Page 28 of Bossy Mountain Daddies
I try to focus on what he's showing me, but I'm distracted by our proximity, by the smell of him—coffee and cinnamon and something spicy. His fingers brush against my wrists as he adjusts my grip, and my pulse jumps beneath his touch.
"Now watch," he says, his voice low near my ear. He guides my right hand through a motion, the yarn looping around the needle. "Under, around, through, and off. That's all there is to it."
His chest presses lightly against my back as he reaches around to show me again. I can feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, the solid warmth of him. Something flutters in my stomach and I try to push it aside.
"You try," he murmurs, loosening his grip but keeping his hands hovering near mine.
I fumble through the motions, dropping the yarn. "Sorry."
"Don’t apologize." His chuckle vibrates through me. "Nobody gets it right the first time."
He helps me try again. On my third attempt, I manage to create something that resembles a stitch.
"There you go," he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "You're a natural."
I snort. "Liar."
"Okay, not a natural. But persistent. That's more important anyway."
We continue like this for several minutes, his hands occasionally guiding mine when I get stuck. Each time he touches me, awareness prickles across my skin.
“I’m going to deliver the hats I’ve made to the hospital soon. Let me know if you want to join me.”
“I’d love to if I’m still here.” The thought of leaving surprisingly makes me feel sad. But, staying here isn’t an option, right? That’s a crazy idea…
I finally set the needles down. "I’m going to have another muffin before they get cold."
"Good idea." Buck returns to his stool, picking up his own muffin.
I take a bite of the second muffin and immediately close my eyes in appreciation. It’s bursting with blueberries, with a crunchy sugared top that dissolves on my tongue. "Oh my god," I mumble around the mouthful. "They really are incredible."
Buck looks pleased. "Told you. Have more if you’d like."
"If this bar thing doesn't work out, you could make a fortune selling these." I take another bite, savoring the amazing-ness.
"I'll keep that in mind." He laughs and finishes his own muffin in two large bites, then wipes his hands on a kitchen towel. "I should start prep for breakfast. We open in a couple hours."
I nod, suddenly reluctant to end this quiet moment between us. "Can I help?"
He studies me for a second, then smiles. "Sure. You can chop vegetables for the omelets if you want."
As I wash my hands at the sink, I realize the dream that woke me—Daniel and Alicia and that paralyzing helplessness—feels distant now, replaced by the simple pleasure of warm muffins, gentle conversation, and the surprising intimacy of learning to knit from a man with the biggest hands and even bigger heart.
Chapter 9
Griff
Iwipe down the bar as the lunch crowd thins out, my eyes drifting to Skye across the room. She's refilling salt shakers, head bent in concentration, a strand of blonde hair falling across her face. Something twists in my chest when she tucks it behind her ear without looking up.
Last night replays in my mind—her skin under my hands, the sounds she made, the way she curled against me after. Christ, I'm in trouble here.
We’d worked together and then, after our shift was through, she took my hand and led me upstairs to her room. Who was I to say no? Her pull is too strong.
The morning shift had been steady but manageable. Buck emerged from the kitchen around eight, exchanging some private joke with Skye that made her laugh—a genuine, head-thrown-back laugh that drew every eye in the place. I caught Buck watching her after she’s moved on to take a customer’s order. Can't blame him. There's just something about her...
"We're almost done here," I say, tossing the rag over my shoulder. Mondays are typically slow, which is why I'd planned to take the afternoon for myself.
Skye glances up, catching me watching her. Instead of looking away, I hold her gaze. A small smile plays at the corners of her mouth, and heat crawls up my neck like I'm some teenage boy caught staring at his crush.
