Page 82 of Mountain Boss

“Eyes up here.” My voice is a rumble.

Courtney slowly lifts her gaze.

And when her eyes meet mine, I take a step forward.

Her lips part, and I hear her little exhale, andfuck me, I want to put my mouth on hers.

Ineedto put my mouth on hers.

A car door slams, and Courtney glances past me.

Fisher and his guys have climbed out of his vehicle, and I can spot another vehicle coming up the drive behind them.

“Lunch in thirty.” Courtney repeats herself, then turns and hurries away.

Chapter 60

Courtney

The Food Hallis noisy as all the guests get in line to grab lunch.

Cook made caramelized-onion grilled cheese sandwiches and a thick tomato soup. I got to taste some earlier, and it’s damn near magical. And perfect since the weather is decidedly starting to turn cold.

I’m trying to hold out a little longer, but I’m going to have to turn the heat on in my cabin soon.

“Come on, darlin’, get in line.” One of the guests stops beside me, holding his arm out.

“Oh, I’ll wait for you all?—”

“No can do. Ladies first,” the older man insists, and since my stomach is growling, I cave and move into the line.

The first evening, when the guests arrived and everyone was still at the Lodge, we employees sat at our own picnic table. But now that everyone is back and the guests have bonded with their guides, it looks like seating is a free-for-all.

As I shuffle closer to the food, I hear the door open, and I can’t stop myself from glancing over my shoulder.

Sterling.

His hair is damp. His flannel is only half buttoned. And he looks so good, and so much like he did the first time I saw him.

He moves into line behind us, and before I do something stupid, like drool, I look away.

The man next to me starts talking about the fish he caught, and the man in front of us chimes in, claiming he’s exaggerating. So the first man pulls out his phone, insisting I look at the photos.

“It’s a big fish.” I nod.

“See?” he calls back to his friend.

I don’t know fuck all about fish. Mine come breaded and frozen. But sure, it looks big.

The line moves forward, and I take a plate from Cook, sandwich already cut in two and spread around the base of a bowl of soup. A pack of crackers is on the corner of the plate, and I smile at Cook when he winks and drops two more packets on my plate.

No one else is paying attention, so I don’t have to feel embarrassed.

I don’t know how Cook put together that I need a little help in the food department, but whenever there’s something nonperishable, like crackers, on the menu, he always gives me extra.

Maybe he’s noticed that I don’t put anything in the fridges, and maybe he knows I don’t have a fridge of my own, but no matter his reasoning, I appreciate it.

With my water bottle hooked around my finger, I pick up my plate and search for an open seat.

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