Page 7 of Brooding Mountain Man

She tossed a quick smile in my direction before turning and walking away again. I just hoped Lucky didn’t notice that smile. I didn’t want him to think she was trying to matchmake us. That might scare him off for good. And the last thing I wanted was to scare him off.

4

LUCKY

Darby was clearly playing matchmaker earlier when she told us about this. If I had even the slightest doubt about that, it vanished when I saw the setup out back.

“It’s a new thing they’re trying,” Georgia said as we stood just outside the back door looking across the pool area. “It’s one of the ways they hope to attract couples looking for a romantic getaway. They realized nobody comes here for Valentine’s Day.”

She added that last part as though I might still be confused. I got it. My reason for a delayed response was that I couldn’t help but notice the series of cushioned patio chairs around the fire. They were pushed together in sets of two with plenty of space between.

This was definitely something meant for couples.

“Blanket?” I asked, putting my hand on the top of a stack of thick wool blankets in a stand that probably held beach towels in the warmer months.

“Yes, please,” Georgia said.

We’d gone back to get our coats after dinner, then met just inside the door behind us. It was clear from the two couples huddled under blankets that we’d need them. Not only were thecouples wearing coats, but two of the women wore scarves and gloves.

Nobody was roasting marshmallows, although as we approached, I noticed that one couple had skewers on the ground next to them. Georgia seemed to know what she was doing, though. She went straight to a small table with a sign readingHelp Yourselfand came back with two skewers and two bags containing four large marshmallows, a few chocolate bars, and a small stack of graham crackers.

“It’s not a lot, but I can sneak over and get more,” Georgia said as she settled in next to me.

I’d chosen the seats farthest away from the rest of the group. I wish I could say it was to get some quality alone time with Georgia, but in reality, it was an old habit. I always isolated myself from people whenever possible. This time, I just happened to be isolatedwithsomeone.

“So how does this work?” I asked, taking one of the skewers from her.

It was hard to concentrate with her so close, and I wondered if she was having to face the same struggle. The tension in the air between us was heavy. It was almost as though some sort of magnetic field were pulling us toward each other.

“Seriously,” she said.

She looked over at me, and that made it worse. Returning her stare, I couldn’t help but check out the light sprinkling of freckles, barely noticeable beneath the thin layer of makeup she wore. Her eyes were big and brown, with thick eyelashes that framed them perfectly. And those lips, plump and full and ready to be kissed…

Who gave a fuck about roasting marshmallows? I wanted to feast on her, kissing her and licking her until she cried out my name.

“What?” I finally managed to force out.

“You seriously don’t know how to make s’mores?”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never had one.”

“You never camped as a kid?”

I slept outdoors for a full two weeks once after running away from an abusive foster parent. The last thing I’d do was pop a tent and sleep outdoors for fun, but I didn’t tell her any of that. I didn’t want to spoil the moment by bumming her out with my stories.

“Well, it’s pretty easy,” she said. “You just stab the marshmallow with this, then hold it close to the fire.”

Yeah, I’d figured that much. But I kind of liked her walking me through things. I followed her lead in sliding one of the gigantic white puffs onto the skewer, then holding it just close enough to the flame for it to get “a little scald on it,” as Georgia called it.

“You can turn it like this,” she said at one point.

That was when she reached over to help, her hand landing on top of mine. The contact went straight to my cock, reminding me just how long it’d been since I’d been with a woman. So, so long.

I’d gone through a wild phase in my twenties, sleeping with an astounding number of women in a search for something, but each one-time encounter left me feeling a little emptier than the last. What I was searching for wouldn’t be found in a quick round of lovemaking with a woman I’d just met. No, that hole in my heart couldn’t be filled.

Or so I’d thought until today. But I’d gotten a taste of something that could be exactly what I’d wanted all my life.

“Perfect,” she said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

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