Page 11 of Mountain Boss

I have some eye candy for the next three months, even if his flavor is sour.

And—I inhale deeply—I’m surrounded by the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever seen.

Not all bad, indeed.

The listing for this job was only for three months, a temp position, starting tomorrow—October first to December thirty-first.

I was hoping to dazzle my new boss with my work ethic and abilities in an effort to get those three months extended. But now I’m thinking I need to utilize my downtime to find a new position for the new year. Which sounds all fine and good on paper, but if this year has taught me anything, it’s that it’s not easy—or quick—to find a job that also includes room and board.

Sighing, I turn around and head for my Jeep.

Maybe if I keep my spending to the absolute minimum and save every freaking dollar I make working here at Black Bossy Lodge, I could have enough for a deposit on an apartment by January first. Then I’d just need to find aregular joband not one that includes a living space. And for once in my life, I’d have some separation between work and sleep.

I open the passenger door and pull my backpack off the floor, slipping my arms through the straps. Then I move to the rear of the Jeep, where I sling another bag over my shoulder before I lug my large suitcase out, setting it wheel-side down on the gravel drive.

Last, I tuck a small box into the crook of my arm and accept that’s enough for the first trip.

For a moment I debate whether I should park closer to the Laundry Cabin rather than in the driveway. But Mr. Black didn’t tell me to move my Jeep, and parking on thelawnmight piss him off more.

Opting to leave it where it is, I slam the rear door shut and grab the suitcase handle with my free hand.

My luggage bumps over the gravel until I turn off the drive and onto the dirt walking path.

It’s only been five, maybe ten minutes since I did this walk with Mr. Hot and Cold, but I can already tell it’s darker out, the day slipping past sunset and into dusk.

And I can’t help but think about bears.

Chapter 8

Sterling

I runmy hand through my hair.

You can’t go out there.

Helping her move in would completely defeat the point of putting her in the Laundry Cabin.

Below me, Courtney stops at the bottom of the steps leading to her cabin and releases the handle of her suitcase. And I watch as it does a slow tip forward into the dirt.

“Super.” She doesn’t say it loud, but out here, in the silence, voices travel.

Not as far as you might think, not in the woods. Which is how people get lost so easily. But with line of sight and the windows open—because at eighty-five hundred feet above sea level, open windows are nature’s air conditioning—I can just make out her words.

Muttered curses float into my bedroom, and I take a step back, making sure I’m out of view should she turn around and glance up.

I didn’t put her in the Laundry Cabin because it’s the closest to my house.

And I certainly didn’t put her there because I can see her front door from my bedroom window.

I put her there because it has a bunk in the back.

Because even if I trust my guys with my life, I’m not putting a woman in a cabin with five men. People need privacy. And I know my men don’t give a fuck about changing in front of each other, but that would change with a lady in their midst.

And I can’t just put her in one of the guest cabins; it could be seen as preferential treatment. Not to mention the fact that she’d have to move into the Laundry Cabin when all the guest cabins end up in use anyway.

This saves a step.

And as my new maintenance person, she’s also responsible for cleaning, which includes laundry. So, really, it makes sense.

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