Page 33 of Orphan Girl's Mountain Men

Even though I keep my back to him, I hear his footsteps as he walks up the center aisle—closer, closer—until I can feel his body heat at my back. A knot rises in my throat. I caution myself not to turn around. Temptation throbs in my stomach.

"You know you're doing that wrong."

"Doing what wrong?" To my knowledge, I've followed Dean's directions to a T.

He doesn't answer. Instead, I feel his breath against my neck, and goosebumps break out over my skin as he inhales. Oh God.

"I smell like horse manure," I blurt.

"No, you don't," he murmurs. "You smell divine."

I sigh, swallow, and finally turn around. "Reed?—"

He doesn't let me finish. Instead, he brushes his lips lightly over mine. Desire pounds loudly throughout my body, pulsating between my legs. Images of us together flash through my mind. I try again. "Reed, please..."

"Tell me to stop," he says, his kiss feather-soft, no more than a breath against my lips. His arm sneaks around my waist, pulling me gently closer.

"Tell me to stop, and I will."

I open my mouth... but the words get trapped in my throat. I taste his grin as he kisses me for real—and the broom clatters from my hands to the floor.

CHAPTER 12

Lennon

"Daddy?"

My daughter sits in her car seat, the window open, her hand catching the air rushing past.

"Yes, precious?" I answer distractedly, flicking my blinker on to merge into another lane.

"Why were you so mean to Princess Ice Cream today?"

I glance briefly in the rearview mirror. She's looking at me now, her eyes serious, a little sad.

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't say hello to her when she came in," she says. "And you didn't say 'thank you' when she handed you the milk at breakfast. Don't you like her?"

"It's not that I don't like her, sweetie."

"Is she a bad person?"

I sigh, guilt pricking me. "No. She's not a bad person."

"Then why are you mean to her?"

"I didn't know I was being mean, honey."

That's a lie.

I just lied to my own daughter.

Worse, she knows it. I catch the hurt flashing in her eyes. Deep down, I realize I'm being an ass—but I can't seem to stop.Being rude is the only way I know to keep my distance, because if I let my guard down, if I start being friendly, I might end up having to admit that I like her a whole lot more than I ought to. And that would be a real disaster.

And now, on top of being an ass to someone who doesn't deserve it, my daughter's noticing. I'm losing her respect. Worse—I'm lying to her to cover up my own bad behavior. I deserve to lose her respect. I can't keep going like this. I need a different plan—a better one. But what?

"I'm sorry, honey. I promise I'll be nice to Princess Ice Cream from now on."

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