Page 10 of The Mountain Man's Runaway Bride

He nods.

“No family?”

His jaw tightens. “Not anymore.”

Oh.

I don’t press. But something inside me aches at the way he says it.

As we head back toward the cabin, I glance over and catch him tilting his head strangely. Squinting just slightly, like he’s trying to focus on something in the distance. He turns his head slightly so his left ear is facing in the direction of his previous stare.

I follow his gaze, but don’t see something. The hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I was just… checking something.” He clears his throat. “Come on. We should start back. We could both use something to eat.”

We walk in companionable silence, the breeze rustling the trees around us. A hawk circles overhead. Water from the stream trips over more rocks.

And still, I can feel him beside me—this quiet, mysterious man who doesn’t talk much but listens more deeply than anyone I’ve ever met. Who catches me when I fall. Who pulls rocks from streams and doesn’t make me feel like an idiot for nearly dunking myself under water.

I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t know what will happen next.

But I know this: I’m drawn to this man. Like June bugs to a porch light.

It’s terrifying. Thrilling. Impossible to say which is stronger.

At the moment, I’m not sure which feeling I’d prefer.

FOUR

KNOX

Stepping under the shower head, I flinch as ice cold water saturates me.

Hands braced against the shower wall, I stand under the stream. Jaw clenched. Waiting for the water to do the trick.

Waiting for the water to cut the flow of blood to my cock so it’ll stop standing at attention like it’s bed check time at basic training.

After spending most of yesterday showing my guest around, I went to bed with her scent still clinging to me. Thoughts of a brunette beauty flowed through my head all night.

I woke up so hard, my dick might as well be cut from marble.

It was all I could do not to pull the runaway bride out of my bed and kiss her until she wants me every bit as badly as I want her. Like I’m a God damn caveman.

I wonder what she tastes like.

For fuck’s sake.

My cock growing more slack, I face the water head-on. Willing the ice cold flow to knock some sense into me. As the water flows, I repeat the same lines in my head.

She’s not staying.

This is temporary.

You aren’t relationship material.

When those don’t work, and I find myself thinking about the way she bites her bottom lip when she’s trying not to laugh, I add another one.

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