Page 2 of Chiseled Mountain Man

I reached out, afraid to try to push myself up again, like him pulling me up would be any different. But if I were completely honest about it, I’d admit that I wanted to touch the guy.

When he pocketed his phone and thrust out his arm, I felt tingly all over. Then his big hand wrapped around mine and all the air seeped out of my lungs. Having his big, rough hand around my much smaller, softer one did something to me. It was something I wouldn’t have expected over such a small thing.

He didn’t release me right away, even when I was standing. That meant we just stood there, my right hand in his, almost like we were shaking hands.

“I’m Bronte,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

He didn’t shake, though. Neither did I. I just stood there, looking into his eyes.

“I’m Sean,” he said. “You sure you’re okay?”

I should nod. My mind was telling my head to do just that, but nothing was happening. I was just staring at him like a moron.

“You know what?” he asked. “My cabin’s right here. Why don’t you come in and sit down for a couple of minutes? Make sure you’re okay.”

I should go back to the lodge, maybe grab some breakfast in the restaurant before going back to my room to shower and get ready. I had to be at the tent at ten o’clock for a full day of baking.

But instead, I found myself saying, “That would be great. If, you know, you could spare a glass of water.”

He released my hand and gave a nod. “Can do. Are you okay to walk?”

If I wasn’t, would he carry me? That was the question that went through my mind, and I found myself blushing under his intense stare.

Everything about him was intense. I was starting to learn the definition of the word swoony. Just looking at him made me feel like I could faint, and I had a feeling that had nothing to do with my lightheadedness from earlier.

“Yes,” I said, giving up on my fantasy of feeling his hands and arms around my legs and back as he held me against him.

We walked side by side as I searched my mind for something to say. The silence was just too awkward, and he wasn’t making a move to break it. I had a feeling he was completely comfortable not saying a word.

“I’m part of the baking competition happening at the lodge,” I finally said. “Have you heard about it?”

“Nope,” he said.

This wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe I should have turned down his offer to rest in this tiny cabin in front of us for a while. But we were almost to the front door. There was no backing out now.

“I was just doing my morning run to wake up,” I said. “I do it every day. The woman at the front desk said this was the only trail around here. I guess at a ski resort, you wouldn’t expect a walking trail, so that’s no surprise.”

I winced at my own wordiness. When I was nervous, I tended to babble. I had a feeling this guy was not a fan of babbling.

“Not many people run by here,” he said. “Or walk. Too cold.”

He climbed the porch steps ahead of me and opened the door, spreading his arm wide to indicate I should enter. I did my best not to trip over my own feet as I crossed the threshold and found myself inside a cabin that was nothing at all likeI expected. I figured on a bachelor pad, or at least something very primitive. But instead, there was a nice leather couch and matching recliner in front of a fireplace. The couch had a fringed beige throw folded and draped over the back.

What really stood out about the place, though, was the décor. Bear carvings everywhere. But on closer inspection, I saw they weren’t all bears. To my left was a giant wood carving of a golden retriever, and near the fireplace was a boy with a towel draped over his arm. Everything was made out of wood, including the towel.

“Have a seat,” he said as he breezed past me through the cabin, heading over to the kitchen, which was to my left.

I stopped next to the couch and tried to look over my shoulder at my butt. The last thing I wanted to do was sit if I had snow and mud all over my pants. I still felt a little wet back there from my fall. I looked up, and our eyes met over the small round table that sat between the kitchen and the living area.

“Don’t worry about the couch,” he said. “It’s not real leather.”

That shifted my gaze to the couch. It looked like real leather to me, but I wouldn’t know the difference. Still, I swatted at my butt with my hands before perching awkwardly on the edge of the seat cushion while I tried to calm my racing heart.

I could write it off as adrenaline from the fall, but deep down, I knew it had nothing to do with that. It was this man. Even looking at him got my pulse pounding. No one had ever done that to me.

I’d had crushes, of course, going all the way back to middle school, but this was next level. This was an attraction I hadn’t experienced before. And now that I was in his house, I wasn’t sure what to do about it.

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