Page 2 of Mountain Man Defender (Mountain Men of Pineville #3)

TWO

LARS

“What?” Dylan shot back. “I’m really at a loss here.

You blow hot then cold more often than my great-granny Davis when I was a kid.

Lauren and I had to visit her when we spent time with our dad and she was full on menopausal for a good ten years.

Well, I don’t have ten years to figure you out, mister.

” Dylan slammed her fists on her tempting and perfectly flared hips and all the spit dried up in my mouth.

Dylan was a handful. Enough to drive a sane man to drink.

If I thought making an offering to the Norse gods of my ancestral homeland to spare me from my near constant state of sexual arousal and frustration whenever she was in the same room as me, I would.

But like Loki, she was wily. And too damn tempting.

And so out of my league I can’t let myself think she was attracted to me.

Locked in a stare down, everyone else in the room faded away. And for once, she kept silent as I tried to win the battle raging within me to grab her and kiss her senseless. And what in the hell did she mean by not having ten years? Why did her words always seem to have another meaning?

I’d been debating why she paid me so much attention.

Because Dylan teased everyone. She was kind.

And friendly. But she seemed to go out of her way to make me…

irritated. Which turned into a case of major sexual frustration and kept me awake half the damn night.

Morning showers had become increasingly colder since she arrived at the lodge.

Why couldn’t she have been someone just looking for a temporary gig?

She’d settled into our little family-slash-tribe as if she were made for me.

Er, it, us… shit . And now her sister was married to one of my closest friends.

So, even if she didn’t stay in the job much longer, she’d always have a connection here.

And I’m not sure I could handle seeing her with another man.

Why some guy hadn’t locked her down already was a mystery.

Dylan and Lauren were twins, fraternal. Something I was thankful for everyday, since that meant I wasn’t lusting after a carbon copy of West’s wife Lauren.

And I’d been lusting. Internally. I did my best to not let her see how she affected me.

Dylan was so far out of my league. Under normal circumstances, our paths would never have crossed, even in a town the size of Pineville.

But she was here, and I had to deal. I’ll be the first to admit, I hadn’t been doing a very good job of it.

I’d become more closed off than usual. Damn, why’d she have to be so, so perfect?

Dylan was taller than her sister. The top of her head came to my shoulders where with most of the women I’d been with had been much shorter.

And I really liked that she was just the right height to pull her flush against me, all her curves lining up just so.

She was leaner than her petite and curvy sister, but all her curves were just right for me. I’d spent hours imagining what her full breasts looked like. Would they be rosy tipped or a deeper red? Either way, I’d gladly spend hours worshiping those often-pebbled peaks.

Then there was her outfits. She wore clothes that flattered her form yet did nothing to hide her very sensitive nipples that, no matter the situation, were always tempting me as they pressed seductively against the silks and linen blouses she preferred.

Yeah, I may be a bit obsessed with those firm globes no matter what she wore.

And now here I was trying my best to keep my eyes from straying below her lovely neck and figure out how to handle the feisty guest services manager who may or may not be open to what I had in mind for her, if I were to make a move.

Which I wasn’t, unless she made it crystal clear that’s what she wanted .

Dylan had been riding my ass all morning over finishing the texturing in the apartment.

West, Ridge and I had built it as an addition over my wood shop.

It was for whomever filled the manager position so they could live on-site.

I’d been in charge of hiring, but after months of wavering, the decision was taken out of my hands when Lauren had offered it to Dylan.

She hadn’t been an applicant, but she’d stepped in and become the perfect fit. For the position, not my sanity.

“Well? Nothing to say. Not even a grunt?” Dylan’s eyes were still blazing, and all I could focus on was would she have the response when I was diving between her thighs making her scream?

Did she realize how glorious she looked standing there, daring me with her chin lifted in the air?

“I’m thinking.” And I was. I’d given Dylan more thought than when I’d joined the Army. More brain power than when West asked me to move to Idaho and help him create his vision. Now our vision. And certainly more thought than I’d given another woman. Ever.

Having her around all the damn time had become torture.

And now she was going to live just feet away from my cabin.

What had begun as temporarily helping us out, had turned into a more permanent choice.

She’d recently returned from a year overseas where Lauren had said she’d been trying to find herself, her purpose.

What if she one day decided that wasn’t here, and she took off again?

My gut ached just thinking about her leaving. The thought of not having her around was…well, I had a hard time picturing this place without her now, and that was a whole other level of torture.

Dylan had been staying with her mom and stepdad, who also lived on Pineville mountain about a mile away. So, I got her urgency in wanting her own space.

Especially since her stepdad was Beckett Rivera. Beck had also been in our Ranger unit and had retired a couple years before I did. And it made the fact that I wanted Dylan all the more complicated since West, Rigde and I had looked up to Beck when we served. Still do.

Sure, she didn’t grow up with him as her stepdad. Her mom, Taya, had only met and married Beck a few years back. Rumor had it they were still in the honeymoon phase and that made for a very awkward home life for any twenty-six-year-old.

Dealing with Beck and his possible disapproval was just one more thing to consider and keep me from making a move with her. Let alone how completely opposite we were.

Dylan was chardonnay and fancy hors d'oeuvres; I’m beer and corn dogs.

Dylan was candlelit three-star restaurant dinners; I’m takeout on the floor in front of a fireplace.

Dylan’s adventurous and fluent in French, and I’m rooted deep into this mountain like a Ponderosa pine.

The only thing I was fluent in was disassembling and re-assembling my sniper rifle in less than a minute. And sawdust. Lots of sawdust.

So, yeah. Dylan and I are opposites with a capital “O.”

Didn’t keep me from wanting her. But it should have. But it made me realistic. So, her and I? Not gonna happen. She’d eventually get bored. Someone as smart and talented as she was would eventually get bored here.

So, like every day since she’d arrived, I’d grin and bear the near daily torture of having her so close yet just out of my reach. It had been four months of head scratching, erection camouflaging and beard stroking. Although that wasn’t the only thing I’d been stroking more of lately.

Looking around to see why the room had gone quiet, West, Ridge and Lauren had left. And taken the food with them.

“You can continue to ignore me, Mr. Olsen. But there’s something you may not know about me.

Even though we’ve interacted quite a bit in the last few months—for work—I still don’t feel we really know each other.

I’ve been wanting to change that. But since you’re a man of few words, I’m going to employ my secret weapon. Want to know what that is?”

Her words, like her very presence, spurred me into action.

I set down the spray gun, crossed my arms, and gave her my full attention.

Secret weapon? This I had to hear. I do my damnedest to maintain a bored look on my face as I waited for the big reveal.

Where was she headed with all this? Hell, if I’ve ever been around a woman who talked as much as Dylan Davis did.

“Nothing? Huh, guess I shouldn’t be surprised since you’re a lover, not a fighter. Which makes teasing you no fun at all, by the way.” Dylan shifted her body as her brown eyes shifted from blazing to teasing along with her sexy, sassy smile.

She’d blown the wind right out of me. I lost it when she said, “ you’re a lover, not a fighter,” releasing a low groan I couldn’t hold back. Her eyes flared hot again at my whatever the hell sound that was, and…dammit.

There were a few enemy soldiers that would beg to differ with her.

She had no idea what type of fighter I’d been.

Pushing all those memories way, way back down, they were less painful now but not forgotten.

I’d dealt with them soon after returning stateside with an amazing therapist and a shit ton of heavy lifting as we remodeled the ancient hunting lodge the last few years.

But I had no plans on sharing any of it with her. Some things were better left unsaid.

Don’t take the bait, Olsen.

“Fine, don’t guess. I can tell by your curious nature that you’re dying to find out.

I, my favorite mountain man, can read minds and I know exactly what you’re thinking.

What you’re thinking when you don’t think I notice you looking at me.

” Her lips pursed in a perfect cupid’s bow and all I wanted to do was lick them apart and devour that sassy mouth of hers.

She kept speaking, but I was lost to desire once again.

I imagined stripping her form fitting slacks from her heart-shaped ass, yanking down her panties then right before I backed her into the nearest wall, free my aching cock and with her urging me on, I’d guide myself deep into her wet pussy and finally put myself out of the fucking misery I’d been living in and?—

“Lars?”

Her soft questioning tone pulled me back to reality only to witness a deep bloom of red on her cheeks.

Her unique feminine scent reached me, confirming she really could read my mind.

“Tell me?” I asked as I stepped over the equipment scattered between us.

“What was I thinking just now? What’s put that sweet blush on your face, Dylan?

” I stopped short of touching her, but close enough to hear her ragged breathing.

“Um…yeah.” Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips and dammit, I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I wanted Dylan this very second.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty lady?” My voice, rusty from so little use, or maybe it was her?

She made me sound like a starving man who was presented with the tastiest of desserts, just out of reach.

Because if I made another move, I’d do all those things I’d just pictured in my bloodless skull.

All that blood once feeding my brain now pulsed in my dick.

A sharp bark filled the air, causing us both to jump. Mood. Killer. PJ, my Newfie, had a knack for sensing my emotions and although he was crotchety to almost everyone but me, he also had an inner compass when it came to Dylan.

He was the ultimate cock blocker covered in fur.

As the dog cozied up to Dylan, we remained frozen. I couldn’t even blink. That’s how badly I didn’t want this moment to end. Because I knew this was the closest I was going to letting myself get to having her.

Dylan absently ruffled PJ behind his ears and, if a dog could smile, mine did. He also had a gleam in his eye. I took it as “ she likes me better than you, blockhead .” Yeah, even my own dog knew how special this woman was and had no trouble asking for her attention.

As my mind switched from hormone overload to near-normal operation, a digital tone filled the room. Dylan fumbled in her pocket and pulled out her pink cell phone. “Oh. Paxton is almost here. I’ve, uh, gotta go. Let’s pick this up, um, later. Okay?” With one last hard if wistful look, she was gone.

Her light musk scent, I’d yet to identity, washed over me as she left.

I stared at the spot she’d just occupied for so long, PJ let out a whine, reminding me it was his dinner time.

Shaking off the last dregs of sexual tension, I made sure my equipment was all turned off before I led the over-indulged senior dog who’d helped me through some pretty low times after I arrived in Pineville, out of the apartment and to my cabin.

The Newfoundland was lucky the only soft spot I possessed was for him.

Otherwise, I’d make him wait for his dinner until I finished texturing so I could get this job finished.

I needed to ensure there’d be fewer reasons to be in Dylan’s crosshairs.

Although she was quickly becoming my second soft spot.

A dangerous and sexy soft spot that tempted me constantly into forgetting every promise made not to cross that line with her totally and permanently useless.

But first, I was going to find out who in the hell Paxton was, and why my girl’s face lit up when she’d read his text? Just as I had the thought, I swore. My girl?

When the hell had I begun thinking of Dylan as mine?