Page 7 of The Mountain Man's Bride

His brown gaze grows even more heated. “I suspect you want to be naughty.”

But the magical spell between us is broken when I move to search another cabinet and my foot slips on the countertop. My arms windmill and I close my eyes, bracing myself for the fall that’s about to come.

5

MAGGIE

The impact never happens. Instead, my sexy mountain man is wrapping his arms around me. When I open my eyes, he pulls me closer, nestling me against his hard body. His gaze drops to my lips, and I lick mine, anticipating his next move.

Instead of kissing me like I’d hoped, he frowns. “Careful there, pixie.” He lowers me to my feet but keeps an arm around my waist as if he knows my legs are shaky not from the adrenaline of the almost-fall but from the almost-kiss.

I brush my bangs from my eyes. “I was trying to gather the ingredients for cookies. Snow days require them.”

The corner of his mouth tips up, almost like he wants to smile but he doesn’t. Instead, he moves toward the open cabinet. “Tell me what you need.”

You and me in front of the fireplace with no clothes between us. I shake my head, trying to clear the strange thought. It’s not that I haven’t ever wanted to have sex. It’s just that I’ve never wanted a man like this before, not with a burning need that’s settled between my thighs and is making me ache.

Finally, he arches an eyebrow and I realize I’ve been fantasizing about his huge, strong body.

A blush creeps up my neck as I rattle off a list of ingredients, trying to distract myself from the things I want him to do to my body. Something tells me that with a body like his, he probably knows exactly how to keep a woman warm during a snowstorm.

He quickly retrieves the items I list, and he doesn’t even have to stretch. He must be over six feet tall and it’s all lean muscle.

“What was it you said you did again?” I ask when he places the five-pound bag of flour on the kitchen island. With just one chair, I wouldn’t have expected him to have the things I need for baking.

“I work at the lumbermill,” he answers as if he understands that I was clearly not in the best frame of mind when I arrived at his place.

“So, you’re a lumberjack.” I take a dry measuring cup from the island drawer. My grandmother would have loved a day like today, trapped inside with me and my grandpa. A lump rises in my throat at the thought.

He grimaces at the word lumberjack. “You never did tell me what you do.”

I hesitate. People treat you differently once they know you come from money, and I don’t want that from Crew. “I’m in the family business.”

He snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. The simple motion pulls that gray t-shirt even tighter across those very broad shoulders and hard body. “Is that code for mafia?”

I do my best Godfather impression. “I’ll make you a cookie you can’t refuse.”

He chuckles and a giddy warmth fills me. I don’t know what it is about him that leaves me feeling like a silly schoolgirl but whatever it is, I like it. Why couldn’t I have been engaged to someone like Crew?

“About how long will the snowstorm last?” I ask as the wind howls again and the lights flicker.

“A few days. Usually takes a week before I can safely get the truck down the mountain again,” he explains.

His words should probably trouble me, but they don’t. I was supposed to be on my honeymoon for the next two weeks which means all my work at the office is covered and my friends are taking turns checking in with my grandfather. I’ll be home again before anyone needs me.

“Do you want help with that?” He gestures toward the bowl where I’m working on mixing together the dry ingredients.

I give him instructions, knowing the steps for my grandmother’s famous chewy cookie recipe by heart.

He pauses when I mention the secret ingredient that makes the cookies taste extra decadent. “Cream cheese. That’s Ma’s recipe. It makes the cookies—”

“Chewy in the center but crispy on the edges,” I finish with a grin.

He nods as he cracks two eggs. I watch his long, calloused fingers move with practiced ease.

Being here with him as the wind whistles outside and the lights flicker makes it feel like my problems are a million miles away. There’s a peaceful coziness that has me wishing I could step away from my real life and into this fantasy land.

I know that when I go back, I’ll need to find a rich husband. Sebastian Thomas isn’t the only rich guy in need of a wife. I just have to find someone else to marry for his money. Maybe if I’m lucky he’ll be someone kind. Someone like Crew.

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