I wakeup slowly the next morning, the smell of sausages wafting from the gap beneath the bedroom door. The space beside me is empty, but Ridge’s scent is still clinging to the bedding—warm and woodsy. My pulse quickens as I breathe it in, resisting the urge to hug his pillow to me.
Too much, Lila. Definitely too much.
I still can’t believe I slept with Ridge last night. Well, okay, not ‘slept with’…that sounds wrong. But I felt so safe sharing a bed with him. It should have felt weird, but there was something comforting about Ridge’s presence. He made me feel safe…
And horny.
Definitely horny.
Having a sexy older mountain man just inches away from me was enough to get my blood pumping, and I woke up several times in the night, my body jolting awake with every accidental brush of limbs beneath the covers.
Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I reach out and flick the light switch. Nothing happens. I flick it back and forth again and again, but the bedroom light stays stubbornly off. Frowning, I push myself out of bed and pad into the living room. Ridge is sitting in a chair by the fire, holding a skewer of sausages overthe flames. When he hears me enter, he turns, and I suck in a breath.
Holy crap.
Losing my mind over a stranger isn’t what I had planned for this vacation, but Ridge looks even more gorgeous than yesterday. His dark hair is still mussed from sleep, and his white t-shirt strains around his thick biceps as he turns the sausages. Those deep blue eyes meet mine, and I feel an instant rush of desire between my thighs as I look at him.
“Morning,” I say a little breathlessly.
“Morning.” Ridge inclines his head toward the sausages. “The owner left us some stuff in the fridge. Want breakfast?”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
“No problem. Power’s out, so gotta cook them the old-fashioned way.”
I grab two plates from the kitchen before sitting on the couch beside Middy, watching as Ridge cooks our food. Aside from the fire spitting, there’s silence—no more howling wind outside. The storm must have passed, and now there’s no reason one of us can’t find somewhere else to stay.
It should be me.
Ridge was here first, and he needs this place more than I do, given that there’s literally a tree on top of his home right now. Plus, he has Middy to think about.
But I don’t want to go.
I like being out here with Ridge…and not just because he’s hot. There’s something comforting about him, and as I watch him cook our food, I feel a rush of affection for this big, grumpy mountain man. But my fuzzy feelings turn to confusion when he says, “Sorry about yesterday.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was kind of a jerk.” Ridge keeps his eyes fixed on the fire. “Just not really used to being around people these days.”
“You were fine,” I tell him. “I appreciate you letting me in. You could have shut the door in my face and told me to get lost.”
Ridge makes a noise deep in his throat. “I wouldn’t have done that to you.”
“I know.”
His eyes flicker toward me for a second, making my heart skip a beat. But all too soon, he looks away, a grimace twisting his face as he turns the sausages again. His arm tenses and he sucks in a breath through his teeth.
“Are you okay, Ridge?”
“I’m fine.” His voice is tight, his arm shaking slightly, and I feel a knot of concern in my gut.
“You don’t look fine. Did you hurt your arm?” I get up from the couch and kneel beside him in front of the fireplace. “Here, why don’t you let me take over?”
“Don’t worry, I got it.”
I bite my lip. “Maybe there’s a first-aid kit around here somewhere. If you’re hurt?—”
“It’s an old injury,” he grunts. “Nothing a first-aid kit can fix. Thanks, though.”