Page 22 of Seducing Sasquatch

Sucking in a deep lungful, Arden’s breath plumes in clouds as he speaks. “The wind will pick back up this afternoon.”

I quirk a brow. “How can you tell?”

Arden shuts the door behind us and treks down the steps, brushing away the piles of snow for me to easily follow without tripping.

“I can smell it.”

“You can smell the weather?” I ask, reaching the bottom step.

Taking my hand in his, Arden leads the way towards the shed, his footsteps leaving deep divots in the snow.

“It’s a mountain man thing.” He scoffs, and I find myself immediately rolling my eyes.

Of course it is. Not only can he chop wood, cook, and repair broken vehicles, but he can smell the weather. What can’t this man do?

Opening the door to the shed and flicking the light on, I’m met with an entirely new world.

Tools of all shapes and sizes sit organized on one wall with little hooks holding them in place. Lining the far side are benches and work spaces covered with manuals, hand towels and even more tools. But what catches my eye is the wall closest to me.

Countless photographs cover the entire wall from floor to roof. Lined with unique frames each photograph is like a little story. Smiling faces, candids, even some of vast landscapes I don’t recognize. But there’s one amongst the many that clearly is of Arden. He’s alone and young. Maybe my age but even then he has a beard. His toothy grin faces the camera with his hands on his hips and a deep valley behind him he looks like he’s standing at the top of the world.

A sad smile tugs at my lips. My mom had photo albums of me when I was young. She would bring it out every birthday and add a new photo. My father never liked photos on the walls; he called them tacky. And God forbid did he have the time to even be at my birthday to even be in any photos.

“This was when I hiked the highest peak in this mountain range. My parents live on that mountain.” Arden rests a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back to the present.

“You have so many photos.” I clear my throat, hating the way I feel as fragile as glass.

Sighing to himself, Arden steers me away from the photo wall. “Most are old now. I haven’t added any recent ones in a while.”

Pulling out a stool from the bench, Arden nudges me gently into it as he pulls away the tarp covering the snowmobile.

“Why not?” I ask, taking in the view of the machine. The entire body kit is gone with just the engine, handlebars and seat remaining. For a moment I have to remember what they look like normally.

“I don’t have anyone to share these memories with so I’ve been waiting to make new ones,” Arden explains, his back turned to me as he picks through a tool box.

My stomach jumps before it sinks into the floor beneath me. The flicker of hope leaves a painful scar as I realize he isn’t talking about me. Why would he? It’s not like Arden would want to spend the rest of his life with someone like me. Someone useless, who can never get anything right.

“You’re doing it again, sweet thing.” Arden’s rumbling voice echoes through the shed. “You think too much.”

“I do?”

Turning to face me with a screwdriver in his hand, Arden leans back against the bench, a smirk plastered across his lips.

“Yes, you do. And if it were up to me, I’d keep your brain empty of thoughts.” His words lick at my skin and this time a shiver darts down my spine, heating my flesh.

“How?” I chew my bottom lip, my eyes taking in the way his thick muscles press against his jacket.

Stepping carefully towards me, Arden’s arms cage me in as he leans forwards, his gaze boring into mine.

“By giving you things to do.” His lips are inches from mine, his body heat wraps around me and I can’t stop myself from leaning in. “Such as helping me fix this snowmobile.”

It’s my turn to grumble, which only causes Arden to chuckle. His hand ruffles my hair and I smack at him playfully.

“Come on, hiker. Let’s do something to take your mind off whatever is bothering you.”

Grateful he hasn’t asked me exactly what is on my mind, I follow Arden closely, watching as he begins unscrewing the engine. “Stop calling me hiker. My name is Blake.”

Looking out the corner of his eye with a grin, Arden nudges my side. “How about, sweet thing? You don’t seem to have a problem with that one.”