Page 3 of Mountain Man’s Mail Order Treat (Wildwood Valley Brides #3)

JARETH

“ I ’ll get these,” I said, handing Whitley the keys to my cabin.

I needed a second to catch my breath. Being cooped up in the truck with her on the hour-plus drive from the airport to Wildwood Valley was overwhelming enough. But then we’d sat in the diner, where she’d revealed that not only was she a virgin, but she wanted to lose her virginity to me—tonight.

I had no idea how I felt about that. About any of it. I’d hoped things would get physical between us tonight, but I never, in a million years, would’ve imagined she was a virgin.

I hated the way it excited me even more.

She rolled her carry-on up my sidewalk toward the front door of my cabin while I unloaded the other three suitcases, carrying two of them and depositing them on the porch before going back and getting the other.

Then I covered the rest of her belongings with a tarp.

It was safe out here, but it would protect her boxes from the elements.

By the time I got into the cabin, she was nowhere to be seen. A surprise, since this was basically one big open room. Well, aside from the bedroom behind a door and a loft holding a full-size guest bed.

“You in here?” I called out.

She emerged through the door to my bedroom, and my dick jumped to attention at the sight of her standing there. She was still fully dressed, although she had left her shoes by the door, so there was nothing unusually sexy about it. It was just her. Everything about her was sexy.

And now she was standing feet from where I slept every night. Where I jacked off to relieve the stress of a hard day’s work. Where, if I was lucky, I’d be coming inside her in the very near future.

“Sorry,” she said. “I made myself at home. I used your bathroom.”

I grabbed the handles of two of her rolling suitcases but didn’t make a move toward her just yet. “You’re still…uh, you’re still okay sharing the bed with me?”

She nodded. No hesitation. No blush. Just that steady gaze of hers that made it damn hard to think straight.

I cleared my throat and rolled both suitcases toward her as she breezed past me, heading to the door to get her last remaining bag.

I scanned the room as I set the luggage next to her carry-on bag near the dresser.

The bed was made—freshly laundered sheets, extra pillows.

I’d thought maybe she’d want her own space, but after what she told me at the diner, space might not be what either of us wanted.

I busied myself with pointless tasks—straightening a throw blanket at the foot of the bed, adjusting the lamp on the nightstand like I hadn’t already turned it just so earlier. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

I just needed to keep my hands moving before I did something stupid. Like reach for her too soon. The nervous energy was a buzz beneath my skin. I didn’t know if I was more afraid she’d change her mind or that she wouldn’t.

When I came back out, Whitley was standing in the middle of the room, looking around like she was memorizing every inch. I watched her for a second—long enough for her to notice.

“You want something to drink?” I asked, rubbing a hand along the back of my neck. “I’ve got soda, beer, juice… There might be sweet tea in the fridge unless I finished it.”

She smiled. “Water’s good.”

I nodded and headed to the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of water and cracking them open before I returned. She took one from me, her fingers brushing mine, light and quick, but still enough to make me feel it in my gut.

Then her gaze lifted as she pointed toward the ladder behind me. “What’s up there?”

I followed her line of sight. “The loft? Just a guest bed. Nothing fancy.”

Her brow arched. “Can I see it?”

“Sure,” I said, but my voice came out rougher than I meant it to. I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Of course.”

She started for the ladder, and I followed. No way was I letting her climb that thing without spotting her.

Only once I was standing behind her did I realize I’d gone from gentleman to perv in the space of a few seconds.

The skirt of her dress came to her calves, but it flowed with the air as she rose upward, blowing out just enough for me to get a glimpse of most of her legs.

I took several steps back and waited for her to reach the top before moving to the bottom of the ladder.

“I assume you never sleep up here?”

“No,” I called up. Just a few more rungs and I’d be at the top of the ladder. “The loft was already here when I moved in. All the cabins on this street have them. I figured if any of my military buddies ever came to visit, they could sleep up here.”

I stopped at the top of the ladder and froze.

Whitley was seated in the center of the bed, legs crossed like she’d made herself at home.

Okay, so there wasn’t exactly anywhere to stand or sit.

This room was all bed, with a tiny sliver of space where the narrow nightstand sat, only big enough to hold a small lamp.

“What about family?” she asked. “I just realized you haven’t mentioned them. Parents? Siblings?”

I shook my head. Had been shaking it almost from the start, as soon as she mentioned parents.

“None of that.”

I wanted to leave it there. With anyone else, I would have. I was surprised, with as many hours as we’d spent on the phone, that I’d managed to avoid it this long.

“My aunt raised me,” I continued. “She’s dead now.”

Really, was that all I was going to say about her? It sounded cold, like I didn’t love my aunt. But I’d been devastated by her death. It had come just after I’d enlisted, and it had only cemented my decision. A decision that had taken me away from the only home I’d ever known.

But Whitley didn’t look as stunned as I would’ve expected. Instead, she stared at me with a flat expression, her eyes steady and her face completely neutral.

She wasn’t judging me. My guess? She was trying to figure me out.

“My only siblings are the brothers I served with,” I said. “A couple of them live here now—Reilly and West. You’ll meet them.”

It was clear from her expression that she wasn’t thinking about my friends at this moment. Her mind was on me.

I didn’t see pity in her eyes, though. No, it was more like discovery. As if maybe she’d developed an all-new appreciation for me. A soft spot in her heart.

Was she falling for me? Doubtful. Not yet. But it was a good start toward convincing her that I was the man for her.

“I was raised by my nana,” Whitley suddenly said. “My mom got into drugs. Well, I guess she was already into them when I was born. I’m not sure how I turned out okay.”

She held up a hand and wiggled her fingers as though to demonstrate she only had five. She let out a laugh—something between a chuckle and a giggle.

Now I was the one staring with an all-new appreciation.

We’d already discovered all the things we had in common—our love for the mountains, a good horror movie, and country music.

But the biggest thing we had in common, we hadn’t even discussed.

Our upbringing. Maybe we’d both been deliberately avoiding the subject.

She patted the bed beside her. “You going to sit with me or just hover there like a nervous teenager?”

I let out a dry laugh, but my hand gripped the ladder tighter. “Whitley…”

“I’m not asking you to do anything. Just…come sit.”

I climbed the last few rungs and lowered myself onto the edge of the bed, careful not to sit too close. The mattress dipped beneath me, and the air shifted between us. Up here, it was all close quarters. No distractions. No distance.

Just her.

She turned toward me, legs still crossed. “You’re wondering if I’m really sure.”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “It’s not exactly something you can undo.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“And tonight? Me?”

“You think I’m making some kind of rash decision?” she asked. “That I’m trying to prove something?”

I didn’t answer.

She gave a small shrug. “It’s not like I was saving it for marriage or some magical moment under the stars.

I was just…busy. Obsessed with building something.

I’ve been working nonstop trying to get my jam and jelly business going.

I did festivals every weekend, ran deliveries during the week, taught myself to design labels.

I didn’t have time to date. And then the longer I went without, the harder it got to… you know, just casually hand it over.”

Her eyes met mine again, softer now. I knew whatever she was about to say would hit hard.

“But you?” she said. “You don’t feel casual.”

My throat was dry. I couldn’t have said anything even if I wanted to.

She smiled, slow and bold. “If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be up here. I wouldn’t have told you.”

I looked down, gripping the edge of the mattress, trying to anchor myself to something.

All I could think about was getting her naked. Getting my hands on her warm skin. Her bare thighs straddling me, her mouth parting when I kissed her.

I was one breath away from making the worst kind of mistake, or the best kind of memory. And I still hadn’t moved.

“I want this,” I said finally, my voice low, rough. “You need to know that.”

She didn’t say anything, just watched me. Waiting.

I continued. “But I also need you to know…I don’t want it if it’s just for tonight.”

Her brows drew together slightly. I kept going.

“I’m not some checkmark on a list. Not your little ‘first time’ box to tick before you get back to jam jars and farmers markets. I’m in this, Whitley. For real. For life.”

I let the words settle, even though they burned on the way out. I couldn’t stop now. I had to get it all out. All the stuff that had been bugging me since she arrived in town, obviously more interested in selling her products than marrying me.

“I don’t want to be something you regret tomorrow morning. I don’t want to be a detour on your way to whatever business empire you’re building. I want you to be sure you’re not just here because it’s convenient or because you think I’ll make it easy.”

She blinked. Once. Twice. Then she leaned forward, her palm sliding over mine where it still clutched the edge of the bed.

“You think I don’t know the difference between convenient and right?” she asked quietly. “I’ve done nothing convenient in my whole damn life.”

Her fingers curled around mine. The warmth made me feel more secure than I ever had.

“I came here on a whim, yeah. But I stayed because something in me said this place mattered. You mattered. I’m not trying to build a jelly empire at your expense. I’m just trying to live a life that feels real. And you…” Her lips curled into a soft smile. “You feel very, very real.”

I looked down at our hands, at the contrast of her delicate fingers over mine.

“I’ve waited a long time,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not waiting anymore. Not when the one thing I want is right in front of me.”

I swallowed hard. That was it. I couldn’t sit still any longer. I shifted on the bed, turning toward her, cupping the back of her neck as I looked into her eyes.

“Then you better know what you’re starting,” I said. “Because I’m not the kind of man who touches a woman like you and lets her go.”

“Then touch me. Because I don’t want you to let me go.”

That was all the go-ahead I needed. It broke down the last of my resistance.

“Let’s go to my bedroom,” I said.

I hopped off the bed, which put me directly onto the ladder in just one twist and two steps. But I stopped there, noticing she seemed to have no intention of leaving that bed. In fact, she sat up on her knees.

I nearly fell down the ladder because of what she did next. She grabbed the skirt of her dress and tugged it upward. It was meant to be a seductive move, but the skirt was trapped under her knees, so she had to wiggle around to get it free.

It was just about the sweetest sight I’d ever seen. I had to admit, the whole thing had me falling a little deeper.

Finally, she freed the fabric and tugged the sundress upward, dropping it to the bed next to her. All I could see was the gorgeous body in front of me. Curves for days. Rounded hips. Breasts that threatened to spill out over the cups of her black bra.

“I bought this just for you,” she said, following my stare to her chest. “I didn’t own any sexy underwear. I had no reason to until I knew I was coming here.”

“So you aren’t just here to sell your jams and jellies?” I asked, gripping the top of both sides of the ladder.

She looked up at me. “You thought that?”

“You seemed…not all that excited about marrying me.” I shrugged. “I thought that was the point of you coming here.”

“I’m scared. I know we’re supposed to get married, but I went through a pretty bad breakup.

We didn’t sleep together. I don’t know—he kept pushing, but it just didn’t feel right.

We were only together six months.” She sighed.

“So I’m not sure why it bothered me so much that he dumped me.

I guess it showed me how much it hurts. Not just my pride, either. ”

I didn’t know what to say to that. So I remained silent, watching her, waiting for her to explain.

She swallowed hard. “I guess I saw a glimpse of how much it would hurt if I really did care about someone and he left me for someone else.”

“He left you for someone else?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Yes, and I don’t know, they seem happy, so I guess she’s sleeping with him.”

“I just need to know one thing,” I said. “Am I a rebound?”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No. I signed up for the website when I was on the rebound, yes, but then I met you. I’ve barely thought of my ex since we started talking. But…”

My heart sank. Here was the bad news. I wouldn’t sleep with her unless I knew for sure that she wouldn’t go back to this moron if his new relationship didn’t work out.

“Our conversations have me scared,” she said. “I know what can happen if I open my heart to you. You could hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll never hurt you. I would hurt anyone who hurt you, actually. I’d protect you with my life.”

I knew that much already. And that feeling would only get deeper the harder I fell.

“Good.” A smile spread over her face. “Now get over here and show me what I’ve been missing.”