Page 10 of The Mountain Man's Curvy Boss

My heart seizes in my chest. What the hell? I sit up, sheets tangling around my legs. After everything we shared, after last night... how could she lie to me like this?

"I still have a lot to think about..." Her voice trails off as she moves further away.

I press a fist against my mouth, reeling. She used me. Played me for the love-struck fool I am. The resort, my home, the land I've poured my blood, sweat, and tears into for years - she only sees dollar signs. Not the beauty, the memories, the legacy.

How could I let her get under my skin so easily? Let myself fall for her manipulative charms? I was so sure she was different. That what we had was real.

But it was just a con—a means to an end for her. I was a pawn in her little game. Well, not anymore. I swing out of bed and reach for my jeans, crumpled on the floor.

She made her choice. And it's not me. Not the resort. I was a blind idiot to think a sophisticated city girl could ever be content with a simple mountain man like me.

I tug on my boots with jerky movements, my jaw clenched tight. Fine. She wants to rip my heart out and destroy my home, she can go right ahead. I won't stop her.

But I sure as hell won't stand around and watch her do it. Watch her walk away without a backward glance. Tears sting my eyes as I grab my flannel and yank open the bedroom door. I'm done.

7

MADISON

Idip my paintbrush into the tray of creamy beige paint, then drag it along the lobby wall in smooth, even strokes. The repetitive motion is soothing, but my mind won't stop churning. Where is Archer? I could really use his help with this. And his company.

Last night was... incredible. The way his rough yet gentle hands roamed my body, the heat of his kisses trailing down my neck. I gave myself to him completely. But this morning, he was like a different person. Cold. Distant. He brushed past me out the door without so much as a "good morning."

I swallow the lump in my throat as I remember the sting of his rejection. I tried to get him to come and help me by asking Ivy to call him. But he brushed her off, too, claiming he had other tasks to do. Other tasks more important than me, apparently.

I sigh and step back to survey my work. The wall is only half-painted, much like my uncertain future. Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them back. No. I refuse to give up on us, on this, so easily. What Archer and I have could be something special. It'sreal and messy and passionate and worth fighting for. And that's precisely what I intend to do.

I set down my paintbrush with a determined thunk. Archer is the most stubborn, frustrating, wonderful man I've ever met. And I... I love him. I love his quiet strength, his hidden vulnerability, his crooked smile. I need to find out why he was so rude to me this morning and sort things out. Leaving things like this isn’t an option.

Squaring my shoulders, I stride purposefully across the lobby. I'm going to track down that infuriating, sexy mountain man and knock some sense into his gorgeous, thick skull. We have something amazing between us, and I won't let him throw it away. I'll make him see that he's not just hired help to me. He's a part of my future.

Ivy, seated behind the reception desk, glances up from her computer as I approach. "Hey, Madison. Finished painting already?"

I shake my head, determination etched on my face. "Not quite. I need to find Archer. Have you seen him?"

A knowing smile plays at the corners of Ivy's mouth. "Last I heard, he was heading to Cabin 12 to fix another leaky faucet. Want me to call him for you?"

"No, thanks. I think this is a conversation best had in person." I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Wish me luck."

Ivy gives me a supportive thumbs-up. "Go get him, girl. And Madison?" Her expression softens. "Archer's a good man. A bit rough around the edges, but his heart's in the right place. He cares about you, even if he's not always great at showing it."

Her words bolster my resolve. "Thanks, Ivy. I won't give up on him." With a final nod, I set off across the property, my boots crunching on the gravel path.

I march out into the bright mountain sunshine and scan the sprawling resort grounds for any sign of Archer. A light springbreeze carries the scent of pine and wildflowers, but I'm too focused on my mission to appreciate the beautiful day.

It doesn't take long to spot Archer's battered blue pickup truck parked beside Cabin 12. My heart hammers in my chest as I approach the rustic wooden structure. Through the window, I can see Archer crouched beneath the kitchenette sink, his broad shoulders straining against his flannel shirt as he works.

No guests in sight. Perfect.

Gathering my courage, I step up to the cabin door and ease it open. The hinges creak softly, announcing my presence. Archer stiffens, his head snapping up to meet my gaze. Stormy blue eyes lock onto mine, a mix of surprise and wariness swirling in their depths.

"Madison." His voice is low, guarded. "What are you doing here?"

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "We need to talk, Archer. About last night. About us."

He straightens slowly, setting his wrench aside. The air between us crackles with tension, the unspoken emotions hanging heavy in the small space. My pulse races as I step forward, ready to lay my heart on the line.

“What about it?”

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