Page 4 of Fearless Mountain Man

“Haunted ski lift.” A smile tugged at my lips. “Now that’s something I need to see.”

“You’ll have to stick around. Where exactly are you from?”

I opened my mouth to answer but had to pause when the server showed up to take Carter’s drink order. I was still nursing the same glass of white wine I’d ordered when I sat down. I’d mostly been sipping from the water she’d brought.

Carter ordered a beer, and as the server walked away, he sat back. He hadn’t even glanced at the menu yet.

“Vegas,” I said. “That’s where I live. Well, just outside of it. But my listings are usually limited to Nevada.”

This particular client had worked with me for a couple of years and knew I got things done. I should tell Carter that. It would establish me as respected in my field. I was only twenty-three, so it wasn’t like I had decades of experience, but it had started as something I did part-time, making very little money the first couple of years while I worked as a bartender on the strip.

After getting my real estate license, I’d made my first sale. That led to a referral that eventually got me my second. It hadn’t been easy, but until a few months ago, I’d made enough to comfortably do it full-time. I needed this particular sale, or I might have to go back to bartending—at least part-time.

“Must be a wild place to live,” he said.

I shrugged. “It’s like anywhere else once you get out of the city. I rent a small condo in a subdivision. Aside from the ridiculously hot weather, it’s not all that different.”

Well, there were a lot of differences. Las Vegas was flat, while this place was the opposite. Of course, there were plenty of mountain towns out west, but Seduction Summit had a unique charm, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. The air was crisper. The people friendlier. The sky even seemed bluer—as ridiculous as that sounded, even coming through my own brain.

“Plenty of land for sale around here,” he said. “I can help you find the perfect lot.”

I flashed my trademark smile with a tilt of the head and said, “You say that like I’m not going to be able to convince you to sell.”

I’d used that exact head tilt and smile on countless prospective clients over the years. Not once had it felt like flirting. But with Carter, it did. It also felt like it wasn’t going to land the same way it had with anyone else.

He didn’t budge. His features didn’t soften, his shoulders didn’t lower. He was tense and on alert. He didn’t even have to say or do a thing—it was clear he was in control of this situation.

“I love things just the way they are on Grizzly Pond.”

My eyebrows lifted. “Grizzly Pond?”

Was that what it was called? Nobody had told me that yet.

“That’s the name I gave it,” he said. “It’s caught on with the others who live around it. Mostly loggers. I guess you haven’t checked out the area where all the cabins are packed in.”

“I have,” I said with a nod. “Not a decent strip of land available. And none of them have your view, anyway.”

That was true. The pond was massive, but his area was the only one that looked out over the pond with the mountains beyond.

“I can take you for a ride around the pond if you want,” he said. “Boats aren’t allowed. But I have one of those too. It’s just stored at a facility in Adairsville. I take it out when I want to fish.”

He owned a boat that he used on a waterway that wasn’t the one behind his house. This guy definitely had money. Or he was just really into toys.

But what was interesting about him was he didn’t come across like he was loaded. I’d never been into guys with lots of money, but I could easily be into this guy. He was humble. He just liked his toys. He worked hard, played hard, and swam naked.

I almost smiled at that last one. But it also did something to me. It brought that familiar heat between my legs. It was familiar only because I’d been feeling it—off and on—since first spotting him swimming in that lap pool.

“Your boat is in a different city,” I said. “How are you going to take me for a ride around the pond?”

“My motorized kayak. Kayaks and canoes are allowed. The pond is too small for bigger boats.”

“That sounds interesting. I’ve never been much of an outdoorsy person, but throw in some wine and I’m in.”

Why I mentioned wine, I wasn’t sure. This one glass would normally be more than enough. But suddenly, the idea of sitting on a small watercraft at night with a bottle of wine and a gorgeous lumberjack sounded like the most decadent thing I could do.

It also might be a great way to bond with him and convince him to sell. Yeah, I’d probably continue to lie to myself and say this was all about business. But bonding with a lumberjack on a small watercraft at night had very little to do with making a sale—and everything to do with what was going on with my body right now.

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