Page 2 of Love Me In Misty Mountain
That was my first thought as I pulled into Bree Taylor’s sorry excuse for a driveway the next morning. Gravel half-washed away, tire tracks frozen in patches of dirty ice, and the cabin? Christ. It was worse in daylight.
But a promise was a promise.
Her brother, Jake, had called me from overseas last week and asked me to keep an eye on her. Basically, to make sure she didn’t get herself killed or buried under a collapsing roof. And because I owed Jake more than I could ever repay, I said yes. What I didn’t like was that she moved back to Misty Mountain. My mountain.
I killed the engine, grabbed my toolbox, and stepped out into the cold mountain air. The sky was that crisp winter blue, but clouds threatened in the distance, maybe snow later, for sure. I adjusted my gloves, taking a moment to appreciate the quiet before heading toward the front porch.
The door creaked open before I knocked. Bree stood there, wrapped in an oversized sweatshirt, leggings, and those damn boots still covered in mud. Her wild dark hair was piled into some kind of knot on top of her head, and despite the annoyance already twisting in my gut, I noticed she was still as gorgeous as ever. Curves for days, with a mouth that looked like it was made to drive a man insane.
Focus, Fergus. You’re here to work. Nothing more.
“You’re early,” she said, squinting up at me.
“Let’s just get this done.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she stepped aside to let me in. “Coffees on the counter. It’s black or nothing as I haven’t worked out the coffee machine yet.”
“Black works.”
The cabin was colder than outside, and it smelled like damp wood and neglect. The living room was cluttered with boxes and mismatched furniture, but the bones of the place were solid. It had potential. If she didn’t burn it down first. I felt a little guilty that she was staying here, but not enough to offer my place yet.
“What’s the plan?” I asked, setting my tools down.
Bree crossed her arms, leaning against the counter like she owned the place. Which, technically, she did. “You tell me, mountain man. You’re the expert.”
I grunted, taking a slow sip of coffee. Strong. Hot. Better than I expected. “We start with the roof. Needs patching before that snow rolls in. Then insulation. And your porch is about one stiff breeze from collapsing, so we’ll handle that too.”
“Sounds fun,” she deadpanned.
“You wanted this life, city girl.”
Her eyes flashed. “I can handle it.”
We stared each other down for a beat too long, heat simmering just below the surface. I knew this would happen. Bree had always been the kind of woman who got under my skin. Even when she was younger, tagging along with Jake, she had this fiery spirit. Now, it was wrapped in a body that made my hands itch, and my thoughts stray into dangerous territory.
Get a grip. This was Jake’s sister. Off-limits. Always had been.
I cleared my throat, setting the mug aside. “Let’s get to work.”
***
The day passed in a blur of hammering, cursing, and back-and-forth bickering. Bree insisted on helping, and while she had no clue what she was doing, I had to give her credit, she didn’t quit. She hauled shingles up the ladder, held boards steady, and even wielded a hammer without smashing her fingers.
Still, every time she bent over to pick something up, or wiped sweat from her face, my eyes betrayed me. I was a damn professional. I could handle combat zones, but apparently not Bree Taylor in tight leggings.
By the time we wrapped up, the sun was sinking behind the trees, casting orange light over the ridge. We sat on the half-repaired porch, both of us catching our breath.
“I didn’t die,” she said, a satisfied smile on her lips.
“There’s always tomorrow,” I shot back, but there was no bite to it.
She laughed, low and husky, and it did something to me. It made my chest feel tight and my dick twitch.
Dangerous.
“Thanks for helping,” she said.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Because if I let my guard down, if I let her in, I knew there would be no turning back. That, and Jake would probably kill me, but sitting there, next to Bree, with the smell of sawdust and the mountain air wrapping around us, I realized something that made my gut twist.
