Page 4 of Wild Mountain Ma n

I’ll meet you in the parking lot in ten minutes.We’ll go track something down.

I looked around. I couldn’t leave, could I? But none of the other contestants had spoken to me yet. Everyone seemed to have grouped up in the first thirty minutes or so of this reception. Or maybe they’d all gotten here earlier in the day and bonded in the lobby. Whatever the case, I was definitely the odd baker out.

I lifted my phone to my ear, pretending I was taking a call, and rushed from the room with a determined stride. Once I was in the lobby, I stopped to type backthank youbefore rushing out to stand in the freezing cold without a coat.

I regretted it within a couple of minutes. I could run to my room and grab it, but it would put me at risk of running into someone. Right now, I was hoping to make a clean getaway. In fact, I was standing off to the side in case anyone came through the lobby and saw me through the glass. Luckily, I always kept my driver’s license and debit card in my phone case, so I didn’t need to go back to get a purse or anything.

Exactly seven minutes after my text, the truck pulled into the parking lot. I recognized it immediately. It was a dark gray colorthat had a metallic sheen to it. A little fancier than I’d expect from a guy wearing a bomber jacket and faded, dusty-looking jeans.

“Hop in,” he said. “We have a little bit of a drive, but I think I’ve found the perfect place. I’m Krebs, by the way.”

My hero. I even felt a little swoony as I buckled my seatbelt with trembling hands, settling my phone on my lap.

“Teagan,” I said. “Thank you so much for doing this. I don’t want to be trouble. I just wasn’t sure about driving around on a spare.”

“I didn’t have plans. I was just going to go home and eat a bowl of chili and watch the sports channel. This sounds like much more fun. Have you eaten?”

I shook my head. “I sipped a little wine and was thinking about eating a little something, but it was all finger foods.”

I was starving. It hit me now. When was the last time I’d eaten? I’d had this morning, then grabbed a burger for lunch. That seemed like days ago.

“There’s a great diner here in town,” he said. “Miss Rosie’s. Or we could hit one of the restaurants in the next town over.”

“The diner sounds perfect,” I said. “I love places like that. Have you lived here long?”

I was suddenly very curious about the man in the driver’s seat. He might not even live in Seduction Summit.

“Nope,” he said. “Like a lot of people around here, I came to town when I heard they needed workers. A bunch of us are military vets. Word spreads when there’s money to be made.”

“What kind of work?”

“Most of us are loggers. A few work for the builders and developers. The whole town is a construction zone, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I didn’t.” I laughed. “I guess I had tunnel vision.”

“The old-timers are pretty pissed,” he said.

“I live in the suburbs. People are always pissed off about development, even if it makes total sense. You can’t stop progress.”

“This town sure tried.”

He flipped on his turn signal and pulled into a charming building with a sign readingMiss Rosie’s. Next to the large text was a picture of a cartoon woman with curly black hair and long eyelashes. She was holding a basket with a cartoon burger and fries.

“Adorable,” I said. “How long has this place been here?”

“Beats me. I moved here about four months ago. I’m renting an apartment in the next town over while I wait for my cabin to be built.”

“A log cabin?” I asked.

That was probably a stupid question. What other kind of cabins were there? I didn’t know. I just knew the coziness of log cabins had always fascinated me. I was in love with the idea of kicking my feet up in front of a fire while snow covered the ground outside. There was just something so cozy about cabins—something no other type of house could capture.

“Yep,” he said. “On the water. The lots are a real bargain compared to what you’d pay anywhere else. I think people are buying up land with plans to build vacation rentals.”

“Smart business idea,” I said. “My dad always said real estate is the best investment you can make.”

He cut the ignition and looked over at me. “Your dad is an investor?”

“Was. He died a few years ago.”

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