Page 11 of Tempting the Mountain Man

The bell chimes over the door again, and another group of tourists enters the bakery. Sophie and I exchange a look before moving to serve them.

We’re swept up in a rush of customers for the next hour. I lose myself in the rhythm of taking orders, bagging pastries, and pouring coffee. It’s not until things slow down again that Sophie corners me by the muffin display.

“So,” Sophie says when we finally have a break from customers. “Are you going to kiss him again?”

I nearly drop the tray of fresh muffins I’m holding. “Sophie!” I exclaim.

She laughs. “Come on, Polly. You can’t blame me for being curious. I’ve never seen you this excited about someone. Let me live vicariously through you.”

I sigh. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’d like to. If the moment feels right.”

Sophie nods approvingly. “Good. You deserve some happiness, Polly. And from what I’ve seen, Gabe seems like a great guy.”

“He is,” I say softly, my mind drifting back to our date at the fair, to the way Gabe looked at me under the twinkling lights and the warmth of his hand in mine.

“But?” Sophie prompts, sensing my hesitation.

I bite my lip, voicing the worry nagging at me. “It’s just...he’s not sure how long he’ll stay in Sweetheart Falls. What if I’m setting myself up for heartbreak?”

Sophie’s expression softens. “Oh, Polly,” she says gently. “Gabe seems different, though. Maybe he just needs time. You never know—this could be his reason to stay.”

“You think so?” I ask, hope creeping into my voice.

“Absolutely.” Sophie nods confidently. “The way he looks at you...I don’t think he’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.”

I nod, hoping she’s right.

“You know,” Sophie says as we’re locking up, “I have a good feeling about this. About you and Gabe.”

I smile, my stomach tingling with excitement. “Yeah,” I admit softly. “I do too.”

Whatever happens, I know one thing for certain: I’m falling for Gabe Hunter. Hard.

But will he be there to catch me?

CHAPTER 6

GABE

Iheft another sheet of plywood onto the truck bed. The air is thick with the scent of fresh-cut lumber and hot asphalt. Chuck grunts beside me, his muscles straining under the weight of a bundle of two-by-fours. The parking lot of the home supply store is busy with trucks being loaded and the chatter of weekend warriors tackling their latest projects.

“Last one,” Chuck pants, shoving the lumber into place with a satisfying thud.

I nod, taking a moment to survey our haul. Our trucks are loaded to capacity, but this should be the last load like this for a while. The weight of the vehicles has them sitting noticeably lower on their suspensions. As I reach for my water bottle, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

“Gabe here,” I answer, not recognizing the number. I slide into the driver’s seat of my truck to get out of the hot sun.

“Gabe! It’s Jake from Ghost Security. Got a minute?”

My eyebrows shoot up, and adrenaline surges through me. Ghost Security is a big deal in our circles, known for its high-profile clients and cutting-edge operations. “Yeah, go ahead,” I reply, moving to a quieter spot near the store’s brick wall.

Jake’s voice crackles with excitement. “We have some friends in common. To be specific, Waylon mentioned you to me. We’ve got an opening, and one of my guys put your name forward, saying you’d be a perfect fit. Your military background, your skills—we could use someone with your skill-set on our team.”

Chuck glances at me as if to ask if everything’s okay, and I hold up a finger to tell him to hold on. My heart rate quickens, a mix of anticipation and…something else that feels like dread. “I appreciate the call, Jake. I’m listening.”

“It’s a lucrative gig, Gabe. You’d be looking at a six-figure salary, benefits, the works. But...” He pauses, and I can almost hear him wincing. “I hear you’re up north right now. We’d need you based here in Jefferson, but there’d be a fair bit of travel. We’d need you at our HQ.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the bustling parking lot fades away. Relocate. Leave Sweetheart Falls. Leave Polly. An image of her flashes through my mind–her infectious laugh, the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles, the delicious curve of her ass.

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