Page 6 of Mountain Boss

“Sorry.”

Sorry?

All he has to say is sorry?

His warm grip still encompasses my hand as he attempts to literally ruinmy life.

“Did you hire someone else? Because if the maintenance role is filled, I can take a different position. Anything.” I know I sound desperate. But that’s becauseI amdesperate.

He shakes his head again, his damp hair shifting with the movement. “No, I just—I can’t have you working here.”

My mouth pulls into a frown. “Why?”

“This is a working lodge. And there’s only one cabin for all the employees to sleep in.” He says it seriously. Like it’s some sort of big deal.

I nod. “Yeah, that’s fine. I can sleep anywhere.”

“It’s not fine.” He grits the words out.

“Why?” I ask because I really don’t understand.

Hearing voices, I glance over and see a pair of men walking through the woods toward us.

A quick tug on my hand pulls me forward and off-balance.

My head jerks back to face Mr. Black as I stumble.

He loosens his grip, and my hands dart out automatically. Catching myself against the closest surface.

The heat is instant.

But not just where my palms are pressed against his bare stomach.

No, the warmth of his skin is just the beginning.

My panic is still real, but the lust from before is fighting its way back to attention.

“Can you fix a well pump?” His muscles flex with each word, and the feel of it has me snatching my hands back.

“A well pump?”

He’s even closer now, and I’m forced to tip my head back to make eye contact.

“Yeah, do you know how to fix a busted well pump?” He moves like he’s going to cross his arms, then realizes there isn’t enough space between us for his biceps and lowers them.

“Do you have internet?” I ask my own question.

Mr. Black dips his chin. “This is a lodge, not a cave.”

Such an attitude.

“Okay, well, if I have the internet, then I can fix it.” I sort of lie.

Of fucking course I don’t know how to fix a well pump.

I’ve spent the majority of my life living in an RV where the water comes from a hose. Then in dorms and apartments, where my water comes from the city. But it doesn’t mean I won’t look it up and try. I’ll master scuba gear if it means I can stay.

He’s back to shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t stay.”

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