Page 2 of Mountain Man Savior

Mouth hanging open like an idiot, my whole body shakes as I watch him wipe his face. “Sorry.” I say between shivers. Holding back a giggle as more rain replaces what I’d just sprayed on him, he gives me a sexy smirk, shuts the door. He rounds the front of the truck, gets in to the still running truck and peels out. “Hold on.” Another gruff command.

My savior raced up the mountain road like the devil himself was after us. And my good sense returns in a flash. I didn’t know this man. He could be one of those reclusive hermits the mountains were known for. Someone who swore off human connection, or worse. But somehow, I didn’t think so. The magnetic pull of his gaze when I lowered my window told me differently. In the microsecond between panic and action, I wasfilled with a burning, instant awareness that he was a protector, and special.

“Th-th-thank you. I don’t know what I was thinking?—”

“Because you weren’t?” His gruff voice and harsh words rang through the truck cab. But it did little to diminish the rising awareness I felt for him. “Lady, I’m not sure if you realize the severity of the situation. You were this close,” he pinches his thumb and forefinger together until they’re barely touching, “to becoming a statistic. If we weren’t so close to the lodge, I’d be taking you back to town.”

Sure, I may deserve to have my choices questioned because of the current road conditions, but I did not deserve to be lectured to like a teenager out on their first drive. But this wasn’t the time to argue. I began rubbing my arms to ward off the continued chill racking my body as it threatened to turn into hypothermia.

“Well. S-s-orry for being a bother.” My teeth chattered between each word. His tone doused my growing attraction. A good thing because right now, I couldn't care less about the neighborly niceties our area was known for. I voted for surviving this debacle without getting pneumonia over manners. “Is there a blanket or something I could use?”

Reaching into the backseat, he snagged a bag and tossed it onto my lap. “There’s a towel in there.”

Swearing under his breath, he hit the dials and switches on the truck’s dashboard. His large hand hovering over the vent until blessed warm air filled the cab. He tossed his hat into the backseat, then turned toward me, and I got my first full-on look at his features. Eyes still narrowed, a frown that hadn’t changed and thinned out lips that did nothing to take away from his rugged good looks.

And darn it, as I sat there soaked to the bone, a new growing need grew. To find out how his lips would feel against mine. Lipsthat I’d glimpsed when he wasn’t frowning, were full and soft looking. Maybe the only soft spot on his hard body. I snapped my gaze forward to stare out the windshield.Where had that thought come from?

Sure, he could be a serial killer or felon in hiding. And yeah, maybe I’d been watching too many true crime shows. Criminal or not, he was devastatingly handsome. With another quick sideways glance at all those muscles outlined by his still drenched t-shirt had me thinking otherwise. Alright hoping. Call it intuition or whatever, I sensed he had nothing but good intentions underneath all his bluster. And I had a feeling once he smiled, if he smiled, I’d be a goner.

Clearing his throat broke the spell we’d both had weirdly fallen under. “The heater will get you warm, but you also need to get dry, and then you can explain why you’re on my mountain all alone after nightfall.”

Don’t think I didn’t hear him refer to the mountain as his. Who own’s a mountain? Someone’s a bit territorial. I know for a fact no one owns Pineville Mountain. My mom and stepdad’s place is lower on the mountain, and they pay taxes to the city, just like everyone else.

I used the towel to wring out as much water from my hair as I could, but it’s not large enough to do much good for my clothes. Still shivering, I manage to speak without too much trouble now that the cab had warmed.

“I appreciate your help. But I have a meeting with Ridge Beauchamp at the Triple R Lodge. If you could drop me off, then I won’t be your problem anymore. I’ll call a tow service for help with the van. Sorry I inconvenienced you. I’d be happy to pay for a tank of gas for helping me out, so kindly.” I can’t remember the last time I’d sounded so, as my grandmother called it, snippy.

Maybe I shouldn’t have antagonized him, but really, he’d asked for it by calling melady. His tone well, snippy. Ugh,why couldn’t he have been one of those old, grizzled mountain men? I mean, how unlucky was I to be rescued by someone who looked downright lickable, while I more than likely looked like a drowned rat?

TWO

WEST

“There’sno need for that. I was headed back to the lodge, anyway.”Shit, this was the caterer Ridge had an appointment with?

My dick and my good sense were at war. Have been since the moment she rolled down her window, blinking away the rain from her long eyelashes. She’s so beautiful. I swear my heart stopped for a few seconds.

And for as long as I live, I will never forget the way she felt against me when I tucked her in close. Curves just perfect for a big man like me to grab, caress and to worship.

Several miles pass in silence before I pull up to the lodge, turn off the engine. Unsure of what to say next, now that the adrenaline had fled, all I felt was a need to not let her from my sight. But I needed to fess up to who I was.

“It looks a mess now, but you should have seen it a couple of years ago when I first got here when I moved back. And don’t worry, those blue tarps are covering equipment, notbodies.” Stepping out of the truck, I don’t wait for her reaction. Hopefully, she picked up on the humor in my voice.

Pushing down my attraction to this woman with the wild eyes and sweet-smelling hair, I open the passenger door and hold out my hand. A crack of thunder fills the air quickly, followed by a flash of white that lights up the surrounding forest of Ponderosa pines.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better, sweetheart, so I need you to trust that I’m one of the good guys. Take my hand. It’s a quick run to the porch.”

Clutching her purse, she slipped out of the useless sandals then tents the wet towel over her head as she jumps down onto the muddy ground. Grabbing her hand, we jog to the wraparound porch and race up the steps to the front door.

Leading her inside, I say, “I’ll get a fire going. There’s a generator for the lights and heat if we lose electricity, but this will get you warmed up quicker instead of waiting for the furnace to kick in.” Pointing to the small couch next to the fireplace, I leave her standing in the entryway, her eyes wide as saucers.

What did she see? I knew what the great room looked like, but she would be the first woman in the space after months of contractors traipsing through and Ridge, Lars and I had been doing the finishing work.

The odd assortment of furniture included a past its prime sectional sofa and two brand new leather recliners we were able to purchase with a grant from the government. The plan was to open our doors next month once we hired her, or rather, a caterer and someone to manage housekeeping.

There were three of us running the Triple R Lodge. We were all retired from the Army and had served together in the same ranger unit. This was my uncle’s old hunting lodge, and we’d added a wing of sleeping rooms we’d just finished after twoyears, as well as framing out each of our individual cabins east of the main building. It was all coming together.

The dining area still had mismatched chairs around the large table I had just finished building out of walnut and oak, along with my table saw and tools stacked up against the far wall.

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