Page 12 of The Haunting of the Mountain

He rubs my calf and I’m feeling more than better.

“Didn’t say this place isn’t haunted.”

I smile. “So you’re saying it is?”

He wraps a soft gauze around my leg, holding the bandage in place before taping it up. His fingertips, deft and strong, graze the bandage, and an urge to take them into my mouth rockets through me. The desire to feel them wrapped around my throat. Drag across my body.Phew.This is crazy.

I let out a long, soft breath. This isn’t foreplay. This isn’t a prelude to what I’d like to come. But I can’t ignore how it’s working me up.

“Could be,” he says finally, meeting my eyes again. His smile makes my lungs seize and my stomach flip. “Experienced some strange things here.”

“Yeah?” I say, somewhat annoyed as he removes his hand from my leg and stands up. “Would you mind if I interviewed you for my podcast?”

God, I’m an idiot. At least it feels that way the moment the words leave my mouth.

He lets out a soft chuckle as he heads over to the stove.

“Podcast?”

“It’s like a radio show.”

“I know what a podcast is,” he says in a way that I know he’s smiling.

I sigh. “Of course.” I don’t know what to say because every time I open my mouth something silly comes out.

“Tell me about it,” he says, turning around with two small bowls.

He sets one down in front of me and I realize that these bowls are not, in fact, small. They’re the size of my damn head and filled with an assortment of berries, graham crackers, and cream.

Okay, mountain man.

“After you tell me about this. Whatisit?”

He smiles. I flutter. I should be annoyed with how this man can elicit a response from my body with something so simple, but I’m not. I want more.

“Some berries. Sugar. Orange juice and spices. It’s a dessert my mom used to make me and my brothers. Added some graham crackers for a bit of a crunch. And I don’t think I’ve met a person who doesn’t like whipped cream.”

He drags his finger across the rim of his bowl, swiping off some of the cream before taking it into his mouth.

Dear.Lord.

“I love your cream—uh—whipped cream. Love it. Big fan.”

I need to stop opening my mouth unless it’s to eat.I pick up my spoon, trying to ignore the blaze burning all over my body as Stone stares at me.

“Wow,” I moan. “This is delicious.”

I lick my lips, my spoon, and then go in for another bite. When I look at Stone, he seems to be the one who’s heated, clutching his spoon as his mouth hangs open.

Mmm.

“Usually have it with pancakes. Waffles.” He clears his throat, setting his spoon down. “But I haven’t re-stocked in Whispering Winds in a while.”

He takes a long drag from his mug, and I do the same, washing the sweetness down with peppermint tea.

“Have you lived here long?”

“All my life.” He takes a spoonful of berries into his mouth, flecks of cream on his beard. The thought of brushing it off withmy finger crosses my mind, but I swallow it with another sip of tea.

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