Page 1 of Kissing the Mountain Man
one
Autumn
“C
heck out that sexymountain man on the other side of the farthest picnic table,” Charlotte, our newest employee, nudges my arm. “He’s been staring at you like he wants to lick your frosting—if you know what I mean, for the last half hour.” Her laughter draws the attention of a few other mountain men sitting in our outdoor seating area in front of our pastry food truck, along with one very grumpy-looking cowboy. He seems to be glaring daggers at those same mountain men while splitting his gaze between them and Charlotte.
“I’d be more worried about that delicious-looking cowboy over there.” I nudge her arm back, nodding at the sexy guy wearing tight jeans, a plaid shirt that stretches over his muscular chest, and a cowboy hat. “Looks like he wants to coat you in his homemade frosting.”
The laughter catches in her throat as her eyes lock on the cowboy. “Not interested.” She scowls, turning back to the oven and pulling out a fresh batch of our best-selling pumpkin spice turnovers. She sets them on a rack to cool while she grabs the filled frosting bag from the refrigerator and begins to squeeze out the glaze onto the sweets. “This is the only frosting I want.” Her eyes stray back to the cowboy who’s still watching her with a determined stare.
“If you say so," I snort. “But you'll have to tell him that.” I grab a damp towel and rush out the door before she can answer.
It’s my turn to wipe down the picnic tables. Plus, I want to get a closer look at the mountain man who’s been watching me, as Charlotte says.
Trying not to look too obvious, I start with the closest table, wiping around the mountain men finishing with their sweets. As usual, the more vocal of the men start conversations with me while the shy ones politely smile as I clear off their tables.
The conversations range from discussing the weather to predicting who will win the Mountain Man Challenge. I’m betting on either my brother-in-law, Brooks Blackwood, or his brother, Bay. Things take a turn for the worse when I reachBurt Wainwright's table. His smug smile makes me shudder in disgust.
How did I ever think he was handsome?
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t trying to find my soulmate. I’ve watched how happy my sister Junie is with her husband and how miserable my sister Iclyn is, pushing her obvious soulmate away day after day until he finally stopped coming around the bakery, and the toll it has taken on her mentally and physically.
No, I want to find a man I can build a life with right here in Temptation Ridge. Unfortunately, I’ve met almost every unattached man in town, and none have made my heart race until the stranger—Charlotte claims can’t keep his eyes off me—strolled into town. I’m sure only for the grand prize money from the Mountain Man Challenge. I heard it was $5,000 this year. But, still, I can’t help but be drawn to him as my eyes keep straying in his direction.
“Hey, Autumn. Do you want to be my date for the dance tonight?” Burt sends me a smile that I’m sure he thinks is sexy, but it just makes my skin crawl. “I’m sure you want to show up on the arm of the winner of the Mountain Man Challenge.” His eyes drop to my chest, and I curse myself for wearing the white T-shirt with our bakery logo and slogan, ‘Sweet Enough, You’ll Want Another Taste’ on it.
His conceited words take away from what I am sure most women find attractive. His good looks blinded me at first, causing me to accept a second dance from him at Bay and Jessa’s wedding reception last month.
Normally, I politely decline a second dance, but there was something about that night I couldn’t quite explain. It felt like I was being watched, which, in a town full of big, strong, sexy mountain men with only a few single women, isn’t unheard of for men to stare. But this was different.
The eyes that seemed to be watching me made me feel alive and needy—almost reckless, pushing me to make whoever it was step out of the shadows and ask for a dance from me, and maybe more. To reach my goal, I ignored my instincts and accepted a second dance request from Burt. He took it as a sign of interest since I never agree to a second dance.
Unfortunately, all I did was realize it was all in my head and that no one was actually watching me from the shadows. Now Burt thinks I’m interested in him, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Hi, Burt.” I hold the damp rag in front of my chest, using it as a shield. My sisters and I have curvy bodies with big chests, small waists, and wide hips, and the T-shirt and jeans I’m wearing do nothing to hide that. Don’t get me wrong, I love my curves, just not the way Burt is leering at them. “Sorry, but I’m working the food truck all night.” I wasn’t planning on it since our other employee, Brynnlee, is the one actually scheduled to work until the festival shuts down tonight, but I’d do almost anything else than be Burt’s date.
“Your loss.” Burt shrugs, his smirk deepening as he continues. "You know where to find me if you change your mind.” He stands and pushes away from the table, making his way through the crowd, leaving me biting my tongue to hold back what I really want to say. However, that would be bad for our business.
When he’s out of hearing range, I relax my hold on my tongue and turn around to finish wiping the tables. Now that the Mountain Man Challenge sign-up has started, our customer base has decreased.
“Yuck, like I’d go anywhere with someone like him,” I say under my breath, only loud enough for me to hear—or so I thought.
“That’s good to hear.” My eyes snap toward that deep, sexy voice, which is nothing like Burt’s nasally tone, to find the sexy mountain man who was at the far side of the picnic tables now standing inches away from me—close enough that I could rub myself all over him if I wanted. And boy, do I want to. “I’d hate to think someone like him is my competition.”
“Burt?” I snort. “No, thank you.”
“So, you’re telling me I have a chance with you, Buttercup?” When he smiles, a dimple shows in his cheek, and I have to resist the urge to poke my tongue in it for a taste.
What’s wrong with you, Autumn? You’re a twenty-six-year-old virgin with dangerous thoughts running through your mind. This guy spells trouble with a capital T. You’re looking for a soulmate, not a quick hookup with some drifter in town for a one-day festival.
I’m no better than those buckle bunnies chasing rodeo stars or the puck bunnies at hockey games looking to score. So, what does that make me—a mountain bunny? An axe bunny? Maybe a wood bunny? The last one makes me laugh out loud just thinking about what kind of wood I want. Hey, I might be avirgin, but I watch porn for women. I’ve never given a blow job to anyone before, but I bet I’d know my way around his wood given a chance, thanks to my favorite adult website.
Instead of answering him, I clear my throat to cover up my laughter and run my gaze up and down his body, appreciating how his flannel shirt stretches across his broad chest and tapers down to a pair of firm hips in tight blue jeans. So tight, in fact, that I notice the large, and I mean large, bulge in the front of his pants. When he chuckles, I realize I’ve been caught drooling over his wood.
"So, are you in town for the Mountain Man Challenge?” Real smooth, Autumn. I scold myself. Of course, he’s in town for the challenge.
“Something like that.” He smiles, reaching out his hand toward my cheek, then quickly dropping it to his side.
