Page 8 of Oops I Fell For The Mountain Man Next Door

By noon, we're laughing like we've known each other for years as we walk through a mountain town where no one recognizes me. I spend thirty dollars at the arcade just to win her a ridiculous stuffed moose.

"It's hideous." Lana pokes the moose in the nose.

"You love it." I pinch the moose’s antler.

"I absolutely love it." Lana holds him tight against her chest, and for the first time in my life, I can say I’m jealous of a stuffed moose.

At lunch, I realize that today is supposed to be my wedding day. I wait for regret—it doesn't come. Instead, I look at Lana across the table and feel relieved.

Relief isn’t supposed to look like dark eyes, a teasing smile, or a woman hugging a ridiculous stuffed moose. But for me, it does.

"Stay another day." The words rush out. We never discussed how long we planned to stay together, but for some reason I need her with me for at least one more day.

Her smile fades. "Marx."

"One more."

"You were supposed to get married today." The reminder hangs heavy between us.

"I know."

"Maybe you need some time alone."

"Maybe." I let the word hang in the air and watch her face.

"But?" Lana lifts her chin and holds my gaze.

"I'd rather spend it with you." I meet her gaze and don’t look away.

She studies me before answering, saying, "One more day."

"One more." I draw a careful breath and say the words neither of us believes. One more day with Lana will never be enough.

five

Lana

One more day becomes another, and another, until it’s been almost a week together in our own little mountain paradise. On day six, Marx and I decide to go on a hike—he’s not very good at it, but at least he’s not complaining. When he takes off his flannel and ties it around his waist, I notice that even city guys can have shoulders that seem made for the mountains. I also curse the fact that he bought T-shirts and isn’t going topless like I’ve come to enjoy.

Trying to think about something other than Marx’s happy trail, I ask, "Could you live somewhere like this?"

"Maybe." He picks up a rock and skips it across the lake, almost like a pro. "I don't need the city."

"You’re wearing a watch that probably costs more than my car." I glance at his wrist. He follows my gaze, then takes it off. "What are you doing?" Instead of answering, he throws it into the trees. "Marx!" I jump up to run after it, but he grabs my hand and stops me. "That was expensive.”

"I hated it." Marx holds my gaze, his fingers flexing at his sides.

"You could have sold it." I hold his gaze and refuse to back down.

"Didn't think of that." He shrugs.

The absurdity of the situation makes me laugh so hard that my stomach aches. When his hand touches my cheek, my laughter fades. His eyes drop to my mouth, and my heart races faster than it did climbing the mountain.

If I kiss him, I can’t keep pretending this is harmless.

"Marx." I take a deep breath and make myself stay still.

"Tell me to stop." Marx steps closer, his eyes locked on mine.