Page 4 of Grumpy Mountain Man

I couldn’t figure me out right now, either. None of this was like me, but I’d followed her in here like a lost puppy.

“It’s something my pops always said,” I blurted. “If you’re going to win this competition, don’t you need to be the kind of person who can handle any baking disaster?”

Was that even a thing? A baking disaster?

“I’m sure it was something I did,” she said. “I checked the recipe. I must have left something out.”

She headed over to a phone on the counter, lifting it and staring at the screen. I rounded the end of the table to take a closer look at the cake. It was definitely caved in the center. Normally, I’d say ice it up and grab a fork, but for a competition, it probably needed to look good.

“The funny thing is, I’ve made this cake at least a hundred times before and this has never happened,” she said, still staring at her screen. “I can’t figure out what I did wrong.”

“You’re going to ice it anyway, aren’t you?” I asked, noting the bowl of ingredients with a spoon next to the cake.

That brought her gaze back to my face. My body instantly warmed at the eye contact. Yeah, this woman was definitely doing something to me—something I hadn’t experienced before. Ever.

“Yes, but I need to slice it, so it has to look decent,” she said.

“Take the higher part of the cake, cut it off, and use the icing to hold it all together.”

Her face changed again. She seemed to go through a series of emotions before finally tearing up.

No. Not tears. I didn’t want to see this woman cry.

“Or you could just start over,” I rushed to add.

She shook her head, and a tear fell from her right eye, making a path down her cheek. “I don’t have enough ingredients, and I’m running out of time. Any minute now, people are going to start showing up. Everything starts at ten o’clock.”

That last part got my attention. “It’s seven, you said. Plenty of time to run to the store and come back.”

She glanced at the cake before returning her attention to me. “Too risky. I’d have to pack everything up, throw out this cake somewhere, then drive to town and come back and start over. By then, people will be awake and looking out their windows and stuff, right?”

She was asking me? Like I’d know.

“Thank you.”

Those words from her shocked me. Her eyes were no longer teary, but they were filled with warmth. It was doing things to me that I didn’t like. I felt far more comfortable battling an erection when I took in that gorgeous face and the curves I could make out beneath that long puffer coat. This was doing something to my heart. It was like a magnetic force was pulling me toward her.

I had to get to know this woman better.

No, I couldn’t let that happen. Not with a tourist who was just going to fly out of town as soon as her business here was over. No way was I going for a short-term fling. I was done with that. For good.

“Good luck with your competition,” I said, lifting my coffee cup in salute. “I’m rooting for you.”

And with that, I tromped across the tent and pushed my way through the flap, not bothering to zip it back. I had to get out of here while I still had my wits about me.

3

DAKOTA

Idid not belong here. That became clear sometime around noon. Right before we broke for lunch. I held it in and continued to pretend I wasn’t an insecure mess, as all around me, my new friends talked about their plans to make a career out of this.

“You okay?” my roommate Hailey asked as we walked together toward the tent.

Out of the corner of my eye, I checked out the area where I’d assumed my hunky mountain man would be working all day. No sign of him or anyone else. The lodge must have sent them packing. That almost disappointed me as much as my baking aspirations going up in flames.

I came to a dead stop at Hailey’s question. She had to backtrack a little because she didn’t realize I was going to be stopping. The concern in her eyes almost made me cry.

“I should drop out,” I said. “I can’t do this.”

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