Page 4 of Her Mountain Man Protector (Crave County: Mountain Men Love Curves #7)

HOLDEN

I can hear the rush of the shower as I bustle around in the kitchen, making Mila a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches.

I try hard to ignore the fact that she’s naked in my bathroom right now, just on the other side of the wall.

But it doesn’t work. I can feel something tightening inside me, blood rushing downward in a way that makes me groan in annoyance.

Goddammit, pull yourself together.

Ever since I found Mila hiding in my shed, it’s like I’ve lost control of my body.

Hell, my mind, too. But I can’t help it.

She’s so beautiful it hurts; I almost stopped breathing when I saw her lit up by the porch light—her angelic face, her thick curves, the way she filled out her wedding dress.

All I could do was stare at her, trying to pretend like I wasn’t.

With a sigh, I plate up the grilled cheese sandwiches, setting them on the table just as the bathroom door opens.

I turn to see Mila padding toward me, my t-shirt falling to her knees.

Her wet brown hair is tied back, her makeup from earlier washed away, and my heart stutters all over again as I look at her.

Fuck, she’s so pretty.

My gaze roams her pale, heart-shaped face, from her rosebud lips to her olive green eyes.

She looks like an angel: fresh-faced and sweet as hell.

And even my giant t-shirt can’t hide her plump curves.

My mouth goes dry as I make out the swell of her breasts, and I clear my throat, forcing myself to focus on her wedding dress instead.

She’s holding it out as far away from her as possible, like it’s contaminated.

“I’ll hang it up in my closet,” I tell her, taking the silky fabric from her hands. “You sit down and eat.”

The words come out like an order. I don’t mean them to, but something about Mila brings out a fierce protectiveness in me. I want her warm, safe, and fed.

“Thank you, Holden,” she says in that sweet voice as she sits down and reaches for a grilled cheese. “These look amazing.”

I leave her to eat, taking the wedding dress to my bedroom and hanging it up carefully.

Bridal wear isn’t exactly my area of expertise, but I can tell it’s expensive.

The fabric is impossibly soft, like gossamer against my fingers, and as I look at it, a million questions flood my mind.

There’s so much I want to know about Mila.

Who the hell was she going to marry? Why couldn’t she go through with it?

Why did she run away from her guests and hide in my shed?

I’d love nothing more than to get some answers. But as I head back into the living room, watching as Mila eagerly tucks into her sandwiches, I know now isn’t the time. She’s had a rough day. She looks exhausted, and what she needs now is a good night’s sleep, not to be bombarded by my questions.

I’m glad she didn’t get married.

It’s a totally illogical thought. This girl is a stranger, and it shouldn’t make any difference to me if she’s married or not.

But I can’t help the relief I feel. Nor can I help the jealousy that burns through me when I think about how she must have agreed to marry someone—accepted a proposal—even if she didn’t go through with it.

Fuck, this isn’t good.

Mila is so damn young. So vulnerable. I’m pushing forty-five, and according to the cops, this curvy beauty is twenty-four.

Hell, she’s only a couple of years older than my daughter.

I shouldn’t be feeling this way about her.

I can’t feel this way about her. It’s all wrong.

I’m a grown man, dammit, and I need to control myself.

“Do you want some?” Mila asks, pulling me from my thoughts. She gestures to her sandwich.

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

She takes another bite, cheese oozing from the toasted bread. “Has anyone ever told you that you make a mean grilled cheese?”

I almost smile. “Only my daughter.”

Mila’s eyebrows lift. “You have a daughter?” She looks around as if she’s expecting Isabelle to suddenly appear.

“Yeah. Isabelle. She’s grown up now. Lives with her boyfriend farther up the mountain.”

Mila is quiet for a moment, then asks, “And Isabelle’s mom?”

“No idea who she is.” I sit down opposite Mila, leaning back in my chair. “I adopted my daughter when she was a baby. Found her abandoned on the doorstep of the fire station where I worked.”

“Wow.” Mila stares at me wide-eyed, her gaze full of warmth. “That’s amazing, Holden. It sounds like she lucked out, landing with you.”

I shrug, keeping my expression neutral, but the way she’s looking at me is making my heart thud. “Don’t know about that,” I say. “We didn’t have much when she was younger. But I did my best to be there for her…give her a good childhood.”

“That’s all that matters,” Mila says. “Kids don’t need a big house or fancy birthday presents. They need parents who love them.” There’s a hint of sadness in her voice, her eyes downcast as she takes another bite of her sandwich. She quickly changes the subject and asks, “So, you’re a firefighter?”

“Used to be, a long time ago. I’m a mechanic these days.”

A strand of hair falls across her face as she nods, and I fight the urge to tuck it behind her ear. She opens her mouth, presumably to ask me something else, but I cut in first. I’m tired of talking about myself when Mila is still such a mystery.

“What about you?” I ask. “You work around here?”

“No. I live with my parents in New York, near the Hamptons. We only came out here for the…” she tapers off, clearly not wanting to mention the wedding. The silence drags for a beat too long, then she bites her lip and says, “Sorry, I’m so tired I can’t think straight. Is it okay if I go to bed?”

“Sure. Don’t need to ask.”

I’m desperate to hear more about her life, her family, but I don’t push it.

Instead, I guide her to the guestroom—a cozy little bedroom right next to mine.

I make up the bed with fresh sheets, refusing Mila’s help.

For reasons I can’t explain, I don’t want her to have to lift a finger.

I want to take care of her. Protect her.

She looks so damn sweet, so innocent wearing my giant t-shirt, looking at me with those big green eyes.

I don’t know everything she’s been through, but something tells me she’s running from more than just her wedding, and I’m determined to keep her safe.

“Thank you, Holden,” she says softly once the bed is made. “I really don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be cold and hungry, hiding in your shed.”

It’s a thought that makes me flinch. I can’t stand thinking of her all alone out there, hiding in the dark. But she’s under my roof now, which means this beautiful angel is under my protection. I won’t let anything bad happen while she’s with me.

“Don’t mention it,” I tell her, brushing off her thanks. I don’t need her to thank me. Hell, looking after her feels like a privilege. “Sleep well, okay?”

She smiles up at me warmly, and I feel my blood thrum hot and fast through my veins.

We’re all alone in the guest bedroom, just the two of us out in this remote cabin.

It’s pretty damn hard to ignore the possibilities.

My cock stirs as I imagine falling into bed with Mila, tearing off that t-shirt and running my hands over her soft, luscious curves…

Fuck, I need to get out of here.

These thoughts are driving me crazy.

“Goodnight, Mila,” I say quickly, swallowing hard as I turn around and head for the door.

“Goodnight, Holden…and thank you again.”

I close the door behind me without looking back, determined to stay in control.

But knowing Mila is going to be sleeping in the room just next to mine is almost too much to handle.

When I get into my own bed a few minutes later, I stare up at the ceiling and listen, straining my ears to hear every creak of springs, every movement from the adjoining room.

And I know for damn sure I won’t get a wink of sleep tonight.