Page 8 of Shared By the Mountain Men

“I told you I was taking you to Crested Butte,” he said flatly.

“I hadn’t heard of this town before you picked me up!” I said heatedly. “I didn’t know it was almost two hundred miles away! Right now, I’m closer to the finish of the Colorado Trail than the start!”

He blinked at me. “I don’t understand.”

“I thought you were taking me somewhere nearby. Not halfway across the state.”

“This is the only hospital where I know a doctor who will treat you for free. I’m sorry you’re not better at geography.”

“Unbelievable,” I muttered. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful for your help, but my plans are kind of fucked right now. Unless you’re going to drive me two hundred miles back to where you picked me up?”

“Wasn’t planning on it. But I’m sure I can find someone driving that way.”

“Cool. So you’ve derailed my entire hike. That’s great.”

He rolled his eyes. “That ankle is derailing your hike more than anything right now. Look. I could be home right now drinking a cold beer rather than getting yelled at for helping an ungrateful asshole.”

I whipped my head toward him. “Don’t call me an asshole!”

“It’s a whole lot nicer than what Ireallywant to call you,” he muttered.

“Go home and drink yourself to sleep,” I hissed. “I don’t care.”

“Fine by me,” he snapped, fire flaring in his dark eyes. “Good luck finding a ride back to the trail with your busted ankle, because I’m done helping you.”

“I don’t want any more of yourhelp, if you can even call it that!”

He didn’t slam the door on his way out, but he certainly wasn’t gentle.

I let out an annoyed snarl. Everything had gone off the rails. All I wanted to do was get my ankle fixed up, return to the trail, and hang out at a campsite until I was healthy enough to continue. Jack may have solved one minor problem, but he had created several new ones.

The door opened, and I immediately said, “I told you I don’t want your help with—”

I cut off when I saw that it wasn’t Jack.

It was, quite possibly, the most attractive man I had ever seen in my life.

5

Melissa

The man who walked into the exam room wasn’t a doctor; he was wearing a blue button-down shirt tucked into jeans, with a brown belt and matching brown boots. He had a somewhat messy mop of yellow hair, and a diamond-shaped face with a warm smile and kind eyes. He was like if you started with Owen Wilson and cranked up the hotness factor a couple of degrees.

“Sorry,” I said, “I thought you were someone else.”

His smile widened, and butterflies erupted in my stomach. “You thought I was Jackie. He told me you were grumpy, but don’t worry—he seems to have that effect on everyone. I’m Doctor Richardson, but everyone calls me Noah.”

I looked him up and down again. “You’re… the doctor?”

Noah glanced down at himself and chuckled. “I forgot my coat. I was about to leave for the night when I heard Jackie was here.”

“If you were leaving, I don’t want to inconvenience you…” I began. But I desperately wanted him to stay. And touch me. My ankle, I mean.

“It’s not an inconvenience! Besides, I owe Jackie.” He disappeared back into the hall, lightly jogging based on the sound. When he returned, he was wearing a white coat.

He spread his arms out wide like a showman. “Better?”

I nodded, hoping I wasn’t gawking at him. “NowI believe you’re a doctor.”

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