Page 7 of The Beast of the Mountain
“I don’t think there’s a thing in this world you’re not cut out for, Riley.”
“Rugby. The NFL. Portraiture painting. Goat herding. Anything that requires hand-eye coordination. I think there’s plenty of things I’m not cut out for.”
Bear stares at me blankly, and I don’t blame him. I’m being flippant because I’m exhausted and smell like death from trekking through a forest with a man the size and shape of a bulldozer.
A ruggedly handsome bulldozer, sure. But after a day like today, I don’t want to be strung along.
“Okay, like every insect in this forest, I’ll bite. Why did you take me on a crazy circuitous route through the woods?”
He smiles as he rocks back onto his heels and folds his arms below his expansive chest. “I wanted to spend time with you, Riley. I think you’re great. As I said, can you blame a man for eking out as much time as he can with an angel like yourself?”
I’d laugh if I wasn’t so… confused? Intrigued? Turned… on? I’m not exactly sure what to think because one—I don’t know how I feel about the pet name ‘angel.’ And two—we’ve just met and this man seems smitten with me. No man is smitten with me, especially one as handsome and… strong… rugged… masculine… and okay, I could keep going but I think I’ve made it clear why I’m confused.
Why is this man interested?
“Riley is fine,” I say after a beat. “I’m not fond of pet names.”
He wipes his hands off in front of him. “Done.”
“And two, we don’t know each other.”
“I’m trying to get to know you, Riley. I want to know everything about you.”
“Why?”
“Is it that crazy?”
I sigh. I guess not. I’m just not used to the attention. Then again, I never put myself in any situations where I could get this kind of attention. I spend most of my time in front of my computer, hammering out stories that thrill me. I spend so much time in the fictional world that I think I’ve forgotten how to interact in the real world.
And Bear’s as real as it gets.
“I guess not. So long as you stop stringing me along. Tell me the truth, Bear. How far away from your cabin are we?”
He takes a step toward me and this time I maintain my ground. He reaches out for me, brushing off a stray strand of hair from my cheek and pinning it behind my ear.
“No more than a couple minutes away.”
Warmth blooms in my chest as I look at Bear.Thumpthumpthump.My heart is pounding all the way up in my ears as the featherlight touch of his fingertips lingers on my cheek.
For the first time in my life, I want more. I crave his touch. Miss it. And I don’t want it to be soft like that. I want to feel all of the power in those hands. In his muscles. I want to feel the weight of him bare down on me. I want… him.
I think. I don’t know. This is crazy but I can’t deny the feelings surging through me. Maybe it’s the stress—from the deadline, the bad luck, and the scam. I don’t know. Or maybe these feelings are real.
“Do you trust me?”
I think about it for a moment, even though a part of me already knows the answer. There’s something about Bear’s presence that has a soothing effect on me. I feel safe and protected and for the first time in a long time—wanted.
“I do,” I say.
“Good,” he says, holding his hand out for me to take. “This way.”
When I take his hand, everything feels right. And as we march, side-by-side down the path, for the first time in a long time, I feel a spark inside me. Growing and aching to burst.
You’d thinkafter a hike like that, swallowing bugs and sweating from orifices that shouldn’t sweat, I’d be done with nature, but as Bear drives me down the mountain in his old truck, I can’t keep my eyes off the passing trees. Birds soar through the air. I swear I spotted a moose, but it was probably my imagination running wild again. I thought this trip would spark it, but now it’s running rampant.
Especially when I’m looking at Bear. I can’t help but imagine how his muscles would look looming over me, caging me beneath him. How they’d feel against my body. How his strong hands could hold me in place as he…Phew.
Rain-check on the daydreams.
