Page 21 of Trusting the Grumpy Mountain Man
I retreat to the admin cabin, tablet in hand, though I know I won't get any actual work done. My notes cover every aspect of the program, from safety protocols to educational content to behavioral management. The violations are numerous but fixable. The successes are harder to quantify but impossible to ignore.
My supervisor expects a recommendation for program termination. The evidence supports a different conclusion.
The sun sets as I pace the cabin, anticipation building with each passing minute. Outside, the forest grows quiet except for the occasional burst of laughter from the distant bunkhouse. The teens' excitement at this small reward speaks volumes about the program's effectiveness.
When the door finally opens, Jax fills the frame, backlit by the porch light. He's impossibly broad-shouldered and solid, radiating a physical presence that makes the cabin feel suddenly smaller.
"You're still here," he says, shrugging out of his jacket.
"You asked me to be." I set my tablet aside, suddenly hyperaware of being alone with him.
"I meant in Whisper Vale." He moves to the woodstove, adding a log to the banked fire. "You could have left yesterday. Or the day before. Roads have been fine."
"Are you suggesting I should have left?" I stand, needing to feel on equal footing despite our height difference.
"I'm suggesting you wanted to stay." He straightens, turning to face me fully. "Not for your evaluation. For something else."
The directness of his statement leaves nowhere to hide. "Maybe I did."
"No maybe about it." He takes a step toward me. "Your department got their three days. Who are you here for now, Riley?"
"For myself," I admit, the truth finally spoken aloud. "And for the kids. I may have realized that your approach has merit. Though the department would prefer more conventional accommodations from the start."
He straightens. "I told you, I don’t care about the department’s ideas. What do you think?"
The question echoes our conversation before the kiss, deliberate in its directness. "I think there's room for both structure and challenge." I meet his gaze directly. "Safety doesn't have to mean stagnation."
"Careful." A smile plays at the corners of his mouth. "That sounds dangerously like support for my program."
"I support what works." I take a step toward him, drawn by something I can't resist. "Your methods get results, even if they break some rules along the way."
"And how do you feel about breaking rules?" He doesn't move, letting me set the pace between us.
The question lands like a stone in still water, ripples spreading through me. My entire career has been builton following rules, exceeding expectations within established frameworks. Yet here I stand, contemplating crossing the most fundamental professional boundary.
"I'm still figuring that out," I answer honestly.
"I can help with that." His voice drops lower, a rough edge promising things I've never experienced. Something flares in his eyes, hot and possessive. "Come here."
I cross the room without hesitation, all pretense of professional distance abandoned. When I reach him, he cups my face in his large hands, studying me with an intensity that steals my breath.
His thumbs brush my cheekbones. "Once we cross this line, there's no going back."
"I'm sure." I place my hands on his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath my palm. "I've never been more sure of anything."
His mouth claims mine with none of the tentativeness of our first kiss. This is hunger unleashed, possession declared. I respond with equal fervor, arms sliding around his neck as his hands span my waist. He tastes like wilderness and fantasy, his stubble rough against my skin as he deepens the kiss.
He walks me backward until I feel the edge of the desk behind me. In one fluid motion, he lifts me onto it, stepping between my thighs as his mouth trails from my lips to my jaw, then down the column of my throat.
"You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he murmurs against my skin. "Since I saw you standing by that ridiculous city car, looking so perfectly out of place."
"Even when I was trying to shut down your program?" I thread my fingers through his hair, guiding his mouth back to mine.
"Especially then." He nips at my lower lip. "All that passion needed better direction."
His hands roam from my waist to my hips, then back up to tease the undersides of my breasts through my shirt. Each touch ignites nerves I never knew existed, drawing sounds from me I've never made before.
"Jax," I gasp when his thumb brushes over my nipple through the fabric.
