Page 82 of Shared By the Mountain Men

Up until this point, I’d tried not to let my gaze linger on her body. I was a gentleman, goddamnit. But she was wearing tight black yoga pants and a crop top, and it was impossible for menotto stare at her as she led the way. Her body was right there in front of me, screaming to be looked at. To be admired. She had slender legs but a plump little ass that stood out in the skin-tight pants. My cock was fully awake now, like a German Shepherd that had spotted a squirrel it wanted to chase.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Jesus, she was hot.

“My ankle does feel good!” she said cheerfully, glancing back at me. “Still tender, but better than expected.”

I quickly pulled my gaze down to the ground. “Good.”

I couldn’t deny it any longer. I wanted Melissa.Badly.

I was fucked.

Unless I could get her to leave.

35

Melissa

I was actually having a good time on the hike!

My ankle ached at first, and I couldn’t keep up with Jack’s pace. But soon the blood started flowing, and my ankle got loose enough to hike with minimal pain. Notzeropain, but enough that I could ignore it and not worry about causing any long-term damage.

We were even having a good time clearing away the downed trees from the storm. Every ten minutes we came across a new branch, and the two of us worked in mutual silence to clear it. A few times, Jack even gave me a nod of respect.

I was getting a weird vibe from him the entire time, though. A vibe I couldn’t quite place. And when I caught him staring at my ass, I wondered if that had something to do with it.

But he acted totally platonic while showing me how to use the hatchet. If anything, he wanted to avoid touching me or being close to me.

“We make a good team,” I said after the fourth branch had been cleared.

“Sure, I guess,” he replied gruffly.

Yeah. He definitely didn’t like me.

I was relieved that my ankle felt so good. It meant I was almost ready to resume the Colorado Trail. Ending this little detour and going back to the main reason I was so far from home in the first place.

But soon my mood turned sour. I wasn’t ready to move on, yet. I had just done something new with Noah and Ash. Everything with them felt fresh and new. Something worth exploring. But I obviously couldn’t do that if I left soon.

I was a confused jumble of emotions for the rest of the hike until we reached the top. The trail abruptly ended at a clearing, but there were still trees all around, blocking our view of the valley.

“Good job,” Jack said, sitting on a nearby log. “We’ll take a breather, then head back down.”

“Cool,” I replied, sitting on another log a few feet away. He tossed me a Clif Bar, and I tore into it eagerly. I’d worked up an appetite.

Jack took a long pull from his canteen, then offered it to me. The water was cool and refreshing. I passed it back, and he drank some more. It struck me as a weirdly-intimate gesture, drinking from the same bottle. Our mouths touching the same spot. The kind of thing close friends did. Or lovers.

I shook off the thought. Jack didn’t like me. If anything, he downrightdislikedme.

He grumbled something about being warm, then stood and stripped off his flannel, revealing a white tank top underneath. His arms glistened with sweat, making the muscles stand out in the tilted sunlight that pierced the trees. He wasn’t as big as Ash, or as lean as Noah, but he was as formidable as anyone I knew back home in Ohio. More so, since his muscles were made for working rather than for vanity.

“Sorry the view’s not better,” Jack said as he sat back down.

I gave a start. “What, uh, do you mean?”

He gestured at the forest all around us. “Snodgrass Mountain isn’t tall enough to go above the tree line. So there’s no view. It disappoints all the tourists.”

The view. Duh. “It’s fine.”

He took a bite out of his Clif Bar and then pointed with the rest. “How’s the ankle?”

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