Page 2 of Her Mountain Boss (Honey Ridge #3)

He nods, a completely neutral—and completely unreadable—expression on his gorgeous face.

Little lines fan out around his eyes, his skin weathered in an appealing way.

He’s a man who’s spent a lot of time outdoors, and it gives a rugged edge to his appearance.

He’s massive, towering over me as I crane my neck to look up at him.

He’s strong, and wide, and there’s something about him that makes me think there isn’t a problem in the world he couldn’t solve.

These are thoughts I probably shouldn’t be having about someone who’s both my boss and technically part of my family, even if we’re not blood related.

“That’s right,” he says in that deep voice, pulling my attention back to the conversation. My hand is still engulfed in his, and I’m in no hurry at all to take it back.

“I’m your…well, I guess I’m your niece,” I say, words falling out of my mouth in an awkward tumble.

I’m normally a people person, but this—whatever is happening right now—has thrown me for a loop.

He stares at me, not saying anything. “I mean, sort of. By marriage.” I swallow again, acutely aware of every part of my body.

I can feel my pulse thrumming in my throat, can feel achy heat gathering between my thighs.

Those piercing blue eyes rake over me. I can feel his gaze like a physical touch, my skin tingling wherever he looks.

When his eyes meet mine—and listen, I know how corny this sounds—but it’s like time stops.

The entire world drops away. All that exists in this moment is me and Ford, our joined hands, our connected gazes.

I feel like he can see right into the core of me, right into my soul.

Like he can see everything I am and everything I might be.

I shift on my feet, my clit starting to pulse. My cheeks go hot, and the tips of my ears are on fire. And I know that this warmth has nothing to do with the afternoon sunshine warming the air. This is all…me. Us. Whatever the hell is happening.

“I expected someone…different,” he finally says in a clipped voice, dropping my hand and a tiny part of my heart with it. Does he find me lacking somehow? Does he not feel this weird connection between us? Is this all one sided? Me, being a horny idiot?

“Different?” I echo, trying to get my bearings. I feel lightheaded. I’m turned on. I’m completely disoriented. “Different how?”

He blows out a breath and shrugs, and I track the way the movement makes his flannel shirt pull against his muscled bulk. “Just…different. Younger. You’re not…” He trails off with a rough exhale.

I laugh, a mixture of nerves and what is probably pure insanity bubbling out of me. “Uh, okay. Well, I’m twenty-four. Not sure what your definition of young is.”

He stares at me again, those blue eyes making my insides churn. After a moment, he shakes his head, as if pushing thoughts away. What thoughts? What’s he thinking right now? I want to know. Badly. “Never mind. You’re here now.”

I nod, feeling a strange mix of excitement and wariness curling together in my stomach, twisting me into knots.

“I am. And I just want you to know that I’m so, so grateful for this opportunity.

I promise I won’t let you down. I’m a quick learner and a hard worker.

You won’t be disappointed. You won’t regret this.

” I’m rambling again. I bite my lip, hard.

My mouth twitches, as though more words want to spill out.

He grunts in response, and that sound has me creaming in my panties. Gah. He’s so hot. Every single thing about him is so freaking hot.

And now he’s staring at me again, his eyes moving over my face and down my body.

Is he…does he feel this too? This insane chemistry?

This completely off-limits attraction? Or is it just me and my filthy mind?

His gaze returns to my face, and he tilts his head slightly, as though he’s trying to figure me out. Like I’m a puzzle to solve.

I want him to keep staring. It makes me feel alive. And hungry.

“You were expecting someone younger?” I press, unable to let it go. “You said I’m not…not what?”

He doesn’t answer, just shaking his head. But he does keep staring at me, and I don’t miss the way his pupils have expanded. It makes his eyes look darker. Stormy. He stares and I shiver, tingles racing down my spine.

Without a word, he reaches out and takes my laptop bag, and I exhale shakily as his warm, strong fingers graze over my shoulder.

His eyes snap to mine, probably because I’m breathing like a complete weirdo, and then he makes this soft grunting sound that has my knees threatening to buckle.

The moment stretches out like honey dripping from a comb, slow and sweet.

“This is the main lodge,” he says suddenly, jerking his thumb to the gorgeous building behind us.

The moment snaps, the sweetness turning brittle.

“This is where you’ll find the offices, as well as the restaurant and kitchen, spa, and indoor pool.

There are small guest rooms in the lodge, but Blackwood’s main draw are the twelve private cabins scattered throughout the property.

We also have a few staff cabins, which is where you’ll be staying.

I’ll show you.” He exhales sharply and rolls his lips inward, as though he’s not used to talking this much.

“And what about you? Do you stay on the premises?” I ask, scurrying after him as he starts marching towards the treeline with my bags.

He nods and then points to a beautiful cabin near the lake, almost completely hidden by pines. “That’s me.”

I struggle to keep up with his long strides as we make our way to the cabins.

They’re all scattered throughout the woods, each private and luxurious.

I take everything in as we pass by, leaves and gravel crunching beneath our feet as we walk in silence.

The cabins are reclaimed timber and river stone, just like the main lodge, and each features a secluded deck with a hot tub.

They’re all positioned so that the main view is forest, mountains, and the lake.

It’s all very cleverly laid out, I have to say.

“It’s so quiet here,” I say, slightly breathless. I’m practically jogging to keep up with him.

“I like quiet.”

That doesn’t surprise me in the least.

“This is you,” he says as we crest over a small hill and dip down, the path leveling out and revealing a small grouping of cabins. Still nice, but far less luxurious than the guest cabins. They’re nestled together in a copse of trees not far from Ford’s cabin.

I follow him onto the porch of my cabin, watching as he fishes a set of keys out of his pocket.

He unlocks the door and then holds it open for me, gesturing for me to enter.

He follows me in, my eyes widening as I take in the interior of the cabin.

It’s small, sure, but it’s far nicer on the inside than I was expecting.

The main room is open, with a small kitchenette tucked into one corner.

A table with two chairs sits in front of the kitchen window that looks out over the apple orchard.

A cozy seating area with a plush loveseat and a chunky, worn coffee table faces a stone fireplace, the mantle adorned with various nature themed knickknacks.

Ford sets my bags down with care by the front door and takes a few steps into the cabin, his expression difficult to read. He almost looks…wary?

I straighten my spine. I’ll show him that he has nothing to worry about. I’ll work my ass off, impress the hell out of him, and make him forget he ever had second thoughts about this internship.

“This is the main living area,” he says, then scrubs a hand over his mouth. “Obviously.” It’s difficult to tell because of his beard, but I think his cheeks have gone slightly pink. Is he…blushing?

No. That makes no sense. None whatsoever.

He clears his throat and points to a small hallway off the main room. “Bathroom and bedroom are down there.”

I nod, looking around the cabin again. I can feel the smile spreading across my face, my excitement for the next three months growing.

I can see myself curled up on that loveseat, a book in my lap, a cup of tea on the table, a fire crackling in the hearth after a long day of impressing the hell out of Ford.

He walks over to the large window in the kitchen, and I follow him, feeling a bit like a puppy.

“That’s the apple orchard,” he says, pointing out the window.

I stand beside him, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

He smells like pine and cedar with a hint of woodsmoke.

I want to rub myself on him. I want to bury my face in his flannel and inhale deeply.

Okay. It’s official. I most definitely have a raging crush on my boss, who is also technically my step-uncle and who is probably a million years older than me.

I need to keep it professional. The last thing I need is to embarrass myself before I’ve even unpacked my bags. Before I’ve even officially started this job.

“The trailhead for most of the hikes is just beyond the orchard. You’ll have easy access to the trails from here. You like hiking?” he asks, glancing down at me and then quickly away.

“I do. Especially in the fall.”

He grunts in response, and I feel that sound in my belly, little butterflies unfurling timid wings.

“Staff are allowed to use the facilities when they’re not on duty—the gym, the pool, the sauna, the hot tub. Just don’t annoy the guests.”

I look up at him and nod, drinking in his profile.

He’s the epitome of a rugged mountain man.

He’s not looking at me, his gaze fixed out the window and on the orchard beyond.

I have the insane urge to reach out and touch him.

What would his hair feel like between my fingers?

What would his beard feel like against my neck?