Page 7 of Surrendering to the Mountain Man

Nova stands to order more drinks, giving us some space. I pause, then gesture to the empty chair across from me. He sinks down slowly, the wood creaking under his bulk.

An awkward silence descends. I sip my wine, watching him over the rim of my glass. Up close, the hard lines of his face look hewn from granite, but an unexpected softness in his eyes tugs at me.

"Was there something you wanted to discuss?" I prompt, feigning nonchalance despite the nervous flutter in my chest.

He rubs his beard, considering his words. "I wanted to clear the air between us. I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot."

I nod cautiously. "Go on."

He leans forward, his voice earnest. "I know we have our differences, but I think there's room enough on this mountain for both of us..."

"Room enough?" I repeat incredulously. "That's quite an assumption. This is my land, legally leased for my business. What I choose to do with it is my vision, not yours."

His eyes flash at my combative tone. "Now, hold on. My family has been caretakers of this mountain for generations. We know the land better than any outsider."

"Outsider?" I bristle. "Is that what you think I am? I'm investing in this community, bringing jobs-"

"You're inviting hoards of tourists to trample the wilderness," he interjects gruffly.

"Better than clear-cutting the forests like you loggers do," I shoot back.

We're both on our feet now, leaning over the table. His nostrils flare and a vein in his temple pulses. Part of me knows I should back down and be the bigger person, but there's a reckless thrill in provoking him.

"At least I respect the natural rhythms of these woods," he growls. "Your fancy tents and spa treatments are a dangerous fad."

"How dare you!" I'm nearly shouting now. "I know what I'm doing. My guests will connect with nature's beauty, not destroy it."

We're standing inches apart, eyes blazing. The room crackles with intensity. His masculinity is overpowering this close,making my head spin even as we trade verbal blows. Somewhere along the way, our sparring has shifted to a different type of tension.

Our faces are just breaths apart as we argue. Despite my anger, I'm acutely aware of his rugged features - the day's stubble lining his jaw, the firm set of his mouth. His eyes flick down to my lips, and I feel a jolt low in my belly. Does he want to kiss me as badly as I suddenly want to kiss him?

Before I can process that dangerous thought, he moves. His hands grasp my arms, and his lips crush mine in a searing kiss. For a moment, I’m paralyzed, my senses overwhelmed by the feel and taste of him. Then instinct takes over. I kiss him back hungrily, tongue sliding against his as days of suppressed attraction and animosity explode between us.

One of his hands tangles in my hair while the other pulls me flush against his hard chest. I clutch at his shoulders, heart hammering. We kiss like two forces of nature colliding, pent-up desire flooding to the surface.

When we finally break for air, we're both stunned; the walls between us shattered in an instant. His eyes search mine, dark with lingering passion. But reality comes crashing back in. What have we done? This changes everything.

I grab my things in a daze. "I have to go."

Before he can react, I'm rushing from the bar, my heart and mind racing to make sense of what happened between us. The mountain man I swore was my enemy… how could one earth-shattering kiss make me see him in a whole new light?

7

ASH

The axe bites deep into the wood, splitting it cleanly in two. I lift it again, bringing it down with a satisfying thwack. Chopping firewood first thing in the morning is my ritual, but today, each swing is fueled by frustration. I can't stop replaying last night's kiss with Gemma, the feel of her soft lips pressing urgently against mine in the smoky corner of the bar.

"Whoa there, save some trees for the rest of us," Birch calls out as he ambles over. "Keep chopping that hard, and you'll end up taking your leg off if you ain't careful."

I pause mid-swing and scoff. "I know how to handle an axe."

"Clearly, you got something else on your mind this morning. Or should I say someone?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

My cheeks flush as I involuntarily flashback to the kiss, the way Gemma's body melted against mine, her fingers tangling through my hair. I force the memory away and bring the axe down again angrily.

"It was a mistake. I regret letting it happen," I say gruffly.

“Uh-huh. Is that why you're attacking that woodpile like it insulted your mama?"

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