Page 4 of Chosen for the Mountain Man

Too late.

“I don’t mind a little sweat,” I say, my voice breathier than I expect.

His smile shows a hint of surprise before he sweeps me into his arms, lifting me off the ground.

Oh…I’m in trouble.

His scent hits me first—smoky and earthy, like the woods after a gentle rain. His muscled arms, wrapping around me, press me tight against his hard chest. So warm. I bury my face in his shoulder, inhaling deeply, and it makes my head spin. My fingers clutch at the back of his neck.

He laughs, his chest vibrating against mine. “You okay? I’m not squeezing too hard, am I?”

I pull back, face burning up. “No! I’m...um…good. I’m just surprised that you really are 6’6”. Guys tend to lie on their profiles and give themselves an inch or two.”

“Lying’s not my style,” he says. “Besides, I’ve no need to add an inch or two…anywhere.”

Did he just say that? Gulp.

He studies me, his molten chocolate eyes traveling over my body as he sets me down. “You’re even more beautiful than in your photos, Ciara.”

I blush harder, feeling like I might actually melt into a puddle right here. “Ditto,” I say.I’m so lame.

He chuckles, the tension at how close his face is to mine making me squirm. Then he moves to grab my bags. “Come on,” he says, gesturing toward the cabin. “I’ll show you to your room. You can get settled while I grab a quick shower.”

I nod, following him into the cabin, watching his muscles flex under his clothes. “Thanks for taking my bags. You didn’t need to.”

He flashes a grin over his shoulder. “Ciara, I’ve been trying to impress you for weeks, the least you can do is let me carry a couple of bags.”

“Well, since you put it that way,” I tease, as I glance around the interior of his cabin.

It’s just as charming as the outside—rustic but cozy, with a fire crackling in the hearth and a fluffy rug. He leads me down a short hallway to a room with a queen-sized bed and an en-suite bathroom.

“Make yourself at home,” he says, setting my bags down near a dresser. “There’s drinks and snacks in the kitchen. Help yourself to anything there. I won’t be long.”

I nod, and smile. “Thanks. But please, no rush. I’m fine.”

He hesitates for a second, then turns and walks away, his broad back disappearing down the hall. I let out a breath and collapse onto the bed, staring up at the wooden beams above.

What have I gotten myself into?

And, more importantly, how am I going to keep it up without completely falling apart? What will happen when Max discovers the real me—flaws, limitations, and all?

CHAPTER 3

MAX

Ican't believe she's here.

MsWrite28, Ciara Owens, the digital goddess I've been talking to for the past two weeks, materializing in real life right before my eyes.

The moment I saw her standing next to her car, my heart started to hammer in my chest like a rookie about to go on his first tour.

She's even more breathtaking in person—that strawberry blond hair, those gray eyes. I'm struck by how...young she looks. Not in a bad way, just...not at all what I expected. Besides, in how she carries herself there's a certain strength and resilience. It’s so attractive. And I can’t get that sweet blue-green sundress with tiny daisies she’s wearing out of my head. How the fabric clings to her breasts just enough to make my mouth water and how the hem flutters against her thigh making me wish I could follow it with my fingertip. It’s part of the reason I needed to get to the shower, and…take care of some…ahem…business…before getting back out to her.

Without a massive hard-on.

We’ll see how long that lasts.

The last thing I want to do is scare her off.

---