Page 3 of Her Mountain Man Neighbor
The forest melts away as I take her in. Light filters through the canopy overhead, catching her pastel purple hair, making it shimmer. Her face is impossibly pretty—soft and rounded—her plump lips parting as she catches her breath. A cream sweater hugs her full figure, clinging to her in places that make my brain short-circuit, and I can’t stop my gaze drifting down her body. I stare at her gorgeously thick thighs, wrapped up in blue jeans that show off every curve, and something stirs inside my gut,sending all my blood rushing downward with as much force as the river beside me.
Who the hell is this girl?
She’s not carrying any hiking gear. No backpack. I stare as she reaches the riverbank, biting her lip as she inspects the churning water. She walks along the edge until she reaches the narrowest point of the river.
Shit.
I realize what she’s about to do a second too late.
“Hey! Stop!”
The sound of the river drowns out my warning as the girl loses her footing. My chest tightens with panic as I watch her arms flail, her back slapping down against the muddy bank. I’m already sprinting toward her. She’s sliding feet-first down the bank, scrabbling helplessly at the brown sludge.
“Help!” she cries.
Adrenaline floods through me as I dive to the ground, my chest flat against the mud as I reach down the steep bank. My arms circle the girl’s trembling body, and I wrench her back from the river, pulling her to safety. Heart thudding, I help the girl to her feet. She stumbles a little, but I hold her steady.
Fuck.
A million emotions swirl through me as I take my hands off her shoulders. Being this close to her is enough to make my breath catch, my skin still tingling where I touched her. But as I step back, one feeling bubbles quickly to the surface.
Anger.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I snap.
The words come out rougher than I intend, and as the girl turns to face me, I feel a flicker of guilt. She’s so damn young—early twenties at most—her olive green eyes blinking up at me anxiously. A deer caught in headlights. Part of me wants to holdher, comfort her, tell her it’s okay. But another part of me is pissed off.
Why the hell did she jump?
“I…” the girl stutters, tapering off.
“You could have died. You know that? If you fell in, you’d be swept away in a heartbeat. That water is cold as hell; you’d go into shock…hypothermia…hell, you could have banged your head on the rocks and been knocked out. Drowned then and there.” I can’t stop myself from rattling off every grisly scenario, my gut tightening with anxiety as each one paints a vivid picture in my mind. “Anything could have happened.”
The girl presses her lips together, her eyes moist. “I’m sorry…I’m really sorry…”
I soften a little when I hear that sweet voice. She looks so innocent, so ashamed of herself.
“Why did you jump?” I ask, trying to keep my voice gentle.
“I thought I could make it—I’ve made it before. But I didn’t realize it would be so slippery today.” She looks anxiously down at my clothes. They’re sodden with mud and sludge, almost as filthy as hers. We both look like we just took a mud bath. “Oh God, I’m sorry, your clothes are all ruined.”
I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. Main thing is you’re alive.”
Her eyes meet mine, shining with sincerity as she says, “Thank you for saving me. I’m sorry…it was a dumb thing to do. I guess I don’t know these woods as well as I thought.”
It feels mean to keep lecturing her when she’s so apologetic, but I can’t help asking, “Where’s your backpack? Your hiking stuff?”
“Oh, I’m not really a hiker. I’m just taking a quick walk.” She gestures behind her. “I’m staying in a cabin over there.”
I frown. “Holden Mitchell’s place?”
“Yeah. He’s dating my sister. I just moved in with them last month.”
My pulse jumps at this piece of information. Holden Mitchell’s cabin is barely five minutes away from mine.
“Do you live out here too?” she asks.
“Yeah. Holden’s my neighbor.”
