Page 2 of Falling for the Mountain Man

Zaria

The snow has always been my favorite part of tagging along with Kallie this time of year.

It clings to bare branches like lace, turning the world into something fragile and glittering.

The ground glows under its pale blanket, untouched except for the occasional footprint or the scatter of animal tracks.

Every time I see it, I try to burn the view to memory to give me something to cling to until I can come back to see it again.

Growing up, snow was a fantasy. Even with all the moving, my roots stayed tangled in the deep South, where winter meant drizzle and damp cold, never this—this magic. The first time I saw real snowfall was here, with them.

But as breathtaking as it is, there’s something even more mesmerizing in this truck.

Ryder West.

The man behind the wheel, his gaze locked on the flurry of white hitting the windshield, is more striking than any winter landscape. Dark hair, darker eyes, his jaw shadowed with just enough scruff to make me wonder how it would feel beneath my fingertips—rough and warm.

He hasn’t changed. Not really.

The same thick, tattooed arms that pulled me into his life years ago still flex as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. The same quiet intensity lingers in the way he watches the road, like he’s calculating every risk, every threat.

It’s torture, always sneaking glances. No matter how much time passes, I’m still the woman he took in out of pity. Still Kallie’s friend. Still off-limits.

Still stupid enough to wish otherwise. Oh, boy, do I wish. Enough to the point that I’m breathless, lungs burning from pleading the same few words over and over again.

He doesn’t mind me sitting at his side, not that any of us have much of a choice.

Thanks to my motion-sickness, Kallie is always happy to let me sit shotgun whenever we’re in a vehicle. She wouldn’t ever think that I’d want to sit next to her dad, not by choice.

It’s probably better that way. As much as I hate having a weakness, I try my best to be an optimist whenever I can be.

While Kallie chatters about her classes and her exams, she’s happy to fill the silent air. If it were just the two of us, I don’t think the air could get more awkward. That’s what makes her the best. She’s my opposite, filling the gaps I can’t fill myself.

Where I can barely find much to say, her words come endless until someone puts a stop to her.

Ryder doesn’t last long before he’s lifting a hand like a stop sign.

“I think I’ve heard enough about school. Tell me something else interesting.” A simple request.

Nothing comes to mind. I don’t think I’m too interesting. My hobbies surround my major, so I’m not too sure he’d want to hear about my latest sketches of figuring out anatomy.

“I can tell you about a guy I met at a party.” She lets out a low laugh like she’s already noticing the way my ears grow pink. “Who was that dude who was talking your ear off?”

Oh boy. He was someone I don’t even remember, that’s who. I can’t even recall his face.

Why does she feel the need to pull me in with this topic? Does she think talking about guys with Ryder will soften the blow? He’s protective of her, so I doubt I could save her in any way.

It might be my imagination, but I swear his eyes flick toward me—just a fleeting glance, there and gone before I can be sure. Just as I start to doubt myself, I catch the way his gaze lingers on Kallie through the rearview mirror, his brows pinched together.

“You still have that pepper spray?” His voice is gravel-serious, the kind of tone that makes my pulse stutter. “Can’t trust anyone nowadays. Since I’m not there to watch your backs, you’d both be better off playing it safe.”

My stomach clenches at the way he includes me in his protectiveness as if I’m something fragile. As if I need guarding.

He doesn’t have to worry.

I’m a woman with blinders on, my path narrow and unshakable. There’s only one man I’d ever consider giving myself to, and he’s twice my age.

And currently lecturing me about self-defense.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kallie sighs, slumping back in her seat before rolling her eyes. “When I do find the right guy, you’re just going to scare him off anyway.”

Ryder doesn’t deny it. Just smirks, the curve of his mouth lazy and knowing. Then—finally—his gaze slides to me, the intensity softening only slightly. “That goes for you, too. Don’t let some idiot sweet-talk you into anything just because he gives you a little attention.”

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly tight. “Of course.”

Can’t remember the last time I heard such ironic advice. All Ryder had to do was welcome me into his home that very first time, and I was gone for him that same day.

“Oh, don’t worry about her, Dad,” Kallie cuts in, grinning. “She’s basically vowed to die a virgin.”

Heat explodes across my face. “Kallie—!” I choke out, mortified.

Ryder clears his throat, his grip tightening on the wheel.

God, I love Kallie—she’s saved me in more ways than one—but this? This is the kind of help I don’t need. The last person who should be thinking about my virginity is the man I’d want to lose it to.

Pathetic . The word echoes in my head every time I think about it. A man so out of my league that it’s not funny. Someone who hasn’t shown any proof of even wanting a woman since I’ve known him.

The truck’s tires hiss against the snow, the sound a merciful end to the conversation.

“Almost there,” he reassures softly, like he’s distracted by more than the risky drive.

I try not to overthink it.

* * *

The cabin stands unchanged—except for the towering stacks of firewood lining its side. Enough to survive a blizzard. The sight makes me smile. So like him—always prepared for whatever’s to come.

I barely finish unbuckling before Kallie’s gone, a blur of energy bolting for the porch. The screen door slams behind her, leaving me alone with him.

“We haven’t eaten since this morning,” I explain, nodding toward the house. “If I had to guess, she’s probably starving.”

Ryder clicks his tongue, a frown flickering across his face—there and gone, but long enough to make my stomach clench.

“You both need to take better care of yourselves.” His voice is low, almost scolding, but the way his gaze lingers on me turns the words into something warmer. “I bet Kallie lives to give me gray hairs. Don’t tell me you enjoy making me suffer, too.”

My lips part, but no sound comes out. I can’t grasp words while he’s looking at me.

His eyes aren’t angry. They’re filled with amusement, crinkling at the corners in that way that makes my pulse stutter.

I shake my head, flustered, and his chuckle rolls through me like thunder, low and warm and too close to my heart.

“I—I don’t,” I finally manage, but it comes out breathless. Too honest.

He tilts his head, studying me with that same unbearable fondness. “Yeah? Then prove it. Come inside and let me get some food in you before you risk starvation, too.”

Just like that, I’m drowning again.

How am I supposed to resist him when he says things like that? When he looks at me like that?

This is going to be another few days of suffering from my end.

Nodding my head, I push my door open before he can say anything else that’ll risk causing my heart to give out.

The moment I step outside, the cold air sinks its teeth into me. I suppress a shiver as I circle the truck, hyperaware of the fact that, for the first time, it’s just the two of us.

Ryder moves to open the tailgate, his back turned, giving me a stolen moment to look my fill.

My gaze traces the line of his shoulders, the way his jacket stretches just slightly when he reaches for the handle of the tailgate.

Just a few seconds—that’s all I allow myself.

A few seconds to feed this quiet, hungry thing inside me that aches to be closer.

I missed him. I’m not like Kallie—I can’t just fling myself into his arms and laugh off the way my pulse races at his nearness.

I’m still warm from our hug. Still replaying the way his arm felt around me, brief as it was.

The tailgate clicks open, and I snap out of it, reaching for my bag—but Ryder’s faster. His fingers wrap around the handle before I can even blink.

“I can get that—” The words tumble out too quickly, and my cheeks burn as he dismisses me with an easy shrug.

He doesn’t let go. His grip stays firm, and for a reckless second, I consider prying his fingers loose—just to feel the brush of his skin against mine.

He grabs Kallie’s, too, with ease. “You both pack light. Don’t worry about it.”

Final. Unbothered. Unlike me, who is always a freaking melty mess whenever he’s involved.

He lets me close the tailgate, then falls into step beside me, his pace unhurried. Mine matches—because if I slow down, maybe this won’t have to end so soon.

We reach the front door, and I hesitate, my voice softer than I mean it to be. “Um, thanks again for this. For letting me stay and all that.”

The words taste fragile on my tongue. Because no matter how warm they’ve made me feel, this isn’t mine to keep. They could take it back anytime—will take it back, eventually. The thought lodges in my chest like a splinter.

Then Ryder smiles. That same smile—the one that unravels me stitch by stitch, sending a swarm of butterflies loose in my ribs.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me.” His voice is easy, effortless, like he doesn’t realize he’s rewriting my heartbeat with every word. “It’s always good having you here. Wouldn’t feel normal not having you around.”

He might as well have set me on fire.

Before I can choke out a reply, he jerks his chin toward the cabin, already moving. “Now, let’s get inside before we freeze to death.”

Just like that, he’s acting like he didn’t just hand me a confession I’ll replay in the dark later, twisting each syllable until they sound like something more.

That’s the problem with Ryder.

He says things like that—simple, offhand truths that sink under my skin and stay there. He looks at me like I belong, and I’m left scrambling to patch up the cracks in my resolve.

How am I supposed to pretend I don’t love him when he keeps giving me reasons to?