Page 7 of Naughty With The Mountain Man
He stares at it like it might explode. “You’re not serious.”
“I amalwaysserious about pinky promises.”
He rolls his eyes but links his pinky with mine, holding it there just a second longer than necessary.
And just like that, the rule is made. No kissing. No touching. No distractions.
Which is fine.
Totally fine.
Except the way he looks at me across the table makes mereallywant to break the rule.
4
Micah
I don’t like the way it sits in my chest—jealousy. It’s not a feeling I wear well. Feels too much like a weight pressing under my ribs. I’ve spent most of my life shutting down feelings before they can turn into liabilities, but somehow Ellie Bright blew in with her stupid smile and candy-cane socks and managed to wedge herself into the cracks.
And now every time I hear Nate’s name fall out of her mouth, something ugly burns in me.
It’s not her fault. It’s mine.
I step outside to make the call because I don’t want her to hear. The cold air slaps me, grounding me. I dig my phone out of my pocket and scroll until I find the name I need.
“Hale,” I say when he picks up. “You busy?”
“Always,” comes the gravelly answer. There’s a clatter on his end—probably a rifle bolt or a wrench. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve got a situation,” I tell him, pacing the porch. “Woman named Ellie Bright. She’s been getting packages—creepy ones. Threats. Photos. Notes. Looks like someone’s watching her.”
“Anyone local?”
“Could be,” I say. “She works at an at-risk youth center. I’m thinking it’s connected to one of her kids. Maybe a family member. Or someone with a grudge.”
Hale exhales slowly. “Send me what you’ve got. I’ll ask around, see if the chatter says anything about a woman being stalked out this way.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Micah,” he adds, voice quieting. “You good?”
I hesitate. “Define good.”
“You sound like you’ve got more than a job on your hands.”
I huff a laugh, bitter and soft. “You know me. I don’t mix business with anything.”
“Right,” Hale says, but there’s an edge of amusement in it that tells me he doesn’t buy a damn word. “Send the details. I’ll keep my ear to the ground.”
“Appreciate it.”
We hang up, and I stand there for a second, breathing in the sharp cold. Hale’s not wrong. There’s more to this than the job, and I’m the idiot letting it happen.
When I go back inside, the cabin smells like cinnamon. Ellie’s curled up on the couch in front of the fire, a blanket around her shoulders, a paperback in her lap. Her hair’s a mess, falling intoher eyes, and she’s sosoftshe almost doesn’t look real in the flickering light.
She glances up and smiles when she sees me, small and easy, and I’m back in that moment—the kiss. The taste of her. The sound she made when I touched her like I might not get the chance again.
I shake it off, because I can’t afford to drown in it. Not when someone’s out there watching her.
