Mountain Boss: Mountain Men Series Book One
Mountain Boss: Chapter 36

Careful not to let go of the mattress, I pull the cabin door shut behind me.

It takes some maneuvering, but I get the mattress behind me, grip the sides, and then bend forward so I’m carrying it like a disproportionate turtle shell.

Retracing my steps, I stay as hidden as possible as I dodge low branches. And when I reach the edge of the woods, I stand still for a moment, listening. But since I don’t hear anyone, I break from my cover and stride across the driveway.

I don’t run into anyone, but by the time I’m at the front door of the Laundry Cabin, my lower back is about two steps away from spasming.

Lucky for me, there are three steps before I’m inside.

“This is your penance, you old fuck,” I grumble to myself with my forehead pressed against the door.

I should’ve put the mattress down and then opened the door. But… I’m a stubborn dumbass.

Shifting to the side, I tighten my grip with my left hand and let go of the mattress with my right.

The mattress immediately starts to slip, so I twist the doorknob as fast as possible and use my head to shove the door open as I reach back to stop the mattress from completely falling.

The weight tries to pull me back, so I bend forward even more.

But the width of the mattress is wider than the doorframe.

I stumble one step to the side and catch my balance before I fall off the edge of the damn stairs.

Focus.

Taking a breath, I stand up straighter, then angle myself so I’m shuffling sideways through the door.

As soon as I clear the threshold, I drop the mattress, letting the bottom edge fall to the floor, then flop against the dryers.

My phone chimes in my pocket with a text, and I take it as a sign to take a break.

Not that I need a break.

I could easily carry this mattress into the bedroom right now.

My muscles are barely even warm.

I kick the door shut as I read the text from Rocky, giving me the email address for his mattress guy.

And since I’m a man of action, I keep standing here as I type out an email with my purchase request.

I know it’s going to be a large expense, ordering more than thirty mattresses all at once. But Rocky mentioned that his guy would haul away the old ones for donation—if they’re not disgusting—so I might as well bite the bullet and do them all.

Plus, it’s an investment in my property.

Something I can advertise.

I’m not dropping a few thousand dollars just for Courtney.

My eyes raise toward her bedroom as I slide the phone back in my pocket.

I’m not going to leave the mattress here in the front room for her to struggle with.

I’m going to put it on the bunk for her.

But for that, I’ll need to move her clothes.

And if I move her clothes, do I fold them? Or spread them back on top of the mattress?

Reaching up, I pull the sheets and blanket off my shoulders, where I draped them like the world’s biggest scarf.

As I start to haul the bedding through the cabin, I wonder what her reaction will be to replaceing the mattress.

My first thought is wondering if she’ll be all sweet and smiley when she thanks me.

Because it’s not like she won’t notice it.

Even if she doesn’t see it until she’s climbing into bed, she’s going to know that I put a mattress onto her bare bunk.

I pause on the threshold, looking at the wooden bunk and the stepstool she uses to get onto it.

Of course she isn’t going to thank me.

She probably won’t bring it up at all.

I’m positive Courtney didn’t tell me in the first place because she thinks I did it on purpose. So me replacing the mattress now will probably make her think it was some fucked-up test. Some sort of trial to see if I could bully her out through inhumane sleeping conditions.

And why wouldn’t she believe that?

What sort of owner doesn’t know his own property?

I even opened the front door for her.

I opened the door but didn’t step inside.

Didn’t look at the conditions I was leaving her in.

But I’m looking now.

And anger wraps warm fingers around my neck as I stare at the rough edge of plywood running the length of the bunk.

“Fuck.”

I turn and storm back out of the cabin.