Page 2 of My Knotty Mountain Men

His blue eyes lift to mine, and I’m momentarily stunned. He’s a Beta, I can smell that much. He’s cute—really cute—with his boyish smile with floppy brown hair covering his forehead.

I blush, cursing the fact that I’m an Omega at this moment because even though I don’t have heats, everything else Omega about me works just fine. Including how often slick inconveniences me, like it is in this exact moment.Damn, Omega hormones.

And, of course, I’m not wearing my scent-blocking panties, so Beta-boy is getting a good whiff of my pheromones.

To prove my point, his eyes widen, and his nostrils flare. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was an Alpha right now.

“Sorry,” I say quickly, moving my cart around him and speed-walking my way to the other end of the store.

When he’s out of view, I take a moment to breathe. What has gotten into me? I don’t react easily to a pretty face anymore. But damn, his face was really pretty.

Get a hold of yourself, Letty. Stop thinking about men. This is a single-girls trip. No boys allowed.

Not that men ever really got in my way. I kind of gave up a few years ago, putting all my time and attention into my work.

Taking a look at my cart, I groan, seeing that it’s all just random things. I can’t make a meal out of any of this.

Making sure to pay better attention, I go back through the aisles slowly, making sure to get a good look at everything they have.

By the time I make it to the checkout, my cart is packed high. “Wow,” the young girl at the cash register comments. “That’s a lot.” She laughs.

“It is.” I laugh back. “Girls’ trip.”

It takes a good five minutes for me to unload everything, get it rung up, bagged, and back in my cart. Only not everything fits anymore. With everything in bags now, the cart is packed weird.

“Need help?” I look up to see the man from before.

“Sorry, what?”

“With your bags.” He gives me an amused look, pointing to the last two bags on the counter.

“Oh, no. I’m okay,” I say, moving to grab my bags. I stupidly let the man watch me struggle to hold the bags while pushing the cart all the way to the exit before one of the bags breaks.

My eyes close, and I die of embarrassment.

“Will you please let me help?” he asks, and I sigh in defeat, nodding.

He picks up the items that dropped and piles them in his arms. “Thank you,” I mumble as he walks out the door.

“No problem. Which car is yours?” he asks as we step outside.

I shiver, the cold winter air hitting me immediately. “The red Jeep.” I point to my rental car.

He’s nice enough to help me pack everything into the back. “I’m Nolan, by the way,” he says, holding out his hand once we close the door.

“Violet.” I take his hand, giving it a good shake.

“Violet,” he repeats, more to himself. He doesn’t let go of my hand, both of us just locked into the other’s gaze. The wind blows, and the faintest smell of cinnamon buns hits my nose. I shiver, a whimper breaking free from my throat. Nolan’s eyes widen at the sound.

“I gotta go. Thanks again.” I rush the words out, my voice strained as I scramble away to process what the fuck that was.

“You’re welcome,” he calls out. I quickly get into the Jeep and start it up.

As I pull out, Nolan stands there and watches, an unreadable expression on his face.

Deciding to leave the cute stranger behind me, I focus on getting to the cabin. It’s about a half-hour drive up the mountain with a crap-ton of twisty curves. I hate every moment of it and am glad I have everything we need for the next week because I’m not making this drive again.

We had the snowmobiles we rented delivered yesterday, ready to take us to the ski resort on the other side of the mountain, so no Jeep on narrow roads is needed.

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