Page 4 of My Tempting Mountain Man

I run a hand roughly through my hair, shaking off the unwanted thoughts. Everly is trouble—the kind of trouble I’ve carefully avoided for years. Yet here she is, invading my quiet retreat, captivating me without even trying.

This storm better pass quickly. Because the last thing I need is this girl making herself comfortable in my life.

3

Everly

I close the bathroom door behind me, leaning against it for a second to catch my breath. I hadn’t realized how cold I was until now. I shiver violently, dropping the sodden blanket to the floor and peeling the soaked sundress from my skin. The fabric sticks stubbornly, clinging like an unwelcome reminder of my unexpected adventure.

Adventure.

I can’t help but smile as I step out of the dress. I never imagined my relaxing yoga retreat would start off with a stormy rescue by a grumpy, rugged mountain man. But now that I’m here, shivering in Liam’s bathroom, I can’t deny there’s a strange thrill racing through my veins.

Liam.

I shake my head, fighting another smile. He’s been nothing but short with me—borderline rude even—but there’s something undeniably captivating about him. Maybe it’s the mysterious edge, the quiet intensity behind those stormy eyes. Or maybe it’show impossibly strong his hands looked gripping the steering wheel. A blush rises hotly to my cheeks at the thought, and I quickly shake it away.

"Get a grip, Everly," I whisper to myself, glancing around the tiny bathroom. It’s simple, clean, and neat, just like the rest of his cabin. Everything here is practical and sturdy—just like him.

I step toward the sink, turning the faucet on and splashing warm water onto my chilled face. I glance up, meeting my reflection. My cheeks are flushed, hair wild and tangled from the rain, eyes bright with excitement. I’ve never been great around men, especially someone as intimidatingly attractive as Liam. Awkwardness seems to follow me everywhere, usually resulting in an uncontrollable stream of nervous chatter.

Just thinking about it makes me cringe inwardly. No wonder he seemed eager to escape my company.

A knock at the door startles me. I jump, heart racing. "Yes?"

"Your suitcase," Liam's deep voice rumbles through the thin door.

"Oh! Yes, please. Thank you!" I crack the door open just enough to peek out.

Liam stands close, holding my suitcase easily in one strong hand. He towers over me, dark brows furrowed, eyes guarded. Heat crawls up my neck again, and I stammer, "Uh, thanks for grabbing it. Sorry for all the trouble."

"Not your fault," he replies gruffly, extending the suitcase toward me. Our fingers brush lightly as I take it, and an electric jolt sparks through me. I swear I hear a low growl deep in his throat, his eyes flickering darker for a heartbeat.

"Thank you," I whisper again, unable to break his gaze.

He clears his throat abruptly, pulling his hand back like he’d been burned. "I’ll, uh, make us something to eat. Come out when you're dry."

"Sounds great," I squeak.

He nods sharply, turning quickly on his heel and stalking away.

I shut the door softly, pressing my forehead against the cool wood and taking a steadying breath. What is it about him? I’ve barely spent an hour in his company, yet my body reacts as though he’s someone significant, someone dangerous and thrilling.

Sighing, I open my suitcase, grateful at least my clothes inside are mostly dry. I quickly towel myself off with a spare towel I find folded neatly on the shelf, then pull on a fresh sundress—this one a bit warmer, with longer sleeves and thicker fabric. I finger-comb my hair and apply a bit of lip balm, feeling marginally more human.

Steeling myself with a deep breath, I step out of the bathroom, suitcase in hand. Liam stands by the kitchen counter, shoulders tense as he stirs something in a pot on the stove. The scent is warm and inviting—something hearty and comforting.

"Smells great," I say softly, setting my suitcase down by the couch.

He glances up, gaze softer but still wary. "It’s just soup. Nothing fancy."

"Well, considering I thought I’d be stuck eating energy bars all night, soup sounds gourmet right now."

A ghost of a smile flickers at his lips, surprising me. "You always so easily impressed?"

I shrug, a playful grin tugging at my mouth. "Only when I’m stranded on mountains with strangers."

"Fair enough." He ladles soup into two bowls, setting them on the small kitchen table.

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