Page 10 of Mountain Man Daddy

“I guess you did something to me when you smacked my butt,” she said sheepishly. “Thanks for snapping me out of my frenzy.” Again, he looked at her as if she were an enigma.

“Frenzy?” He shifted her higher in his arms. “That was no frenzy. It was a good old-fashioned temper tantrum.” His mouth twitched beneath his scraggly facial hair. “Hence the old-fashioned remedy.” Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment, and a jolt of fire went straight to her core.

She shrugged and set her head on his shoulder. Ignoring the fierce wind and his grizzled snowy beard tickling her face, she relaxed against him, wondering what he’d decided during his scrutinizing assessment of her. And why had she whined? She’d been on the run for a while. There was no time or energy for whining. It was all about survival.

Her lids drifted closed. When this man took charge, she felt less alone, and while she couldn’t afford to rely on anyone, maybe she could allow herself some time to rest and recuperate. The wilderness man could take charge and run the show just for a little while, right?

* * *

When she opened her eyes, she was in a bed. The wind was howling, and icy snow pelted the window, so she nuzzled back against the pillow. It smelled like Yukon, a mixture of wood smoke and outdoors. Picturing his ruggedly handsome face made her middle swirl, and remembering how stern he’d been and the feel of her body against his caused the swirling to intensify.

She tried to concentrate on how he’d been at Annie’s—grumpy, clearly uncomfortable in the small space, and demanding. It didn’t have the effect she wanted, though. Instead of shoving away the warm feelings, they only blossomed in her further. And then there was her final thought.

He’d stayed—just because she’d asked in a moment of pain-riddled madness.

She sat up on the edge of the bed. Her clothes, badly in need of washing, were hanging on a wooden chair beside the double bed. She looked down at her naked thighs. She was wearing a t-shirt—just a t-shirt. She swallowed hard. He’d undressed her? Instead of being horrified, her nipples tightened and the muscles between her thighs clenched.

The room was simple. There was a bed, a night table, a chair, a small dresser, and a wardrobe in the corner. Even the rustic log walls and the furniture looked handcrafted. The room smelled of the forest, wood smoke, and man—big, solid mountain man—and it sent another strum of something sexual through her.

She rose, tentatively, still feeling weak, and ignoring the desire pulsing within her. There was a chill in the room, and her bare legs felt exposed, but her skin also felt electric.

She noticed a few books on the little table by the lamp. She listened for her host, but with the storm raging outside she could hear little else. Where was he? Could she snoop without getting caught?

Avery glanced at the window crusted with snow and considered her getaway. Yukon was overbearing and too much of a good Samaritan to let her go in her current condition, especially with the brutal weather. She shouldn’t be running off in a storm, especially after her last disastrous attempt, but staying still was not only deadly for her, but for him as well. Would he shove her out the door if he knew the danger she brought, and what if he knew what she’d done to survive?

Avery hobbled to the window. She banged it and snow fell, clearing enough that she could see some of the outside. The window was large enough to give a view of the mountains around them and the valley below, but with the flurry of snow falling, she saw very little. Yukon was out there though, bundled up and pulling wood in a cart toward the cabin. She watched the snow until he came back with an empty cart and piled more wood from the shed in it. He worked rather lazily for a man in the middle of a storm, stopping to enjoy the snow and toss it at his bear. Yes, it was actually a freaking bear.

How weird was that? Why on earth did he have a wild animal around? He rolled an old tire through the snow, and the bear swished a big paw lazily at it, knocking it to the side. The animal wandered over to where it fell, nudged it with its tan-colored nose and then flopped down to chew. By the way Yukon arched back and the big puff of breath that came out, she knew he was laughing. She cracked the window in hopes of hearing something. The frigid air bit her naked thighs and blew snow through the screen, but Avery only tugged the shirt lower, eager to glimpse the mountain man in his natural habitat.

“You’re a bundle of energy, Rock.” The bear groaned as if answering Yukon’s insult with a lazy retort. “Still nasty out here. You might want to consider going back to sleep.” The bear paused, chuffed and sniffed the air before going back to his tire. Yukon shook his head and smoothed his ice-crusted beard with his gloved hand.

Avery had always preferred men who were clean-shaven and well-dressed, but this one… She frowned, telling herself not to go there, and instead she walked away from the window and the rugged stranger who did things to her insides.

Her body apparently didn’t care that he wasn’t her usual type. He may not have been someone she’d normally be attracted to, but hewasgorgeous, and he’d rescued her. He made her feel safer than she’d felt in a long time—maybe ever.

She bit her lip. Yukon was distracted. If she was going to plan her breakout, now was the time. Since her purse was gone, along with the thousand dollars she’d accumulated, she needed money. She needed a new ID, among other things, and it wouldn’t be cheap.

She guessed that her purse must have been thrown from the Jeep during the crash. Perhaps if she followed the path from the wreck to the road she’d locate it. A gust of wind whistled through the window and she frowned. She couldn’t search during the storm and she’d never find it buried in the snow.

She sat on the bed, feeling deflated. Her stomach ached with the thought of stealing from Yukon, but dammit, she had to be tough. She had to survive.

Avery opened the side table drawers quietly, looking through gently so he’d never know she’d been there, but when she got to his underwear drawer, she paused. Picking up a pair of boxers, she smiled. There were striped and dull paisley ones but the ones she held up weren’t bland like that. They were orange with polar bears holding beer steins. She dropped them and picked up a blue pair dotted with cartoon penguins in top hats carrying canes. The grumpy mountain man didn’t seem the type to wear his sense of humor on his undies.

“What are you doing?” His gruff voice made her drop the shorts to her feet and stand swiftly. Her face felt hot with embarrassment. He’d caught her going through his underwear drawer.Oh, God, his underwear drawer!

“Uh.” She looked to the drawer, her gaze landing on a pair of thick wool socks and she lunged for them.

“I—my feet were cold.” Her pulse quickened as his eyes narrowed, the heat of his gaze making more than her heart pound. Avery swallowed several times to rid herself of the dry patch in her throat. Yes, she liked this guy’s look, even when it was irritated, maybe especially so. There was a mix of excitement, heat, and fear that fizzed in her. He was a contradiction with his rugged, gruff exterior and his gentle nurturing, and it fascinated her.

“I was distracted by the funny boxers,” she said, looking down sheepishly at the socks, hoping he bought her lie. It wasn’talla lie; shehadgotten distracted by his shorts.

His hands went to his hips. The jeans he wore were old but hugged him well—too well to need the thick leather belt he wore. Tucked into them was a green thermal long-sleeved shirt that molded over each well-defined pec, ab, and bicep. He was a man in every single way.

“And what would you think if you caught me looking throughyourundergarments?” He walked toward her, and she stepped back automatically, her knees hitting the bed and knocking her to a sitting position. She chewed the inside of her cheek as he kept coming.

“I’d probably think you were a pervert.” She was intimidated by his size, so she looked to her feet.

“I think that sounds about right.” He bent forward and lifted Avery’s chin with one long, callused finger. “Are you a pervert?” Was that humor in his eyes? She swallowed audibly. She shook her head, and her stomach churned nervously.

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