Page 9 of Mountain Man Daddy

“Yes. What you need is a damn good spanking.” His mouth curved slightly beneath his beard. “From your daddy.”

With his handsome face so close to hers and his mention of spanking, she squirmed on the hard, cold storage space. There was something about his no-nonsense, self-assured manner that made her insides turn to mush. She leaned back to give herself some space and his stern eyes tightened further.

“Thank you for saving me, but I need to get out of here.” She shoved forward this time, hoping he’d step out of the way. He didn’t.

“Do you by chance have my purse? I can’t find it.” She tried to put on her sweetest smile, but then remembered her face. A girl with bandages on her head had zero flirting power.

“And how do you expect to do that?” He stood tall and crossed his big arms so he was more brick wall than obstacle. He took that position a lot, she noted, remembering his armchair-guard routine. He even slept with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“Do what?” she asked, distracted by his rigid stance and his wilderness-man hotness.

“You can’t walk more than a few feet without looking as weak and unsteady as a newborn kitten and besides, didn’t you hear me about the storm?” He put his hands on his narrow hips and her eyes followed to his thick thighs.

“What’s your hurry, little girl?” he asked, making her look back up at his scrutinizing glare. Her gut flipped nervously as his eyes shifted between hers. Was he reading her? Her throat worked to swallow. His expression tightened a fraction. Was that annoyance or the biting wind, she wondered.

Her jaw clenched angrily as she slid off the back of the Jeep. He had no right to judge her. She gingerly moved past him, going back to the side door to look in the wreckage for her purse again.

“None of your damn business!”

He snorted.

“Maybe I should have left you here for the cougar,” he said. “Seems I went through a lot of effort for someone with a death wish.” He walked back to the front of the Jeep and picked up the shotgun he’d brought with him. Her eyes widened in fear a moment as the flash of Alex’s bloody murder hit her, but before he noticed she hid it with anger. “Death wish? You think I have a death wish?” she cursed, spinning on him and then regretting it as she stumbled, catching herself at the last second by grabbing his hard forearm. She looked at her hand, tiny against his brawny arm, and swallowed dryly before releasing him.

“I want to live more than anything.” she said aggressively, looking up at his hard blue eyes. “I want to find beauty in the little things again, to garden and dodge waves at the beach. I want read books, drink wine, play badminton on a hot summer afternoon until I’m left in a heap of giggles on the grass. I want to fall in love again, sit by the fire on a snowy afternoon, and stay up all night talking on the phone. I want to live, damn you!” She straightened and attempted to slam the door to the Jeep but it only groaned and whined, bouncing back toward her. She huffed and crossed her arms, looking up to keep the tears pooling in her lids where they were, but the wind blew them across her cheeks anyway. She turned back to him, her eyes finding and holding his. “But doing so requires me getting as far away from this wreck as possible. And my purse isn’t here and I need it.” Her head was pounding and she closed her eyes, letting more tears spill onto her cheeks. The stitches burned and her muscles ached from overdoing it after being in bed for almost two weeks. She tried to ignore her growing panic and anger, burying it deep. Were those really things she wanted? To fall in love again? After the crushing disappointment of Alex all these years? After being used yet again by someone that was supposed to have her best interests at heart? A gust of wind pushed her and she held herself strong and leaned into it.When the world pushes, sometimes you need to push back.

When she opened her eyes again, his face was unreadable. Was it anger that pulsed from him? What right did he have to be angry with her? He didn’t even know her—not even her name. Her gaze dropped and she started around the other side of the Jeep. Maybe her purse had slid across the seats.

She yanked the door and started tossing anything she found out of the Jeep in a temper. The guy she stole it from was a bloody slob too, so there was a lot to throw. Yukon came up behind her and she pelted his chest with some fast food containers with vehemence. She stared, pausing for his reaction for a few beats until his brow cocked and she spun back to complete her mission. Before she could toss another thing, a loud pop sounded and her cold ass stung.

“What the…?” He’d smacked her ass? Before she could protest further, another several sharp cracks landed on her bottom and he wrapped his arm gently, but firmly, around her gut and pulled her away from the Jeep. When he released her, she was speechless, only absorbing the absurdity and the tingling beneath the seat of her jeans.

“That’s enough, little girl. Damn well enough. You need to snap out of this crazy rant and think straight.” A blast of cold wind bit as if supporting him.

She hollered a fury-filled curse skyward and he leaned close.

“I have never met someone more in need of a good hard thrashing than you.”

She balked and he straightened, his stormy eyes filling with satisfaction. She gritted her teeth and reached back to punch him as hard as she could, but he caught her wrist and yanked her hard against him. Tears of frustration stung her eyes. She started to push from him but his brows cinched tight and his arm rose, the flat of his broad palm poised to deliver another swat, so she stilled. She blinked, her chest heaving in exertion against his. He was solid and so was his damn hand.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” she said in disbelief, her mouth curving down into a small frown. He released her wrist and she shuffled back.

“I’m sorry.” She lowered her face into her hands. She didn’t even know why she was apologizing. He was the one who had hit her, she reasoned, but it was stupid to throw a tantrum in her condition.

She probably did deserve the spanking for being such a mess, and it had certainly snapped her out of her fit, but he was a stranger. She sucked cold air through her fingers, logical thinking calming her. It was a relief to have someone notice she was falling apart, and to be concerned without ulterior motives. But he had no reason to care, and no reason to stay with her. Who was this craggy mountain man?

“Come on,” he said gently, pulling her hands away from her face and tilting her chin up with his crooked finger. “I figured I’d find you here and I brought you something for pain if you need it.” He removed a bottle of over-the-counter tablets from his jeans pocket and shook them. “Can you walk?”

She nodded, still confused by his care and unexpected gentleness after he’d smacked her ass, and after she’d attempted to wallop him. It overwhelmed her. More watery emotion threatened, but she drew a breath and stood tall. She hadn’t cried since everything had happened. She’d refused to. Crying was a luxury she couldn’t afford. She’d learned that as a child.

She wouldn’t be that weak little girl again. No way. She was going to survive if it was the last thing she did. She’d damn well go down guns blazing. The last thought made her chuckle to herself. Suddenly she was some Rambo chick? Yeah, right. A Rambo chick who threw a temper tantrum and got her butt smacked by a rugged dominant wild man.

Chapter Four

The walk to his cabin was awful, mostly because she’d already exhausted her short supply of energy getting to the Jeep and throwing her fit. They had to keep stopping for her to catch her breath, but when she finally threw her arms up and told him to leave her there, he only shook his head.

“I can’t,” she said pathetically. Yukon paused, looking quizzically at her. She shivered, again pulling the coat tighter. His mouth twisted, and he surprised her by wordlessly picking her up. He made it seem effortless, and she was too tired to fight him anyway. Plus, he smelled good. And even though he was bulky with muscle, he was comfy.

“For someone so determined, you’re whimpering and whining a lot,” he stated plainly. She didn’t fail to notice his breathing remained unlabored despite her weight and the incline.

---