Page 11 of Devoted Mountain Man

“Sorry about your fiancée,” I said, mostly because I wanted to learn more about the situation.

How long ago was it? Just how heartbroken was he? Most importantly, was he over her?

He shrugged. Actually shrugged. That seemed like a sign he was over her.

“What about you?” he asked. “Boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband?”

He lowered his gaze to my left hand at the end of that. I had a feeling he’d already checked out that part of me. Or maybe he hadn’t. I was assuming he was as romantically interested in me as I was in him, but that was just going off this electricity I felt zinging in the air between us. Every time I looked at him, my insides got all warm and toasty. It was honestly like nothing I’d ever experienced, so if it was one-sided, I’d be super confused.

“No boyfriend,” I said. “Never had one…”

That finished on an awkward note. I was poised to add, “never will,” but in this case, that didn’t even make sense. Of course, I planned to have a boyfriend someday. Not just a boyfriend, but a husband, at least one kid, and a dog. I definitely wanted a dog.

“I find that surprising,” he said.

I was chewing a bite of steak, which wasn’t ribeye or sirloin. I didn’t know all the different cuts, so I had no idea what it actually was, but it was delicious.

I finished chewing and swallowed before asking, “Why’s that?”

“You’re stunning.” He gestured toward me, then shrugged again, looking down at his food as he scooped up a large forkful of eggs. “I just assumed there’d be a guy lurking around somewhere.”

“Thanks.”

I felt myself blush. I wasn’t used to being called stunning, and I definitely wasn’t used to being hit on, which was exactly what this felt like. God, I hoped he was hitting on me.

“I’ve never even kissed a guy,” I blurted.

Holy shit, why did I tell him that? That was the last thing I would’ve wanted him to know. I was twenty-three years old and as innocent as innocent could be. I’d missed out on every possible experience with guys—except going to prom with my best friend’s brother because nobody else asked me.

He stared at me, eyes narrowed again. This time, I felt a little skepticism.

“You’ve never kissed a guy?” he finally asked after staring at me for an uncomfortably long time.

This wasn’t the first time someone had handed me a heaping dose of disbelief when I mentioned my lack of experience. I got it. I had a hard time believing it myself.

“I’m a writer,” I said, as if that explained anything. “I’ve always been very shy. It kept me from putting myself out there.”

That was sort of true, but really, I knew guys just weren’t into me like they were into my friends. It had taken a while for my body to fill in just right, and my flat-chested, no-curves friends seemed to attract more guys than I did. It gave me a serious case of body image issues.

But once I hit my late teens, things blossomed in all the right places. I started getting looks, especially from older guys, but not anyone I was interested in. Until now. With Dayton, all the pieces seemed to fall into place.

He stared at me appreciatively, and I soaked in every glance. Yes, this was what I’d been looking for all my life.

The problem was his location. Did I really see myself giving up my life in Boone to move up here? If things worked out between the two of us, maybe. But it would take a whole lot more than a weekend to figure that out.

I knew one thing, though. I was ready to be kissed. And I wanted to be kissed by this guy.

“I have a favor to ask you,” I blurted. “I don’t want to impose, but I think this is something you might not mind doing.”

“What’s that?”

“Kiss me. Not right now. I need to go next door and brush my teeth. But I want my first kiss. And I want it to be with you.”

6

DAYTON

Sweet sixteen and never been kissed. I’d heard that term before, but sweet twenty-three and never been kissed? That was a surprise.

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