Page 8 of Her Mountain Boss
I shake my head slowly. “No. I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
“Ever?” he asks, frowning, his eyes bright and intense.
“Nope.”
He exhales shakily, his mouth opening as if he’s about to say something, but then Gus returns, bustling back into the kitchen with his arms full, still whistling the same tune from earlier.
Ford steps back abruptly, his expression shuttering. Without a word, he turns and leaves the kitchen, leaving me standing there, heart pounding and face on fire.
But I know that what just happened between us wasn’t nothing. I see the way he looks at me. He thinks I don’t noticehim skulking in the shadows, watching me work. But I do. I see how easily he flirts with me, as long as I’m the one to start it.
It all points to one simple fact: my step-uncle wants me.
Which leaves me with one simple question: what am I going to do about it?
Four
Ford
The sun is just starting to dip below the mountains, casting Blackwood Lodge in a warm, amber glow. Dusk is one of my favourite times of day, and it’s when I usually make my rounds, walking the grounds I know like the back of my hand, checking the cabins, ensuring everything is in order. The crunch of gravel under my boots echoes in the quiet evening, a familiar sound that usually soothes me. Grounds me. But not tonight, because my thoughts are consumed with Sophia.
I round a bend in the path, passing the apple orchard. The trees are laden with ripe fruit, their sweet scent hanging in the cool evening air. I slow my steps, inhaling deeply. The scent makes me think of Sophia—sweet, tantalizing, forbidden.
Stop, I mentally chastize myself, wrenching my mind back to the mundane checklist of chores and duties that usually fills my mind.
But there isn’t a single goddamn thing that doesn’t make me think of her.
Our short interaction in the kitchen replays on a loop in my mind. The way her eyes met mine, wide and curious, a hint of jealousy flashing when she’d clumsily asked if I was single. The way her lips parted, soft and inviting. The way her body leaned towards mine, as if drawn by an invisible thread. It took every ounce of willpower not to close the distance. Not to back her up against the counter and kiss the absolute shit out of her.
I rub the back of my neck as I walk, a futile attempt to ease the tension knotted there. I can still see her standing in the kitchen, that mass of reddish brown curls piled on top of her head, a few ringlets framing her face. Flushed cheeks—from the warmth of the kitchen, or from me? From our conversation?
Because I might’ve been out of the dating world for a long time, but I’m not so rusty that I don’t see the way my little step-niece looks at me. The curious hunger in her pretty hazel eyes, the sweet blush on her cheeks. Her need to know if I’m single.
Sophia wants me, and the fact that I know that and I’ve still kept my distance…fuck, but I deserve all the gold stars for that.
Because every time I’m around her, it’s like a match lighting up the darkness and casting everything in a warm, hopeful glow. Every word, every glance, every brushing contact is a spark. A flame that could quickly turn into a wildfire. And yet, even though I know I can’t have it, I want more. I want more of her laughter, her smiles, more of her. I want to know everything about her. I want to know what her hopes and dreams for the future are. I want to know why she’s never had a fucking boyfriend. I want to know what she sounds like when I make her come.
But I can’t. Even if she wants me, I won’t. I’m her uncle, for fuck’s sake. I’m too old for her. I’m supposed to be teaching her. Guiding her, not fantasizing about devouring her. Claiming her.
Besides. I’m a man with certain…preferences. Sophia’s far too young and innocent for the kinky shit I’m into. But god, if Ithought she was, if I thought she’d let me be her Daddy…I don’t think I’d be able to stay away. Despite all the reasons I should, I don’t think I could.
But that’s not going to happen, so it’s a moot point.
I reach the main lodge, warmth from inside spilling out through the large windows and onto the porch. I step inside, nodding politely at guests and staff. The resort is quiet this week, but I know we’re expecting an influx of guests on Friday afternoon. But right now, it’s only Wednesday, which is the night staff who aren’t working head into Honey Ridge for dinner and something to do—a movie, bowling, something fun. I know Sophia isn’t working tonight, and I hope she went with them.
Unless Carter went into town, and then I hope she stayed here.
Fuck.
I move through the lodge, and then step outside into the crisp evening air. I make my way around the pool, closed for the season, and head towards the hot tub area, my eyes taking in every single detail, looking for anything amiss. The hot tub area is secluded, tucked away to offer guests both privacy and relaxation, with a stunning view of the lake and mountains. I can hear the sound of bubbling water. I’m not surprised a guest is using the hot tub. It’s a gorgeous evening, with a spectacular sunset. But as I round the corner, keeping my distance so as to not intrude, I stop dead in my tracks, frozen in place by the sight before me.
It’s not a guest using the hot tub. It’s Sophia.
She stands from the hot tub wearing a tiny black bikini, the triangles of fabric barely containing her fantastic tits, barely covering her little pussy. Her tits are practically spilling out, the swell of her cleavage glistening with water droplets. I stand there, frozen, as she retrieves a bottle of water and then slips back into the hot tub, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She’s notwearing her glasses, and her damp curls cling to her neck, a few tendrils plastered to her creamy skin.
Fuck me, she’s a vision. A goddamn wet dream come to life.
I can’t look away. I can’t fucking move. All I can do is stare. My eyes trace the curve of her shoulders, the swell of those mouthwatering tits. Her skin is flushed from the heat, glowing in the soft light of the setting sun. I want to touch her so badly. More than I’ve ever wanted to touch another human being in my life. I want to run my hands over every inch of her curves. I bet she’s soft. She looks so fucking soft.
