Page 2 of Challenged By the Mountain Man

“I just need you to move your bike, maybe scooch it over with all the others,” I said.

Scooch. Had I actually used the word scooch?

I motioned toward the row of bikes, but even as I did so, I realized the problem with that suggestion. This guy had parked here because there wasn’t a square inch of space available over there.

When I turned back to face him, he was removing his helmet, revealing dark hair that matched the stubble along his jawline. Just looking at him made me feel a little swoony. No, I couldn’t let the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous steer me off course.

“I can’t do that,” he said, flat out refusing to budge.

“I could call the police,” I said. “My next-door neighbor is head of the local police force.”

I crossed my arms and stared him down, but I felt anything but confident as we engaged in a stare-off. I could barely keep my eyes open right now. The sun was bright out here today. Why hadn’t I grabbed my sunglasses on the way out?

“Garth is a good friend of mine,” he countered, referring to my next-door neighbor.

And then, without warning, the guy removed the sunglasses. His eyes were a grayish-green shade, but it was their intensity that almost had me taking a step back. He was looking at me like I was the only woman in the world, and it tied my insides in knots.

“I’m Nate Donnelly, head of the Rosewood Ridge Riders,” the guy said. “That’s your local motorcycle club.”

He extended his hand for a shake. I was still staring at those eyes. I was drawn to this guy in a way I’d never been drawn to a man before. I wanted to do far more than shake his hand.

“Terra Page, owner of Turn the Page.”

I gestured toward the large sign on my bookstore. I always said that I was born to run a bookstore. It was built into my last name.

Absently, I then slid my hand into his and…uh-oh.

As his hand engulfed mine, I felt things. Things I couldn’t even understand, let alone explain. Warmth spread through me, settling in the area between my legs. My heart raced, my breathing quickened.

What was happening?

“You run this place, I assume?”

He nodded toward the bookstore, only briefly taking his eyes off me. He didn’t withdraw his hand, either. In fact, we’d stopped shaking hands. Did that technically mean we were just holding hands?

“You’re the owner?” he asked.

I nodded. “It was my favorite place to hang out when I was a teenager. When the owner decided to sell, I bought her out.”

It was a purchase I’d talked my parents into making. They were going to pay for my college. My argument was that this was an investment in my future. How could a bookstore, the only one in this town, fail?

I was twenty-four, and I still felt the pressure to make this work for my parents’ sake. I never wanted them to regret the decision they’d made, giving me that money.

“Okay,” he suddenly said, withdrawing his hand from mine.

My hand hung in the air for far too many seconds before finally dropping to my side. I was shocked by how much I missed his touch.

“I’ll move…on one condition,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“You agree to go for a ride on my motorbike.”

2

NATE

Terra seemed too young for me. Hell, my daughter was twenty-three, and I guessed this woman wasn’t much older. But there was something about her that spoke to me. In fact, I kept glancing over my shoulder all morning. It was obvious enough that one of the other bikers, a buddy of mine, noticed.

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