Page 4 of Connecting with the Mountain Man

Because this is Luke’s kid sister.

My best friend. My business partner. The man who’d absolutely throw me off a cliff if he caught me looking at her like this.

I drag my gaze away, wrenching my attention back to the sink like it personally offended me. “Luke know you’re wrecking the kitchen like this?”

Her lips purse, and she brushes past me, heading back to the front of the shop. “Luke’s not the boss of me.”

“Tell him that. I’ll wait.”

“Just fix the sink, Silas,” she calls over her shoulder. “Gosh you’re insufferable.”

“So are you.”

“Whatever, Silas.”

I watch her disappear into the other room, the sway of her hips doing absolutely nothing to help my current situation.

Hell.

I need to get out of here before I say or do something stupid.

Like pull her against the counter and find out how soft those curves really are. Give it to her so hard she won’t ever call me insufferable again. What am I even thinking?!

This is why I signed up for the mail order bride service. So I can get Eden Winters out of my head once and for all.

The front door swings shut behind me with a dull thud, the sound echoing in the quiet cabin. I drop my keys on the entryway table and scrub a hand over my face.

I shouldn't have stayed in the bakery as long as I did. Should've fixed the damn leak and left without poking the lioness. But Eden makes it too easy.

And I make it worse byenjoyingit.

I head straight to the kitchen, yanking open the fridge to grab a beer. The cold bottle sweats in my palm as I lean back against the counter, staring out the window at the majestic Ravencliff mountains wrapped in twilight.

Even out here, miles away from town, I swear I can still smell her cinnamon rolls. Burnt edges and all.

I take a long pull of the beer, but it does nothing to cool the heat lingering in my chest.

That woman…

Luke’s sister.

I remind myself for the hundredth time today.

It’s a rule I’ve repeated so often it might as well be carved into the wood of this cabin.

But damn if it’s not getting harder to follow.

With a sigh, I push off the counter and wander over to the worn leather armchair in the living room. My laptop sits on the side table, the screen dark. I flick it open, cracking my neck as the glow fills the space.

Might as well distract myself.

A new message sits in my inbox—Mountain Mates Notification: You’ve received a message from SugarDust.

A grin tugs at my lips.

Nowthisis the kind of distraction I need.

I click into the message, leaning back in my chair.

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