Take Me To The Cliff

He's hiding from his past, she is running from hers. No one would could have guessed their pasts would collide in the Montana Mountains...

Sage

I need a safe place to get away for a few days. My college roommate's family cabin in the middle of nowhere Montana is perfect.

Maybe I should have called to ask permission first, then I would have found out the cabin had been sold... to Jack.

I go to leave planning to spend the night in my car... only my car won't start.

Jack may take pity on me and offer to let me stay a few nights until my car is fixed, but he doesn't know I have no place to go from there.

I won't be safe anywhere.

But my past catches up with me all too quickly in the small Montana town and now I'm out of time...

Jack

I finally got my own cabin in the Whiskey River mountains.

Only it wasn't supposed to come with a curvy temptress in my living room.

I'm unsure of her intentions until I see the bruises on her skin.

I vow whoever put them there will pay, I will protect this woman at costs.

Only I never could have guessed how truly entwined our pasts really are and now I know I'm the last person who she should feel safe with.

Even if she is the only person who can truly pull me from the darkness...

Chapter 1
Jack
I did it.
I can't believe I finally did it.
After years of having the mountain men sell their items in my shop and envying their lifestyle, I’m now the proud owner of a cabin up on the mountain. I moved everything in, and today, I come home from town to my cabin for the first time.
I take a minute to admire it before heading inside. It needs some work, and it'll be a few years before I'm truly self-sufficient. But I'm up for the task and know Axel, Phoenix, Cash, Cole, and Bennett will have my back if I need anything.
Since it’s so remote, I don’t lock the door. No one knows this place exists because the driveway is easy to miss if you don't know where to look. If I'm honest, that was a huge part of its appeal.
When I enter, I’m surprised that the living room light is on. I don't remember leaving it on, but anything's possible. It’s so quiet out here that I overslept and rushed out of the house this morning. I had to check on the shop and ensure my old place was cleaned before I returned the keys to my landlord.
I head to the kitchen to start dinner but pull up short at the sight of a curvy brunette in sweatpants and a tank top sitting on my couch.
Fuck. She's gorgeous. Her damn tank top is almost see-through. Who sent her here? Whoever it was, they knew what they were doing because she’s a vision.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I wouldn't usually cuss in front of a woman, but I’m caught off guard.
"I could ask you the same thing. This isn't your cabin," she says, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch to cover herself.
"As of a couple of days ago, I can assure you it is. I’ll ask again. Who are you?" I widen my stance and cross my arms. I don't feel threatened by her, but I want to make it clear I'm not playing around.
I used to be a criminal lawyer, and I know the traps the opportunists set, including using beautiful young women as distractions.
"This is Greg's cabin. He told me I could use it anytime I want."
She's right; it was Greg's cabin, but I bought it from him last week. Greg is an old geezer who can't make it up the mountain anymore.
And why is this conversation making me as hard as fucking nails?
"How do you know Greg?"
"He’s my college roommate's uncle."
Greg never had kids, but he was the eldest of ten, all of whom went on to have children of their own. The last time I talked to him, he had something like thirty-six nieces and nephews.
"Greg sold me this cabin last week. He was getting too old to come up here. You'll have to find somewhere else for your little woodsy vacation," I tell her, ready to throw her out.
The last thing I need is some college kid thinking she can have a party up here with her friends. I wonder if Greg knew what the plans for his place were.
She stands, and I think she's going to grab her stuff, but she looks around, folds up the blanket, and sets it on the back of the couch. That's when I notice the bruises on her arm in the shape of a handprint.
When she turns back to face me, she has tears in her eyes, and her mouth trembles. "I'm sorry I bothered you. I didn't know Greg had sold the place, and I needed to get away and figure a few things out. Let me get changed, and I'll get out of your way. Though I have no idea where to go," she sighs, walking toward the hallway where the bedrooms are.
Hell, I shouldn't want a stranger in my house, and certainly not as badly as I want her. Thinking over what she said, I put the pieces together. She's hiding from the person who put those bruises on her arm. Whoever she’s hiding from sure as hell does not want to meet me or my friends. We don't take kindly to men putting their hands on women.
If I hadn't had to turn in my keys, I'd take her there and let her stay for a few nights to get back on her feet. But that isn't an option now.
I don't need to invite trouble into my life, not now, with everything going so well. But I need to ensure she’s taken care of and will be safe.
A few minutes later, she steps out in jeans and a sweater that hugs her curves. Dammit, if I don’t want to ride to my death on those curves.
A voice in the back of my head tells me I'd be an idiot to let her walk away. Yet that's precisely what I plan to do.

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