make out her wide eyes and cracked lips. "You just gave me a heart attack! What are you doing here?"

"I'm—" The words caught on my tongue. How could I explain that I'd heard through the grapevine that she'd planned on sleeping with this man on a first date? That I'd come to her front porch to, what, scold her?

Her date stared at me with a furrowed brow, clearly disturbed by my presence.

I resisted the urge to scowl at him and scoured my mind for a reasonable explanation, turning my attention back to Isla. Eventually, I settled on, "I came to fix your pipes. They still leaking?"