Page 7 of Tempting the Mountain Man

Gabe smiles. “That’s not necessary. But,” he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck as if he’s nervous, “there is something. The fair’s in town this weekend, and there’s a band playing that I like. Would you like to join me and be my date?”

My heart nearly explodes in my chest, and I force myself to count to five before accepting. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love to go with you.”

Gabe’s face breaks into a wide grin, his eyes lighting up in a way that makes my breath catch. “Great! I’ll pick you up Saturday at seven?”

I nod, unable to keep the smile off my face. “Saturday at seven sounds perfect.”

As he leaves, I lean against the counter, my mind whirling. A date. With Gabe. I think back to how I swore off men after the mess with my ex, but I know I have to give Gabe a chance. He makes me nervous in a way that’s exciting and makes me smile when I get up in the morning.

Gabe gives me the happiness of hope.

CHAPTER 4

GABE

The saw buzzes loudly as I guide it through a thick plank of wood, but my thoughts keep drifting to Polly and our upcoming date tonight. The fair, the band, the possibility of...more. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this kind of anticipation about a woman. I can almost smell the sweet scent of her perfume, a spicy cinnamon that reminds me of the apple turnovers I’ve become addicted to.

“Earth to Gabe!” Chuck’s voice cuts through my reverie, sharp and sudden. “You trying to saw your hand off or what?”

I blink, reality snapping back into focus. The saw has drifted dangerously close to my fingers, and a rush of adrenaline spikes through me as I realize how close I came to injury. “Fuck,” I mutter, switching off the power tool and taking a step back. My hands tremble slightly, and I shake them out in front of me. “Got distracted.”

Chuck grins. “Don’t have to ask who’s on your mind,” he teases. “Thinking about your hot date tonight?”

Heat creeps up my neck and spreads to my cheeks. “Maybe,” I admit, unable to keep the smile off my face. Before I nearly sliced off my fingers, I was wondering if she’d wear jeans, so I could see the curve of her ass, or if she’d wear a pretty sundress.

“Man, you’re more worked up over Polly than you were over Sarah.” Chuck’s voice is quieter as he leans against a nearby beam and watches me. “Polly must be something special. I only know her in passing, and that she makes damn fine cakes and pastries. She’s always seemed like a good woman.”

“She is,” I say without hesitation, surprised by the force in my voice. I’m transported back to the bakery for a moment, seeing Polly’s warm smile and hearing her laughter. The way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she’s truly happy, the gentle touch of her hand on my arm when she’s emphasizing a point. It’s hard to believe that a few days ago, I never wanted to get close to a woman again. But Polly...she makes me want to take that chance, to consider opening my heart again.

“Well, don’t let me keep you,” Chuck says, breaking into my thoughts. He pushes off from the beam, making a shooing motion with his hands. “Go on, get out of here. You’ve got a lady to impress. I can finish this up.”

I check my watch, surprised to see how late it’s gotten. “Thanks, Chuck. I owe you one.”

“Nah,” he waves me off, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Just name your first kid after me, and we’ll call it even.”

I laugh, heading inside for a shower and shave, and clean clothes. I spend more time getting ready than I have in years. I iron my shirt, smoothing out every wrinkle with meticulous care. I look in the mirror, adjust my collar for the tenth time, andlaugh at myself. Who would have thought Gabe Hunter would be primping like a teenager before a first date?

But it’s more than that. I want to impress Polly, yes, but it’s not just about looking good. I want her to see the best version of me, the man I am when I’m with her—the man I want to be because of her. Because when I’m with Polly, I feel like I might have another shot at love in my future.

The driveto Polly’s place feels both too long and too short. My palms are sweaty on the steering wheel, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I rehearse what I’ll say when I see her, then immediately forget it all when I pull up and see her step out of her house.

She’s breathtaking. Her hair falls in soft waves around her face, catching the golden light of the late afternoon sun. She’s wearing a sundress, a delicate floral print that shows off her curves in all the right ways. But it’s her smile, bright and a little shy, that knocks me off my feet. Her eyes hold a vulnerability, a hint that she’s as nervous and excited as I am.

“Wow,” I breathe heavily, standing straighter as she approaches my truck. “Polly, you look amazing.”

A blush brightens her cheeks, and she ducks her head slightly. “Thanks,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You clean up pretty nice yourself.”

As we drive to the fairgrounds, we chat easily about our days, the bakery, and the cabin project, but the undercurrent between us makes every word feel significant.

“So, how’s the new cinnamon roll recipe coming along?” I ask, genuinely interested. I love hearing about her work, the passion she puts into every creation.

Polly’s eyes light up. “Oh, it’s getting there! I think I’ve finally nailed the perfect balance of cinnamon and sugar. You’ll have to come by and be my taste tester again soon.”

“Twist my arm.” I laugh. “You know I’d never turn down one of your creations.”

Her smile softens. “I appreciate that, you know. How supportive you are of my baking experiments. Not everyone gets why it matters so much to me.”

I glance at her, noting the slight waver in her voice. “Hey, it matters because it matters to you. And for the record, I think it’s incredible how much care and creativity you put into your work.”

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