Page 8 of Tempting the Mountain Man

The fair is a riot of color and sound as we arrive. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy fills the air, mingling with the distant strains of music and the shrieks of people on rides. Polly’s eyes light up as she takes it all in, and I feel a surge of affection for her childlike wonder.

“Where to first?” I ask, enjoying the way her hand feels in mine as we walk through the entrance. Her fingers fit perfectly between mine.

“Oh, everything!” she laughs, the sound bright and joyous. “But maybe we could start with some games?”

We make our way through the fairgrounds, trying our luck at various booths. At the ring toss, I watch Polly’s face fall as her rings clatter to the ground, missing the bottles entirely.

“Here, let me show you a trick,” I say, picking up a ring. I demonstrate the proper flick of the wrist, the angle to aim for. “It’s all in the timing and the follow-through.”

Polly’s brow furrows in concentration as she tries again, mimicking my technique. This time, the ring clatters around the neck of a bottle before settling into place. Her delighted laughter makes my heart soar.

“I did it!” she exclaims, turning to me with shining eyes. She wraps her arms around me in a spontaneous hug and my heart thumps so hard I don’t know if my chest can contain it. I hug her back, savoring every moment of her soft curves pressed against my body. I shift my legs when she steps away, trying to fight the boner building in my jeans.

“You’re a natural,” I grin, squeezing her hand. “Now, let’s see if we can win you that big teddy bear.”

It takes a few more tries, but I win enough points for the grand prize. When the carnival worker hands Polly the enormous stuffed bear almost as big as she is, her face lights up with pure joy.

“Oh, Gabe,” she breathes, hugging the bear to her chest. “Thank you!”

She beams at me, her eyes soft with affection, and I feel ten feet tall. At that moment, I’d win her a hundred stuffed animals to see her joyous smile every day for the rest of my life.

As the evening progresses, I find myself more and more drawn to Polly. The way she throws her head back when she laughs, the competitive glint in her eye when we’re playing games, the soft touch of her hand on my arm as we walk...it all feels so natural, so right. We try our hand at the strength test, Polly cheeringme on as I swing the mallet. When the bell rings at the top, her victory dance is so adorable I pull her into a hug and lift her off the ground.

We stop to grab some corn dogs and lemonade, and find a bench to sit on. As we eat, I notice Polly’s expression grow more serious, a hint of nervousness in her eyes.

“Gabe,” she says, her voice soft but determined. “Can I ask you something?”

I nod, a sudden tightness in my chest. “Of course. You can ask me anything.”

She takes a deep breath as if steeling herself. “What are your plans for the future? Are you planning to stay in Sweetheart Falls?”

The question catches me off guard, and I hesitate. The truth is, I haven’t thought much about the future lately. I’ve been so focused on the present, on helping Chuck with his cabin and looking forward to seeing Polly every afternoon.

But as I look into Polly’s eyes, seeing a flash of vulnerability, maybe even fear at my silence, I realize something important. The idea of leaving Sweetheart Falls, of leaving her, feels wrong.

“I’m not sure,” I say slowly, choosing my words carefully. “For a long time, I was focused on getting through each day. But now...” I pause, reaching out to take her hand. “I don’t see any reason to make a change right now. I like it here. The town, the people, my work. And...I like you, Polly. A lot.”

The relief on her face is immediate, and a surge of warmth blooms in my chest.

“I like you too, Gabe,” she says softly. “I guess I was worried that you might not be planning to stick around.”

As night falls, we make our way to the concert area. The band is already playing, the music pulsing through the air. Without thinking, I turn to Polly and hold out my hand.

“Dance with me?”

Her smile is answer enough. After she puts the bear down next to us, I pull her into my arms, and the rest of the world fades away. The music, the crowd, the twinkling lights of the fair—it all becomes background noise to the sound of Polly’s heartbeat against my chest.

We sway together, and I’m acutely aware of every point our bodies touch. The curve of her waist under my hand, her tantalizingly curvy ass that I dream about every night, the softness of her cheek against mine, the way her fingers play with the hair at the nape of my neck. Being with Polly feels like coming home. She makes me want to have a permanent home.

As the song draws to a close, Polly lifts her head from my shoulder, her blue eyes meeting mine. At that moment, I can’t resist anymore. I lean in, one hand cupping her face gently, and kiss her.

The world explodes into sensation. Her lips are soft and warm against mine, tasting faintly of lemonade and something uniquely Polly. She responds eagerly, her arms tightening around my neck as she presses closer.

The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate, more urgent. I pour everything I’m feeling into it—my attraction, my admiration, my growing affection. When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless.

“Wow,” Polly whispers, her eyes shining in the dim light.

“Yeah,” I agree, unable to form a more coherent response. My heart races, and I’m lightheaded in the best possible way.

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