Piped Down: A Small-Town Mountain Man Romance by Nichole Rose

Author:Nichole Rose [Rose, Nichole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Caleb

Early morning sunlight filters through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the wooden floors of the cabin. As Sutton wanders around silently, taking in the simple, rugged charm of my place in the mountains, I can't help but watch her every move. Her hazel doe eyes widen in awe as she runs her fingers along the rough-hewn posts, her dimples deepening as her smile grows.

"You really built this place yourself?"

"Mmhmm," I hum.

"Wow," she whispers, awe in her voice.

I never thought I'd see someone look so perfect in my space. But everything feels alive and vibrant with Sutton here. She and Koda bring a warmth to this place that I never knew was missing. The crazy little pup bounces around at her feet, sniffing and growling at everything in his path.

I follow them as they explore, admiring the way the sunlight catches strands of Sutton's dark hair, illuminating them like burnished copper. The way she moves with such grace and curiosity makes me feel like I'm seeing my home for the first time through her eyes.

It's simple and uncomplicated, a refuge from the chaos and noise of the outside world. I needed that once upon a time. I came home from overseas with a mind at war, unable to settle. This place soothed me. It helped heal what war broke.

The crisp mountain air and fresh pine, mixed with the hint of wildflowers dotting the valley act like a balm for even the most restless soul. And God knows, mine was restless and raw back then.

I put my blood and sweat into constructing this place, pouring it into the foundation and shaping it into the walls. Somewhere along the way, it silenced the war in my mind.

The cabin isn't much, but every inch of it is mine.

When Sutton reaches the corner where my old guitar sits, she comes to a dead stop, slowly turning to look at me over her shoulder.

"You play?"

"Some." I bend to pick the guitar up, running my fingers over the old strings. They vibrate out of tune. It's been a while since I felt a need to play. "I picked it up after I returned from overseas."

"Are you any good?"

"Fuck no," I say with a chuckle. "The therapist suggested it. Said I needed something to do with my hands other than split wood all goddamn day. I saw the guitar in a shop window on my way home from our session and thought, what the hell?"

She grins, her eyes locked on the guitar. The way she looks at it…it's almost like she's itching to get her hands on it.

I hold it out to her. "You want to give it a try, Sunshine?"

"I…" Her hands actually flutter, her expression torn. She is dying to play. Fuck me. She's a musician. I should have guessed by now, I suppose. She's from Nashville. She's hiding out here, trying to keep a low profile, and she clearly doesn't want anyone to know who she is. All the signs point to her being famous.

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