Page 1 of Wild Mountain Ma n

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TEAGAN

This logging truck was ruining my life. The speed limit was forty going up the mountain on the main road through Seduction Summit, but apparently this guy missed the memo on that. He was going just under thirty for no reason whatsoever.

“How do you know he’s a guy?” I asked myself.

But try as I might to picture a woman driving this monstrosity stacked with what looked like tree trunks in the back, I couldn’t. Of course, it was a man. And, of course, this particular man was a pain in my backside.

But if that wasn’t bad enough, another truck came up behind me, lights blaring directly in my rearview mirror. Ugh.

I reached up and flipped the lever to block out the glare, then glanced at the clock again. It was after seven. My plan had been to be at the hotel and checked in with plenty of time to get dressed for the welcome reception. The judges would be there, as would all the other aspiring bakers in this national baking championship—a competition that offered a prize of fifty thousand dollars and help with setting up a bakery.

I took a deep breath and tried a visualization exercise. I’d learned that in college—right before I dropped out after failing a class freshman year. Some people weren’t cut out for university life, and I was one of them.

A loud bang jolted me out of my thoughts, and suddenly the steering wheel began jerking left. I tightened my grip on the wheel.

“What the hell?”

What just happened? Had the guy behind me gotten angry and shot out my tire? No, that was ridiculous. But something was definitely wrong, and I had no way to pull off the road.

I slowed to a stop, glancing at the truck behind me. I waited for him to lay on the horn, at which point I’d shrug and maybe even give him the middle finger. That was definitely out of character for me, though. Road rage wasn’t my thing.

I looked ahead to make sure no one was coming as the logging truck disappeared over the hill. Only as I stepped out of my white coupe did I notice flashing. The guy behind me had flipped on his hazard lights and his driver’s door was open too.

“Get back in your car!”

The male voice cut through the night air, bringing an immediate frown to my face. Who the heck was talking to me that way? I did not like being bossed around by anyone, let alone some tailgating, truck-driving whack?—

My thoughts cut off as the guy slammed his door shut and started walking determinedly toward me. My mouth actually fell open. I thought of something my grammy always said when I was a kid.

“Better shut that mouth, Teagan,” she’d say. “You don’t want to catch any flies.”

I immediately clamped my mouth shut. He was getting closer, and as impossible as it seemed, he was even hotter from a few feet away.

“It’s not safe,” the man said. “A car could come over that hill any second.”

I turned and looked, and my breath caught. He was right. I was standing on the road. Someone wouldn’t see me until it was too late.

“I need to check out what’s going on,” I said, pointing toward my car.

At the same time, I was already heading around the front of my car to the other side. The side that wouldn’t have me standing in the road.

“It’s still not safe there,” he said. “If someone comes along and hits my truck and pushes it into your car?—”

“You’ll be dead too,” I interrupted.

“Yeah, well, I’m willing to take that risk. What’s the problem?”

“Back passenger tire,” I said, pointing. “I get free roadside assistance. It came with the car warranty. I’ll just make a call…”

He narrowed his eyes at me, and those eyes were his best feature. They were brown, but a light-colored brown, not a deep chocolate brown like mine. His skin was rough, like he worked outside a lot. And he looked so big and strong. No wonder he didn’t fear a car coming over that hill. As strong as he appeared to be, he’d probably do more damage to the vehicle than it would to him.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. I was truly worried for his safety.

“You’re safest in the driver’s seat,” he said. “Buckled in. I’ll take care of the tire. Do you have a spare?”

“A spare what?” I asked.

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