Page 5 of Falling for Felix (Mountain Men Fall Harder #1)

Harper

He kisses like he does everything else—with purpose, with skill, with the kind of focused intensity that makes the rest of the world fade away.

Not tentative or uncertain like some of the guys I've dated. Not too eager or grabby like others. Felix kisses like he knows exactly what he wants and doesn't waste time pretending otherwise.

And what he wants, apparently, is to unravel me one breath at a time.

My fingers clutch the soft fabric of his thermal shirt, feeling the solid warmth of his chest beneath it. I tilt my head, giving him more room to explore my mouth with his tongue.

Good lord, he’s an amazing kisser…

When we finally break apart, I'm dizzy and warm and more than a little breathless.

Pickles, who has the worst timing ever, chooses that exact moment to let out a loud, snorting snore from his spot at our feet.

I laugh—too loud, too giddy—and press my forehead against Felix's shoulder. "Well," I murmur against the warm column of his throat, "that escalated deliciously."

I feel rather than see him smile. His hand stays cupped against my cheek, callused thumb brushing along my jawline and pausing to cover my lips. “You don’t have to talk.”

“O-okay,” I stammer.

"I don't usually do this," he says quietly.

I swallow. "Kiss women at festivals?"

"Kiss women at all, lately."

"Why not?"

He's quiet for a long moment. “After I left the gallery, I needed quiet. Too many opinions. Too much pressure. The only thing worse than rejection is someone trying to ‘fix’ your work until it doesn’t feel like yours anymore.”

I run my fingers down his arm, slow and careful. “So you built walls?”

“No. I built furniture ,” he says, the half-smile dancing on his lips again. “The walls came later.”

“And you like it that way?"

"I thought I did. It’s easier.”

I pull back to look at him. "But?"

"But then this woman and her mangy mutt barreled into my life, and suddenly easy feels like the most boring thing in the world."

My heart does a little flip. "Oh, so it's my fault you're feeling conflicted about your mountain hermit lifestyle?"

"Entirely your fault."

"Well," I say, grinning up at him, “maybe the rumor I heard is true.”

That earns me a raised eyebrow. "Which rumor?"

"You know." I affect Joy's conspiratorial whisper. "'When the leaves fall, the mountain men fall too...'"

Felix groans, but I swear I see his mouth twitch like he's fighting another smile. "You've been spending too much time at the general store.”

"Joy is very wise. And she makes excellent cinnamon twists."

"She's a meddling old woman who thinks she's running a matchmaking service out of her store."

"And is she? Successfully matchmaking, I mean?"

His voice drops low, intimate. "Ask me tomorrow."

The words send a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the cool October air. "Felix?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not trying to complicate your life.” I reach for his hand, threading our fingers together. "I just... I like the way I feel when you look at me."

“Good.” He squeezes my fingers—once, firm, like a promise. "Because I can’t help but look at you, beautiful.”

Beautiful. He thinks I’m beautiful…

“I have a confession,” I say.

“What’s that?”

“I've been dreaming about kissing you since we met in the corn maze."

His eyes bore into mine. "Just kissing?"

The question hangs in the air between us, loaded with possibility and want and the kind of tension that makes my skin feel too tight.

"Well," I say, my voice coming out breathier than I intended, "I didn't want to overwhelm you with my full list of ideas on the first night."

Felix's eyes darken, and when he speaks, his voice is rough with something that makes my pulse jump. "I'm harder to overwhelm than you think."

"Is that a challenge?"

"It's a fact."

Channeling every ounce of bravery I possess, I stand up, brush hay off my dress, and extend my hand to him. "In that case, would you like to see my RV?”

He looks at my outstretched hand for a long moment, and I can almost see him weighing his options. The safe choice would be to say goodnight, go home to his cabin, maintain the careful distance he's built around himself.

But when he takes my hand and stands, pulling me close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin, I know he's not choosing safe.

"Lead the way," he says.