Page 4 of Seduced By the Mountain Man

I watched Delaney Shaw flee my massage room like her ass was on fire and couldn't help grinning. She'd always been skittish around me—at least until Jackson Hole, when she'd sauntered up to the hotel bar in that midnight blue dress and said, "I'm not eighteen anymore, Jace. And you're not my brother's shadow tonight."

Christ, she'd nearly knocked me sideways.

The memory slammed into me as I tidied bottles that didn't need tidying. Delaney's skin had tasted like vanilla and whiskey. Her laugh when I'd lifted her against the wall—half surprise, half hunger—had driven me crazy. The way she'd curled against me afterward, breathing slowing as sleep took her, like she belonged there.

Then morning came, and panic with it. I'd stared at her sleeping form—chestnut hair spread across my pillow, freckles visible in early light—and all I could think was:Tyler would kill me.

My oldest friend. The guy who'd given me work when Mom couldn't make ends meet. Who'd trusted me around his little sister for over a decade.

So I'd run. Left her sleeping and sent that goddamn text.

Six months later, those three words burned like acid:This never happened.

I locked the massage room and headed across the grounds to my cabin. Late afternoon sun turned Hope Peak Lake into molten gold. Guests dotted the shore, soaking up perfect Montana summer. A few kayakers glided across the water, tiny against pine-covered mountains.

My place sat at the property's edge where manicured grounds gave way to wilderness. Nothing fancy—one bedroom, small porch facing the lake—but it was mine for the season. Ruth had offered it as part of the deal when she hired me to launch the adventure program.

Inside, I stripped off the massage polo and grabbed my official gear from the closet. Quick-dry shorts and another logo shirt that showcased the build I'd earned from years outdoors. Ruth insisted on uniforms, claiming they made staff easier to spot. I'd rolled my eyes but complied.

As I changed, I admitted what I'd been avoiding since seeing Delaney's name on the booking system: I'd rearranged everything to lead her group's activities. Even volunteered for Bethany's massage shift when I learned about Delaney's appointment.

I should have stayed away. Tyler was still my best friend. If he knew what happened in Jackson Hole—what I was contemplating now—it could destroy everything.

But something about Delaney had always pulled me like gravity. From the first time I noticed her as more than Tyler'sannoying little sister—the summer she turned twenty-one and came home with confidence and curves her sundresses couldn't hide—I'd been fighting that pull.

For six years, I'd kept my distance. Been the dutiful friend, the polite acquaintance. Then came Jackson Hole, when careful boundaries crumbled after one dance, one touch, one whispered invitation.

I grabbed a water bottle and stepped onto my porch. The sun was starting its descent toward the mountains, painting everything gold. Six months of torture, wondering if I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Torn between loyalty to Tyler and the fact that I couldn't get his sister out of my head.

Last month, Tyler had called. We'd talked about work, his latest development project, summer plans. Then he'd said, almost casually, "If you ever got serious about someone, I'd want to hear about it. You're family, man."

"Where's that coming from?" I'd asked, startled.

"Just thinking. Life's short, and we're getting older. Don't let the good stuff pass you by."

I couldn't make sense of it then. Now, with Delaney here, those words kept echoing. Had he suspected something? Was it permission?

Five days. I had five days to figure out if what I felt was worth the risk. To see if she felt anything beyond anger. To decide if I was brave enough to face the consequences.

Five days to find out if she could forgive me.

***

The next morning dawned clear and hot. I arrived at the activities center early, checking equipment with Matt, my assistant guide. Good kid—twenty-five, eager, with encyclopedic wildlife knowledge that impressed even jaded guests.

"Full group for paddleboarding today," Matt said, loading life vests onto the cart. "Including those women from the lakeside cabin."

"Yeah," I kept my voice neutral.

"The redhead was at the bar last night. Amber? Said they're celebrating their friend's promotion."

I nodded, not sharing my connection with Delaney. Better to keep that to myself, at least until I could figure things out.

By nine, the meeting area filled with guests in swimwear and sunglasses, chattering about the day ahead. I scanned the crowd, immediately finding Delaney in back. She was trying to disappear behind oversized shades, wearing a modest black one-piece under what looked like Tyler's old button-down. Her hair was pulled back simply, and she studiously avoided my direction.

Her friends were another story. The blonde surveyed the crowd like a general. The tall woman with intricate braids applied sunscreen methodically. The redhead openly assessed every male guide—including me.

I cleared my throat. Chatter died.

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