Page 4 of Don’t Make Me Fall (Mountain Men of Cinnamon Creek #1)
Chapter Four
Hudson
I fight a yawn as I pull into the parking lot of the lodge, already wishing I’d packed a second thermos of coffee. I’ll need the caffeine to survive another group of selfie-loving tourists on this hike considering I didn’t sleep a fucking wink last night.
I blame the curvy bombshell.
After she retreated into the lodge, I did my best to avoid running into her again. I barely made it out of her lodge room after dropping off her luggage before she burst into it, no doubt in search of that fucking phone charger cord.
The fantasy of being caught inside her bedroom when she came looking for that cord is the one that kept me awake.
In my lusty daydream that’s been on repeat since late last night, she’s always upset at first, demanding to know why I was in her room.
Then she sees the purple suitcase, and her suspicion turns to gratitude.
She pulls her sweatshirt over her head, revealing that there never really was anything underneath it, innocently claiming she needs to change into something more comfortable now that she has her suitcase.
My dick begins to harden, despite my best attempts to keep the fucker down.
This is not the time to play out the full fantasy that robbed me of sleep. I have a job to do. Not that my cock seems to give a shit about that.
I’ve been interested in a woman before.
But I’ve never felt this way about one. This lustful. This…possessive.
If I had any fucking idea what to do about that, I couldn’t on it act anyway. It’s just my luck that she’s Reid’s sister.
Hopefully, spending some time in nature—even with tourists who might not fully appreciate it—will help me reset my fucking brain so I’m thinking with the right head the next time I run into her.
The last thing I need is any woman complicating my perfectly comfortable life right now, let alone the one who’s completely off limits and headed back to her city life in a couple of days.
Just as I cut the ignition, a text comes through from Winnie informing me that the four guests on my itinerary have turned into only one on account of a food poisoning incident.
Part of me hopes the single guest standing will cancel as well. I could go back to bed right fucking now and sleep until morning. I’m that tired. But the lodge needs every dollar we can scrounge up before winter, so I don’t ask Winnie to reschedule them.
I reply, letting her know that I’ll be taking my own truck up the mountain. This way, I don’t have to move all my gear to the van I despise driving. It’s a small win, but I’ll take it.
Winnie: I’ll send her out to you now.
Her.
Fucking great.
Just what I need. Some chatty female tourist.
Right as I finish clearing out the front seat, I hear a familiar voice behind me.
“You again?”
I freeze.
Even without turning around, I know who it is.
“I didn’t take you for the hiking type.”
“You don’t really know me, now do you?”
When I finally do turn around, my gaze catches on the same woman from last night.
Only then, she was wearing flip-flops and bright purple shorts that revealed long, bare legs.
Now she’s dressed in practical hiking boots with tight black leggings tucked into them.
There’s even a backpack slung over her shoulder.
“You sure you want to go?” I ask, giving her an out. Mostly because her level of preparedness seems to make her hotter somehow.
“Why wouldn’t I want to go?” she asks, her tone on the edge of defensive.
I drop my gaze to the front straps of her backpack, tempted to use them to tug her against me so I can kiss that smart, sexy mouth of hers. A nagging voice whispers in the back of my mind that I’m a fucked man. I shove it down until it shuts up.
“It’s just you. Everyone else in the group canceled.”
“Oh.”
A muffled chime sounds from her pocket. Instead of checking her phone, she squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep inhale. I try like hell not to watch those bountiful tits rise and fall, but fuck, I’m only a man.
“That important?” I ask.
“No. Not anymore.” Her eyes flutter open and she lifts her gaze to mine, and I’m struck once again by the startling nature of those amber orbs. A man could lose himself in those eyes and never find his way back. “I want to go. Please.”
“None of your other girlfriends wanted to join you?” I’m reaching here, but it’s my last line of defense. “Wait, they didn’t get food poisoning, did they?”
“What? No. They’re not coming. So can we just get going already?”
“You going to be this fun the whole time?”
“Only if you’re lucky.” Though her tone is flat and laced with sarcasm, it’s the sparkle in her eyes that warns me this is all a bad idea. She might pretend she’s annoyed by my every move, but it’s that look she flashes me when she climbs into my truck that warns me there is no maybe about this.
I am a fucked man when it comes to Alanna Grey.