Page 29 of Marked by the Mountain Man

She smiles.

“As for my cabin and community? I think you’ll love it,” I say, bringing her hand to my mouth and kissing her fingertips one by one. Already falling back under the hypnotic need for my blonde beauty. “Roscoe’s married to a girl about your age, Ginger. She’s an elementary school teacher, and Bodie and Fawn recently joined our community from a couple of mountains over. Fawn’s about your age, too. She’s pretty shy, but once she gets to know you, she warms up.”

Hadleigh watches me kiss her fingers, a naughty look filling her eyes. Leaning in, she whispers in my ear, “Do I really have to go to the hospital? I’m not sure I can wait that long for …you know.”

I growl deep in my chest, running my fingers into her silky, long, golden locks. “The longer you wait, the longer I’m going to spend on teasing and pleasing you. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that.” She palms my cheeks, staring into my eyes. “It may not have been love at first sight for me, but it was pretty damn close.”

“You can say that all you want, Hot Stuff,” I tease. “But it took some pretty impressive maneuvers on my part to keep you entertained on our first date.”

“You have a point.”

I wrap my arm around her, pulling her tightly against me. “You think you can be happy so far from SoCal and surfing?”

She nods. “I probably go surfing twice a year. You know, because ‘life,’ and I’ve always had trouble finding the right surfing partner?—”

“Until now.”

She beams at me.

I add, “I can hang ten with the best of them. But nothing too big or scary. You’re more important to me than the adrenaline from any wave.” Her eyes warm, and her face relaxes. After everything she’s been through, she needs to hear this.

Hadleigh snickers, arching an eyebrow. “Hang ten? I’ll have to see that to believe it.”

“Is that a challenge, Hot Stuff?”

“You bet your ass it is, hortboarder.”

Chapter Twelve

HADLEIGH

ONE MONTH LATER

“Shop is cleaned, and books are closed out for the day. I’ve got everyone scheduled for the rest of the week. Now, what do you say we head home?” I ask seductively, eyeing my gorgeous tattooed mountain man.

“Oh, yeah?” Hudson grumbles, closing the distance between us and wrapping his arms around me. His large hands go to my hips, squeezing and grinding me against him.

“Is that a ‘yes?’” I tease, licking my bottom lip slowly and watching it undo him. His eyes dilate, and he growls deep in his throat, leaning in for a kiss.

“First, I need help with that tattoo I mentioned earlier,” he murmurs, grabbing my hand and turning down the hallway, dragging me along behind.

“Help with a tattoo?” I scrunch my face. He mentioned this hours ago, when I was distracted with customers and some of the artists working for him. I thought I heard him wrong, but now I shake my head mystified.

Hudson always surprises or teases me in some way. Sometimes, it’s a practical joke, like jump scaring me, or settingup the coyote call in the bathroom and letting it howl when least expected.

Of course, there are also the sweet surprises, like the time he covered my car in Post-its that, when put together and decoded, clued me in on a concert he’s taking me to at the Vegas Sphere to see My Chemical Romance. Or when he left two tickets to Hawaii inside the bathing suit drawer of my dresser, letting me know we’re going on a surfing vacation this fall.

But helping him with a tattoo? I can’t imagine what he’s thinking. “I’m not like my silly brother,” I grumble, frowning. “Which means I absolutely don’t want to learn how to tattoo. Especially not you.”

I replace “dumbass” with “silly,” reminding myself I shouldn’t talk so disparagingly about Andy anymore. After all, he’s been in rehab for a month now, scared sober when he saw me abducted by his associates. Their bodies were both recovered after the flash flood, along with the crushed, waterlogged SUV.

My brother’s trying to turn his life around and do better. And while I’m not holding my breath, having been through this with him too many times to count, I also want to be supportive and help him succeed.

“Especially not me?” Hudson questions, wheeling back around. “Now, you’re breaking my heart, Hadleigh. Are there other men you want to tattoo?” The wicked glint in his eyes confirms he’s up to something.

“You are incorrigible,” I scold, swatting playfully at his shoulder.

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