Page 6 of My Tempting Mountain Man

Moonlight spills through the window, casting gentle silver shadows over Everly’s peaceful form beneath my quilt. She sleeps curled on her side, breathing slow and steady, a cascade of soft hair fanning out across my pillow. My heart squeezes painfully. She looks perfect there, vulnerable and inviting.

Shaking the thought away, I carefully climb into bed, trying to keep the mattress from shifting beneath my weight.

Everly stirs instantly, eyes fluttering open in startled surprise. She sits up quickly, clutching the quilt to her chest. "Liam?"

"Sorry," I murmur, my voice low and rough. "I didn't mean to wake you. I can't sleep on that couch. It’s too small."

She blinks sleepily, then nods, slowly relaxing. "Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. I'm sorry—I didn't even think about how uncomfortable you'd be. Here, let me take the couch?—"

"No," I interrupt sharply. "Absolutely not. You're staying right here. It's fine. I promise I'll keep to my side."

"Are you sure?" Her voice is barely a whisper, soft and tentative.

"Positive," I assure her gently, heart hammering in my chest. I settle onto my back, arms rigidly at my sides, trying to ignore how close she is, how her warmth seeps into the sheets between us.

For a long moment, neither of us moves or speaks. The air is thick with unspoken words and tension. Finally, Everly breaks the silence.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You can try," I reply quietly, glancing sideways to find her eyes watching me intently.

"Why do you hide up here? Alone, away from everyone?" she asks softly, curiosity mingled with concern.

I stiffen instinctively, walls rising higher. This isn't a conversation I'm ready to have—not with her, not with anyone. "Because I prefer being alone."

"Why?" she presses gently, not backing down. Her voice remains calm and soothing, an undeniable comfort.

I swallow hard, emotions twisting painfully in my chest. "People hurt each other, Everly. It’s safer to keep away."

She’s quiet for a heartbeat, absorbing my words. "Is that what happened to you? Someone hurt you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I say roughly, trying to keep my voice steady, neutral. "Not tonight."

"Okay," she murmurs softly, understanding clear in her tone. "But if you ever do, I'm here."

The sincerity in her voice tears at my defenses. My heart aches to reach out, to touch her, to allow her warmth and kindness tobreak through the cold loneliness I’ve carefully built around me. But I hold back, clenching my fists in restraint.

"You shouldn't say things like that," I whisper hoarsely, eyes fixed stubbornly on the ceiling. "You don't know me."

"I'd like to," she replies softly. Her fingers brush mine beneath the sheets, tentative and feather-light.

Fire sparks through my veins at her touch, need flaring bright and hot. I turn toward her involuntarily, our eyes locking. Her breath catches softly, eyes wide and luminous in the dim moonlight.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for," I warn, voice thick with desire.

She swallows, cheeks flushing beautifully. "Maybe I don’t. But maybe I want to."

I groan softly, fighting every instinct screaming at me to claim her, taste her, hold her close. "Everly, I’m older than you. You deserve someone better—someone easier."

Her fingers boldly slide over mine, interlacing our hands. "What if I don’t want easier?"

I stare at our joined hands, heart pounding mercilessly in my chest. The warmth of her skin against mine is intoxicating, addictive. Dangerous.

"Liam," she whispers, shifting closer. Her soft curves brush against my side, and I nearly come undone. "Just tonight, let yourself feel. Let me in."

My control snaps. With a groan of surrender, I roll toward her, cupping her face tenderly. Her lips part slightly, eyes darkening with desire and trust.

"You’re sure?" I rasp, thumb brushing gently over her bottom lip.

---