Bucked: The Mountain Man's Babies(5)

“Why did she open a diner then?”

“There was already a gas station and bar in town. She took what was left.”

Buck leans against the counter, watching me fire up the grill, then cracking eggs, whisking flour and salt together, adding a cup of milk. I chop the potatoes, and turn on the deep fryer.

“You don’t need a recipe book?” he asks.

I shake my head, smiling for real, which is something my face barely remembers how to do. “I don’t have a ton of marketable skills, but I do know how to cook.”

He nods. “You don’t need to know how to do everything, just one thing well, that’s what I always say.”

“And what do you do, Buck?” I ask, raising my eyes to his as I melt a pat of butter on the large grill.

“I carve wood with a chainsaw. Large sculptures. I also hunt and fish, but every man out here does that.”

I wasn’t expecting him to tell me he is an artist, but I notice his strong forearms, his large hands, his broad shoulders, muscles straining the seams and I can imagine the strength he must wield to use a chainsaw.

“That’s incredible,” I tell him. “I’d love to see your work.”

“Well, my cabin’s hard to miss. You take a left off the highway at Eagle Canyon, and a mile up is a marker for my place. A massive, carved bald eagle is perched out on the gravel road.”

“Impressive,” I tell him, pouring circles of batter on the hot grill, then cracking a few eggs, watching them sizzle next to the pancakes. I drop the chopped potatoes in the fryer and let them snap, crackle, and pop.

“This is pretty damn impressive too, Rosie.” Buck takes a step toward me, and I inhale, feeling his presence behind me. Close behind me. I have an urge to arch my back ever so slightly, putting my ass in a more prominent view. I may want that, but I don’t have the guts to put myself out there.

I’m a virgin who’s never so much as been kissed.

But damn, I’ve spent plenty of nights with my hands between my thighs, tempted to press a finger deep inside of me, imagining a real man taking me to bed, spreading my legs, and marking me as his. But I have never so much as gotten myself off.

I’ve always wanted to save everything I could for the man who made me his own.

Then I remember my uncle is coming for me. How my virginity is the prize that will up the price he can get for me.

And I realize that if I were no longer “pure” in his eyes maybe he wouldn’t want to sell me at all. Maybe I would be worthless.

Maybe I would be free.

I flip a pancake.

And arch my back.

Bite my bottom lip, and look at Buck with a desire that is not only real, but also palpable.

His for the taking.

“Those look about ready to burn.” Buck juts his chin toward the deep fryer where the potatoes are sizzling.

“Oh, you’re right,” I say, blinking back my distraction. I raise the basket, letting the grease drip off the fried potatoes, and then grab a few plates from the shelf. “Your mom said I could eat on the job.”

“You don’t need to explain nothing to me, Rosie. I’m just pretty fucking glad I decided to come to town for lunch.”

“Oh, yeah?” I plate the pancakes, fried eggs, and the hash browns. I turn off the hot grill and the fryer while Buck grabs us a few mugs of coffee.#p#分页标题#e#

“Sugar? Cream?”

“Both,” I tell him, marveling at the simple fact that the guy asked how I liked my coffee. My uncle never cared what I liked.

I swallow, realizing I waited way too long to run away.

We sit in the corner booth and pour maple syrup on our pancakes. I watch him add hot sauce to his hash browns, salt and pepper on his eggs, the way he sips his black coffee. I am memorizing him and feel my cheeks redden as he catches me staring.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude,” I tell him, taking a bite of pancake. He is eating quickly, clearly hungry. “It’s just, you’re really easy to be around. Does anyone tell you that?”

Buck raises an eye. “Not many people come around these parts, Rosie.”

“So you don’t have a woman at home?”

He sets down his coffee, no trace of a smile left on his face and my heart stops. Maybe I read him all wrong; maybe I am a fool with no experience in the real world. Maybe Buck has a girlfriend or wife at home, in that cabin of his in the woods.

“You think I’d be looking at you like this, like I want to push all these plates off this table and take you right here, right now, if I had a woman at home?”

I manage to eek out a no, but I can hardly make a sound. My pussy is suddenly wet with desire, suddenly stirred from sleep. Suddenly wanting Buck to do just what he is imagining.