Page 21 of Don't Make Me Fall
Winnie pulls a business card from the display on the front check-in counter and flips it over. She scribbles something on the back and hands it to me. It’s a business card for the lodge, listing the names of the three general managers with an email address, phone number, and website.
“Hudson’s in charge of hiring.”
I turn the card over, discovering an address.
“I heard about your phone, too,” Winnie adds.
An embarrassed blush heats my cheeks. Did Hudson tell her I threw my phone over the side of the mountain in an outburst of emotion?
“It’s just a conversation, dear,” Winnie insists as a new couple enters the lodge, luggage in tow. It’s my cue to leave.
I glance at the staircase to my lodge room, tempted to crawl into a comfortable bed and binge watch trash TV until our flight leaves tomorrow.
That would be easier.
But my feet apparently have other ideas, because they walk right out the front door instead.
Chapter Ten
Hudson
I swing the axe, striking the log dead center. It splits down the middle, just like the dozens I’ve split before it. I’ve been at this for hours, hopeful of distracting myself from my rampant thoughts about what happened in the tent this morning with Alanna.
It wasn’t just physical. Not for me.
And that’s the problem.
Today I actually wished for a group of selfie-loving tourists to take on a guided hike. Just my luck that no one booked a trip.
I swing my axe again.
And again.
And again.
“You’re pretty good at that,” a familiar voice calls out, loud enough to be heard through the music blasting via my earbuds.
A voice I’ll never be able to unhear as long as I live.
I drop the axe, well aware that my erratic pulse has little to do with my physical activity, and a whole lot more to do with the stubborn, sexy woman who’s ruined me for any other.
Slowly, I tug my earbuds out one at a time and wipe away the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. With agonizing leisure, I finally turn to face the woman I have fallen head over fucking heels for in record time.
“Stalking me, sweetheart?”
“You wish.”
“I didn’t give you my address,” I point out. I try to keep my expression blank, because I love to keep her guessing. But a smile tugs at my lips anyway. The thought of her getting on that plane tomorrow morning and possibly never seeing her again—or worse, seeing her some time in the future married to some undeserving asshole—has made me restless beyond measure.
Until this moment, I didn’t realize how devasting letting her go would be.
“Winnie says you’re in charge of hiring.” Alanna walks toward me, those curvy hips swaying, each step a seduction. “Is that true?”
It takes several seconds for what she’s said to register. Winnie. I love that woman to death. “The position for pain in my ass is already filled. By your brother.”
“You know I’d be better at it.”
We’re standing toe-to-toe. If I reach out, I could tug her into my arms and devour that pretty mouth I’ve been craving. If sweat wasn’t dripping down my bare chest, I’d have done it already.
