Page 7 of Merciless Mountain Man

“I’m hoping to eventually buy one of these smaller cabins,” she said. “Maybe we’ll be neighbors someday.”

“I’d like that,” I said. “You could sneak into my cabin and find me naked again.”

Too soon. I definitely shouldn’t have mentioned that. I fully expected her to look down shyly. Maybe not even speak to me after this. It wouldn’t surprise me if she changed the subject, at the very least.

“Yeah, about that,” she said. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Is that weird? You’re the first naked man I’ve ever seen.”

She just shrugged at that and grabbed her glass, taking a long sip of tea. I had to remind myself that what she was drinking was non-alcoholic. This wasn’t lowered inhibitions or liquid courage. This woman was confident, assertive. She knew what she wanted, and she went after it—just like me.

Maybe I’d finally met my match.

“You’ve never seen a man naked before?” I asked. “How is that possible? You’re in your late twenties, right?”

“Twenty-three,” she said. “I guess the suit makes me look older.”

It wasn’t the suit. It was everything about her—her confidence, her self-assuredness, the way she held her head high when she walked… I had dated women my age all throughout my twenties and thirties and yet, I’d never met a woman like her. No one, at any age, had carried themselves with this level of self-assuredness.

“It’s always guys like that one.”

It took me a second to realize she was nodding toward the bartender. I followed her gaze. The guy was cracking jokes with one of the construction guys I recognized from around town,also former military. Every joke landed flat, even though he was obviously trying to come across as one of the guys.

“No offense to him,” she said.

I doubted the bartender would take offense, even if he heard the remark, but I completely understood what she meant. The bartender appeared to be in his mid-to-late twenties and likely had very little experience with the opposite sex—not for lack of trying, of course.

“So you’ve never been with a man?” I asked.

I kept my voice low as I spoke. That also meant I had to lean closer to her, taking in her intoxicating scent. She smelled like apples. I wondered what the story behind that was.

“Nope,” she said. “It’s on my birthday bucket list.”

“Birthday bucket list?”

“I turn twenty-four in three months. I have a list of things I want to accomplish in my twenty-fourth year. One of them is getting laid.”

I nearly spit out the swig of gin and tonic I’d just swallowed. Somehow, I managed to gulp it down and catch my breath as I processed what she’d just said.

“What else is on your bucket list?” I finally asked.

“Save up ten thousand dollars toward the down payment on my cabin. Read twelve books—one a month. And take a run on my treadmill every morning before work.”

I had to admit, out of all of those, having sex for the first time was probably the most fun. But I’d never had a bucket list, birthday or otherwise. I didn’t have much right to speak on it.

“You can knock that first item out tonight,” I said.

After the words were out, I realized how they sounded. I didn’t mean to offer—although I’d certainly volunteer myself for the duty.

No, I meant that she had the power to pick out any single guy she wanted and have sex tonight. Hell, she could get it out of theway with the bartender. All she had to do was leave her phone number on the bar with her paid check, and the deal would be all but done.

But that thought clenched my gut for another reason. It felt like a kick to the abdomen. I didn’t want her to sleep with the bartender. Or anyone else. I didn’t want her to sleep with anyone but me.

But I’d never been with a virgin. Well, unless my first time counted, since it was her first time too. We’d been awkward and nervous, and it was almost embarrassing to remember.

But now, as a man who knew what he was doing in bed, I’d never taken a woman’s virginity. And that was an important distinction. It would be a big responsibility, and I wouldn’t want to mess it up.

“Are you offering?” she asked again.

Her question froze my movements. I’d just picked up my drink glass, ready to take another sip. As I raised the glass to my lips, a dozen different responses ran through my head. I took a hefty swig, finishing off its contents, then set the glass down and stared straight ahead.

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