Page 5 of Mountain Rancher

The air between us practically sizzles.

For a split second, I consider closing the distance between us so I can taste those lips again and show her exactly what I mean instead of telling her. But before I can move, Abigail takes a sudden step backward.

Instantly, she winces.

“Easy, baby.” I guide her to a nearby boulder and ease her down gently. “Let me look at that ankle.”

I kneel in front of her and carefully take her boot off and roll down her sock.

Shit.

The ankle’s already swelling.

“Abby, what are you even doing up here?” I ask even though I already know the answer.

Wyatt mentioned she was flying in, and I’ve been watching the skies like a damn teenager waiting for her arrival.

“I’m in town for Jace and Lindsay’s couple shower.” She hisses when I hit a tender spot. “I thought I could handle this trail, but...” She gestures helplessly at her ankle.

“It’s definitely sprained.” I roll her sock back up but leave the boot off. “I’m carrying you back down.”

Abigail’s eyes pop wide. “Hunter, no. I’m too heavy!”

I snort as I look her over from head to toe. “I bench press calves that weigh more than you, city girl.”

Her cheeks flush pink, and she opens her mouth like she’s about to argue before thinking better of it.

“Fine,” she says reluctantly. “But only because I don’t see another option.”

I scoop her up easily, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back. She’s light, just as I expected, and fits against my chest perfectly.

“Hold on to my neck, baby,” I instruct.

Abigail hesitates. Then, finally, she wraps her arms around me.

As we start to head back down, I keep my eyes focused straight ahead. Because if I look at her now, with her lips just inches from mine, I’ll be done for.

I’ve known Abigail Clayton since we were kids. I was Brody’s friend first and was always at their house, always orbiting the Clayton family like a moon caught in their gravity. They took me in after my dad died and my mom left, and made me feel like I belonged somewhere when I had nothing.

Abigail always tagged along with Brody and me, and her blonde curls bounced as she tried to keep up on those skinny legs. Even at twelve, she was beautiful, all big blue eyes and a smile that lit up her whole face. Smart as a whip too, always with her nose in some book twice the size of what other kids were reading.

By the time she was sixteen and I was nineteen, I was completely gone for her.

She’d grown into those long legs and started filling out her shirts in ways that made my mouth dry. But she was Brody’s little sister. Off-limits. Sacred.

When she left for college and then took that fancy corporate job in Houston, I told myself it was for the best. I dated other women. Moved to Montana for a bit. Tried to move on.

But no one ever measured up.

No one had Abigail’s laugh or tilted their head the way she does when she’s thinking hard about something.

Ever since Wyatt called to tell me she was coming back from Houston, I’ve spent the last two weeks wondering when I’d run into her. Imagining what I’d say. How casual I’d be.

I never imagined I’d get to feel her in my arms.

After all these years, Abigail’s more stunning than I remembered. Her face has matured from pretty to gorgeous, with high cheekbones, full lips, and those same piercing blue eyes that see right through me. Her curves filling out her hiking clothes, the way her jeans hug her ass, how her round tits press against my chest with each step I take.

“Hunter?” Her voice snaps me back to the present.

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