Page 8 of Forbidden Mountain Man

“Twenty-three,” she said.

It wasn’t like I didn’t know she was at least a decade younger than me. I’d been fully aware of that. But I’d only ever been with women my own age. I’d never even thought about dating someone in her twenties, but if asked, I would’ve said it wouldn’t work for me.

This woman had hit me in a way no one ever had, though. I couldn’t explain it. Every time I looked at her, I just felt like Darby was what my life had been missing all along.

“You need a hot tub,” she said, stepping back from the railing and looking around. “You could set it up right over there and just sit on your balcony and look out at all of it.”

I’d thought about it, but there was nothing appealing about sitting in a hot tub alone. Suddenly, though, it didn’t sound so bad, mostly because I imagined sharing it with the woman standing just feet away from me.

“Do you ever swim in your pond?” she asked.

It took me a second to realize what she was talking about. I looked out over the water and said, “It’s a lake, actually. And no. I don’t own a swimsuit.”

“Who says you need a swimsuit? There’s no one around, is there?” She leaned forward, holding on to the railing as she looked left and right. “You don’t have any neighbors.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a little cold right now.”

She laughed. “You could take the polar plunge, but I wouldn’t recommend it. That always looks painful.”

“Let me guess. You saw it on social media.”

Her expression changed, and I realized she’d taken my comment wrong. She no doubt assumed I thought social media was silly—something young people did to waste time. That wasn’t true at all. I just had no interest in spending my life looking at a phone screen. There was too much to see around me.

“I handled the social media for the library,” she said. “So it was kind of my job. Before that, I did some work for my mom’s boutique in Charlotte. She didn’t pay me much, but it was good for my resume.”

“Your resume was attached to that email you sent me,” I said, just now remembering that fact. “I should have opened it.”

She could have been working for me. I could have her at my show cabin every day, greeting any customers who came in and taking phone calls. Maybe even doing some social media. But then, if she was my employee, dating her would be a conflict of interest.

Wait, wasn’t it a conflict of interest now? I’d heard her boss didn’t care for me much. He’d called me an opportunistic asshole. I had to look up the definition of opportunistic to verify my immediate reaction to that, but I’d been right. I was the opposite of opportunistic. That was exactly how I saw Alex and Brandon. An old saying from childhood came to mind. “It takes one to know one.”

“You know what?” I asked, suddenly wanting to shift the subject. “It’s cold out here. I’ll show you the bedroom.”

Wait, that didn’t come out the way I’d intended. While I’d love to show her the bedroom and then share it with her, I’dimplied that I would keep her safe tonight. That meant being a perfect gentleman.

Unless she made it clear she wanted more.

“Sounds good,” she said. “And then maybe we can sit in front of the fireplace and get warm.”

I was already opening the door for her when she said that, but her words stopped me short. Getting cozy in front of the fireplace could be completely innocent. It could also lead to something else.

Maybe my mind was in the gutter. But I couldn’t help but think she hoped one thing would lead to another and we’d create a fire of our own.

Perfect gentleman, I reminded myself as I followed her into the house. I’d have to keep reminding myself or I just might go back on my promise and kiss her. Kissing would lead to more, and I had a feeling that one time with this woman would never be enough.

6

DARBY

Iwanted him to take advantage of me. Did that even make sense? It wouldn’t be taking advantage if I wanted it, right?

As I watched Lucas poke around in his fireplace to get a good fire going, the naughty thoughts threatened to take over. The way those muscles flexed under the long-sleeved flannel shirt would have any woman imagining him naked. It was like staring at a mouth-watering steak and not thinking about eating it.

Okay, I was thinking about more than what he’d look like naked. I was thinking about touching him and kissing my way down his chest and over his stomach—over an area of his body I couldn’t even see right now. If I unbuttoned his pants and lowered his zipper to find what lay beneath, would I be surprised? Scared? Titillated?

There was only one way to find out. I had to get him to take advantage of me.

“That should do it,” he said.

---