Page 9 of Grumpy Mountain Man

The restaurant had candles on each table, and the flickering light cast a glow on her face, making her even more beautiful. Her eyes seemed to dance in the light as she laughed and talked and slowly sipped wine.

All I could think about was how much I wanted to kiss those lips.

“I mean, I could check out and save money on the hotel room, even though I’m only paying half,” she said, making me realize I’d drifted away from the conversation with thoughts of what I wanted to do with her. “I mean, if I’m not going to be in the competition, I should check out of the hotel, right?”

The thought of her packing up and leaving town made my chest tighten. No, she couldn’t leave. Not now. Not when we were just getting to know each other.

Of course, deep down, I knew this was the perfect time for her to leave. Every second in her company had me more invested in this. Which meant it’d be harder to see her walk away.

And she would walk away. This could only be temporary since she didn’t live here.

“My roommate met some guy before she came here,” Dakota said. “He flew all the way across the country to be with her. Can you believe that?” She laughed. “The good news is they live not too far apart out in Montana. But he got a room at the lodge, and she’ll be sleeping there every night, I guess. She’s clearly in love.”

“Your roommate’s in the baking competition, I take it?” I asked.

Dakota nodded, tearing off a small bite of bread but pausing to speak before sliding it into her mouth. “She’s really good at it. Born baker. That’s one of the reasons I feel like I made a big mistake coming here.”

As she chomped her bread, my stomach clenched again. “I wouldn’t call it a mistake,” I said. “You met me, after all.”

I tossed her my pathetic effort at a charming smile. I was kind of known as a grump among my friends and family. Smiling didn’t come naturally to me. I always looked at the downside of things.

Right now, though, someone wouldn’t know it by watching me with Dakota. I was trying to turn around her negativity about coming here, after all.

No, my negativity was in knowing that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t work. I tried it while I was in the military. It had taken all of a month for us to grow apart. She had a life in Ohio, and I was stationed in Texas.

“That’s why I don’t want to leave,” Dakota said. “I mean, it could get far worse than hanging out at a ski lodge for a few days and having dinner with a gorgeous lumberjack. Not that I’dexpect you to take me to dinner every night or anything. No, I didn’t mean that.”

Blushing, she looked down at her plate. She’d ordered grilled chicken and vegetables while I had a porterhouse and potatoes. Quite the contrast.

But taking her to dinner every night wasn’t what I was thinking about. She’d packed a lot into that last statement, and my mind was still working to unpack it all.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” I asked.

Her eyes widened as she seemed to realize what she’d just said. “Yeah, I mean, it’s kind of obvious. Didn’t you see all the women looking at you as the hostess walked us to our table?”

“No, I didn’t. My attention was on you. Only you.”

Electricity seemed to zing back and forth between us. I held my breath, waiting to see what she’d say next. Her face had once again taken on that light pink hue that told me she was blushing.

When it became clear she wasn’t going to respond, I rushed to lighten the mood a little. “I’m not really a lumberjack. I mean, I work on a logging crew, but I define myself as a construction guy more than anything. That’s the world I came from.”

“And now you chop down trees,” she said. “Wait, does that sound like I’m making light of your work? I didn’t mean to do that.”

She looked so embarrassed, I wanted to do what I could to reassure her she’d done nothing wrong. “Not at all.” I shook my head. “For me, work isn’t my life. It’s a way to make a living. Plus, it’s important to me to be outside all day, even in this weather.”

I gestured toward the window. The snow was starting to come down outside, which was great news for the ski lodge. As long as it didn’t make the main road up the mountain inaccessible like it had a couple of weeks ago, I loved seeing the ground covered in white.

“Anytime in my life a job has confined me indoors, it felt like prison,” I said.

“I love the outdoors,” she said. “But I don’t really want to work outside—especially not year-round. Even working in that tent this morning… Yeah, too cold for me.”

“Didn’t they have heaters?”

She smiled. “They didn’t help much. I’m sure for those who stuck around after lunch, it eventually warmed up with all those ovens.”

“So I should never take you camping.”

The words fell out of my mouth. They were said in a flirtatious way. But I didn’t want to push her too far, too fast.

---