Page 11 of Rugged Mountain Man
“It’s notjustpie,” she says, pointing her fork at me like she’s making a declaration. Another bite, and a bit of cherry filling clings to her lip.
I can’t stop staring. My tongue itches to lick it off, to taste her sweetness mixed with sugar. She catches me looking and smirks, her confidence hitting me like a gut punch.
“You’re quiet again,” she says, her fork pausing halfway to her mouth. Her eyes narrow slightly, playful but curious.
“Thinking.”
“About?”
You. Naked in my bed. My hands on your skin. And you moaning the same way you did when you tasted that pie.
I take a sip of coffee, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make her squirm. “About whether you could see yourself living out here. In the mountains.”
She blinks, caught off guard. “Living here? Like… permanently?”
I shrug, keeping my tone casual. “You said you came to figure things out. Can you see yourself in a place like this? Without the city breathing down your neck?”
Her gaze shifts to the window, where the peaks of the mountains cut into the horizon like jagged teeth. For a moment, she looks as if she’s imagining it—really imagining it. “I don’t know,” she says finally, her voice softer now. “I love it here, but it feels so far from… everything.”
“Maybe that’s the point,” I murmur, watching her closely.
Her cheeks flush, and she bites her lip like she’s holding back a smile. “You’re good at this, you know. Making people second-guess themselves.”
“Just being honest,” I say. “Not everyone’s cut out for it, though. The quiet. The work. The isolation.”
She tilts her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t think I could handle it?”
The corner of my mouth lifts, just enough to tease her. “Didn’t say that. You’re tougher than you look.”
Her lips curve into a smile, but there’s something else in her eyes now—something softer, more uncertain. “I guess I’d have to find out.”
“Eat your pie before I do,” I say, my voice rough.
Her eyes flash to mine before she smirks. Thankfully she takes another bite, giving me a moment to pull myself together. She’s dangerous, sitting there like temptation made flesh, and I’m hanging on by a thread.
When she finally sets her fork down, she props her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand. “So,” she says, her voice playful, “what’s next on this little date of ours?”
My pulse spikes. She called it a date, again. The word rolls around in my head like it belongs there. Mine.
I lean back in the booth, crossing my arms. “Thought I’d show you the stables.”
“The stables?” she echoes, tilting her head, curious but hesitant. “I mean, I don’t know much about horses, but… okay?”
“It’s more than just horses,” I say, my voice firm. “It’s my outfitters camp. Got a whole operation up there—pack string for hauling gear into the backcountry, cabins for guests. And I figured you’d want to see where your new cabin is.”
“My… new cabin?” she asks, standing and slipping on her coat. Her cheeks flush, her teasing confidence slipping intosomething softer. It’s like the idea catches her off guard, but she doesn’t say no.
“Yeah,” I say, standing and tossing a few bills on the table. “Unless you’d rather go back to Sweet Haven. But something tells me you’re not ready for that.”
She pauses outside the diner, the cold air turning her breath into little clouds. “You’re not wrong,” she admits, her voice quieter now.
I nod, gesturing toward the truck. “Good. Let’s go. You’ve got a lot to see.”
As we drive, I keep my eyes on the road, but I can feel her beside me, her presence like a hum in my veins. Every glance she steals out the window, every little shift in her seat—she’s winding me up without even trying.
The crunch of gravel under the truck tires gives way to the soft neighing of horses as we pull up to the stables. I glance over at Sadie, and her eyes are wide, sparkling with curiosity as she takes it all in.
“This is your outfitters camp?” she asks, stepping out of the truck. Her voice is tinged with awe as she looks around at the sprawling setup—rustic cabins, neatly stacked hay bales, and the long wooden stable with its weathered charm.
