Searching for the Mountain Man - Page 4

“You’re not a working reporter?” Rob asked.

My attention shifted to him. I told myself it was surprise, not disapproval, that I sensed in his tone.

“I just graduated,” I said. “I was the top reporter at my college station, and I did an internship at the ABC affiliate in Nashville.”

In other words, I had the experience necessary to report on this story. But I had a feeling this guy wasn’t checking my credentials. Maybe I’d just boosted myself a little in his eyes. I wasn’t some reporter out to get a story. I was just trying to get work.

“I’ll talk to you,” the woman said, nodding toward the dog. “Do you want me to hold Angus while I do?”

“That would be great,” I said.

Rob drifted away as I pressed record and started talking to the woman. He and his stinky attitude about me being here vanished from my mind as I got caught up in the thrill of interviewing someone again.

It hadn’t been all that long. Just a couple of months since I filed my last report for our campus station. But I missed it more than I’d expected.

“Thank you,” I said, once we were done.

I stepped away from her and turned, camera still going. As I watched the screen, a face suddenly filled it. It was a gorgeous face, but it wasn’t a happy one. It held a scowl the size of Mount Everest.

I lowered the camera to make it clear I wasn’t interested in capturing Rob on video. But what did he expect when he was lurking behind me?

Before I could get a word out, he said, “Come with me.”

Why did I feel like a kid being scolded by a teacher? More importantly, why did I like it so much?

4

ROB

Iwas seeing red. Not figuratively, but literally. It was like my blood had boiled all the way up to my eyes.

But I was an expert at keeping my temper in check. I never took it out on anyone else. Just the punching bag in my garage. That was where I worked out all my frustrations.

Right now, my frustrations were directed at one person—the woman coming through that door. I’d led her to the trailer that had been set up as a holding area for the volunteer coordinators. It was empty right now, but someone could come in at any time.

That was notable because in addition to the blood-boiling rage, I was also battling an attraction to her. And that attraction had me holding myself back from lunging toward her and pulling her against me in a kiss that would curl her toes.

“What’s up?” Elisia asked, closing the door behind her as she stepped inside. “Oh wow, it feels good in here.”

The trailer was air-conditioned. I’d made a few stops in here yesterday, pretending I needed to pick something up or make a phone call just to get out of the heat for a minute or two.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“You told me you’re a reporter.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Did I say those words exactly?” When a few seconds passed without me answering, she straightened her head and said, “It doesn’t matter. I am a reporter. It’s what I’ve spent the past five years training to do.”

Damn, I wanted to kiss her. Those lips were full and pale pink. She’d taste so good. And then I’d slip my hands under that tank top and run them up toward her breasts, fondling her nipples through the cloth of her bra before finally getting frustrated and unclasping it.

“I thought you’d be relieved,” she said.

She crossed her arms over her chest, which was what really pulled me out of my fantasy. At least I hadn’t been gawking at her chest. That would be a dick move.

Had I missed some part of the conversation? “Relieved?”

“That I wasn’t sent here by some TV station,” she said. “Most of what I record here probably will never even get more than a few eyeballs on it.”

“Then what’s the point?” I asked.