To Claim the Mountain Man

Chapter 34

ISLA

An hour later, Heath drove me home. We walked to my front door, and he kissed me goodnight before returning to his mother's. He wanted to stay until morning, just in case, and I couldn't deny that I'd rather sleep in my own bed than the ragged, lumpy couch in the trailer's living room.

I could admit, that wasn't how I imagined the evening ending. Even so, I found myself feeling closer to Heath than ever before. So, when he texted me the following morning and asked if he could come over to continue building the bookshelves in my bedroom, I couldn't stop smiling from the moment he walked through the door.

With his toolbox in one hand and planks of wood tucked beneath the other arm, Heath marched through my cabin's old hallways like he owned the place. It was so unlike the first time he'd walked the halls of my new home, when his very presence set me on edge. Now, I couldn't wait to spend time alone with my brother's best friend.

"How is your mom doing?" I asked when we'd settled in my bedroom.

Heath set his toolbox near the existing bookshelf, eyeing the empty space above it with his hands on his hips. "She's hungover but better. Come to find out, her ex didn't steal anything. He simply showed up to take back the things that he'd bought with his own money."

"Ah. Still, that must've been upsetting for her," I reasoned. If her boyfriend came to move his items out of the house, it meant the end of a relationship. That couldn't have been easy for Shannon. "How long were they together?"

Heath shrugged a massive shoulder, not turning around to face where I sat on the edge of my bed. "A month. Maybe two?"

"You never met him?"

"My mom knows I disapprove of the men she dates, so she tries to keep us apart. Won't talk to me until they leave her, and she has no one else."

That familiar pang in my chest started up again. When I lived in New York, my mom called me atleastfour times a week. Even now, living ten minutes away from my parents, she still texted every morning and afternoon. In the past, her overbearing nature annoyed me, but, hearing Heath's story, I'd never complain again.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. "When did you move out?"

He bent to retrieve the tools from their box, and his voice was a low, distracted grumble. "Not too long after graduating high school."

So young.

"You bought the same cabin you're in now?"

"I rented it first, then bought it a few years later when the owner put it up for sale." He took a tape measure out of the box and lifted it toward the space above the existing bookshelf he'd installed. He set the tape measure aside and changed the topic of conversation just as swiftly. "Do you really have enough books to fill an entire wall?"

I smiled, tucking my knees beneath me. "If I don't, it'll just give me an excuse to buy more."

He chuckled, glancing over his shoulder. "You have a favorite?"

"Book?"

"Yeah," he mused, turning his attention back to the project in front of him. I loved this, casually spending time together. "What's the best book you've ever read?"

I blinked. It was an easy question and shouldn't have stumped me, but I didn't want to get it wrong. The options were limitless. "That depends. Do you want my real answer? Or the answer I give to people that I want to impress."

"The truth, Isles," Heath decided. "Always the truth."

I fingered the hem of my cotton athletic shorts and admired the way his muscles bunched beneath his t-shirt. "Then, I think it'd have to be Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas."