Page 3 of Hayrides with Hank (Mountain Men Fall Harder #7)

MADDIE

I was pretty sure he couldn’t tell that I was watching him on my phone through the motion-activated camera I’d positioned above my door. It had been capturing him from the second he stepped out of his gigantic truck.

I smiled to myself as I closed the video, grabbed my cross-body purse, and headed toward the door.

It was my first date in a couple of years, but it might as well have been my first date ever.

I’d never had this much of a crush on a guy.

Did it count as a crush if we’d just met?

All I knew was that when we looked at each other, sparks flew between us.

I finally got the meaning of the term, “the air seemed electrified.”

I opened the door, and it slammed into me again—that attraction. It almost buckled my knees.

Yeah, this was definitely like nothing I’d ever experienced.

“Hi,” he said, and that slow smile of his made my heart skip. He held out the flowers—wildflowers that looked like he’d picked them himself. “These are for you.”

“They’re beautiful. Thank you.” I took them, our fingers brushing, and felt that electric spark again. “Let me just put these in water.”

“Actually,” he said as I turned toward my tiny kitchen, “I had a change of plans. If you’re up for it.”

I looked back at him, intrigued. “Oh?”

“Instead of the diner, I thought you might like to see the best view in Maple Ridge. I brought dinner to us.” He gestured toward his truck, where I could see an insulated bag and a cooler in the bed. “That is, if you trust me enough to let me take you up to Lookout Rock.”

The smart part of my brain—the part that had kept me safe traveling alone for over a year—whispered that going to an isolated location with a man I’d just met wasn’t the wisest choice.

But the rest of me—the part that had been drawn to him from the moment I saw him emerge from those woods—didn’t hesitate.

“I’d love to.”

Twenty minutes later, we were parked near Lookout Rock, and I understood why he’d wanted to bring me here. The view was breathtaking—rolling mountains painted in autumn colors, the town of Maple Ridge nestled in the valley below, and Osprey Lake gleaming like a mirror in the fading light.

“Wow,” I breathed, stepping out of his truck. “This is incredible.”

“Wait until you see the sunset.” He was already unloading the cooler and insulated bag. “I hope you’re hungry. I have fried chicken, mac and cheese, coleslaw, and cornbread.”

“You did all that for me?” I asked, touched by the thoughtfulness. “I assumed you’d just take me to a restaurant.”

“Figured you’d prefer dining with a view.” He pulled out a blanket and spread it on a flat section of rock. “And I brought sparkling wine for you, beer for me.”

We settled on the blanket, and he opened containers of food that smelled amazing. The fried chicken was perfectly crispy, the sides were comfort food at its finest, and the sparkling wine was crisp and cold.

“So tell me,” he said as we ate, “what’s it like living on the road? Do you ever get lonely?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “But there’s something addictive about the freedom. Waking up somewhere new, meeting different people, seeing the country.” I took a sip of wine. “What about you? You said you came back after leaving the military. Ever regret it?”

“Never.” His certainty surprised me. “I saw enough of the world to know this is where I belong. These mountains, this community—Maple Ridge is home in a way nowhere else could be.”

“That’s beautiful,” I said softly. “I can’t imagine feeling that rooted to a place.”

“Can’t you?” He looked at me intently. “You chose to come back to Maple Ridge this year. Out of all the festivals you could have done.”

I paused, my wineglass halfway to my lips. “Come back? How did you know this wasn’t my first time here?”

Something shifted in his expression—a flicker of vulnerability that made my heart skip. He was quiet for a long moment, looking out over the valley below.

“Because I saw you last year,” he finally said. “At the festival. You were struggling with your booth setup, looked like you were about to cry when that windstorm hit.” He met my eyes. “I wanted to help, but…”

“But what?”

“You looked so young. I figured you were maybe twenty-one, twenty-two. I told myself to stay away.” His laugh was self- deprecating. “Didn’t stop me from thinking about you, though. Every damn day for a year.”

My breath caught. “You’ve been thinking about me for a year?”

“The girl with the determined chin who refused to give up even when everything went wrong? Yeah, I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “When I saw you in the orchard this morning, I thought I was dreaming.”

“I had no idea you even existed,” I whispered.

“I know. That’s what made it worse—and better.” His smile was soft. “Made this feel like fate.”

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, our conversation turned more personal.

He told me about his time overseas, about coming home and starting his business.

I found myself sharing things I rarely talked about—my childhood moving around with parents who never seemed satisfied anywhere and my determination to be different, to be independent.

“Is that why you’ve never settled down?” he asked. “The moving around?”

“Partly.” I took another sip of wine, feeling bold. “But mostly it’s because I’ve been so focused on building my business, I forgot to have a personal life.”

“Forgot?”

I met his eyes. “Okay, maybe it’s more that I never met anyone who made me want to stop moving.” I paused. “Until now.”

The air between us crackled with tension. He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek.

“Maddie,” he said quietly.

“I should probably tell you something,” I said, my heart racing. “I’m…I’ve never…I mean, I’m twenty-three, so this is embarrassing, but I’m a virgin.”

His hand stilled on my face, but he didn’t pull away. “How is that possible?”

I laughed, but it came out shaky. “I told you—too focused on my career. But honestly? I think I was just waiting for the right person.” I looked directly at him. “Maybe you could do something about that.”

His eyes darkened. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” I glanced around at the dramatic cliff, the open sky, the twinkling lights of town below.

“Actually, I’ve always imagined… I mean, I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve always thought my first time should be somewhere exciting.

Somewhere outdoors, where we could…” I felt heat creep up my neck. “Where we might get caught.”

He followed my gaze, understanding immediately, and I saw desire flash in his eyes. “God, Maddie,” he said, his voice rough. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Is that a yes?” I asked, my heart hammering.

He cupped my face in both hands, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones. “That’s a hell yes.”

The last traces of sunset painted the sky behind him in shades of pink and gold, and I knew this moment—this perfect, terrifying, exhilarating moment—was about to change everything.