Page 5 of My Bossy Mountain Man (Summer in the Pines #9)

Tulip

Unfortunately, the food disappears one bite at a time, and when nothing but trash remains, we must move on to the main event of the night. Organizing that storage room. It’s a daunting task, even though I’m being positive about taking care of it.

Dallas is as eager as he can be to tackle it, I’m quick to figure out why the room is in the shape it is in the first place.

Snorting as he unfolds each poster, most of them containing useless promotional artwork that would be of no use to us, I easily help him decide that most of this stuff is junk. Despite its uselessness, it’s going to take some coaxing and convincing to get a lot of this stuff in the trash.

Digging through a box, I find a bunch of flyers for a book signing that happened… seven months ago. First off, I didn’t even know we did signings here. Second off…

“I think you’ve got a problem, Dallas. Seriously.” I hold up one of the flyers, not bothering to look at the guy printed on them, even if he’s mildly attractive. “Like, why do you need these?”

He sniffs, rolling his shoulders. “Paper costs money, and that guy puts out a book once a year. If he wants to do another setup here, then I don’t have to worry about making more copies.”

I mean, I guess that’s a good excuse. Good enough to put the flyers back, for now.

Continuing to shift around, I come across the same shirt he’d given me. “Definitely toss these. While I might like this little guy, you’re going to scare kids away if you try to repurpose them.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, and for just a second, I see a hint of a smile.

“I could hand them out as a thank you for supporting the library?” Trying to give me any reason to put the box in the keep pile, he motions over toward it.

“I don’t think so. Unless you want to scare away everyone that does come here.” Scoffing, I put the box in the trash pile. The book mascot won’t have to haunt anyone’s mind but ours.

Ready to move on, I catch him still watching me. I don’t know when it happened, but his frown is gone, replaced by a soft smile. Before my heart can even flutter, it’s like he’s catching himself in the act. One jerk later, and he’s squashing the curve.

My feet are moving me toward him before my brain can catch up with my body.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.” Huffing the words out, my hands move to my hips. “You have a nice smile.”

Just like that, it’s like my words have startled him. He jerks again, his brows coming together in confusion. “What?”

Planting my hands on my hips, I tilt my head to look up at him. “You’ve got a perfectly good smile and you’re hoarding it all to yourself.”

The effect is instantaneous. He stiffens like I’ve poked him with a cattle prod. Between confusion and disagreement, he struggles to find his response.

Now that I’ve started, the words tumble out. I step closer—close enough to count the faint creases at the corners of his eyes that prove he does smile, just never where people can see. “You’re always doing this. Purposely keeping yourself from smiling.”

Okay, maybe lecturing my boss about his facial expressions isn’t in my job description. At the same time, I like to think our relationship expands a little past job roles. I care for him like a friend would, and seeing him react like this is piquing my curiosity.

Unless he’s afraid of making every woman in town flock over here to get a library card, then he has nothing to worry about.

The compliment slips out before I can stop it. “You look nice when you smile.”

The words hang between us, made more intimate by our sudden proximity. Close enough now to catch the faded spice of his cologne, to see the way his throat moves when he swallows. Closer than strictly professional, probably—but when have I ever cared about that?

“I…” He clears his throat, gaze darting around the cramped space like he can’t decide where to land. His fingers twitch at his sides before he finally meets my eyes, hesitant. “I’m like that book, Tulip. When I smile, it’s unsettling.”

A cold prickle runs down my spine. Unsettling? No, I don’t like that at all. Maybe he’s like me—wearing his insecurities just beneath the surface, where no one else can see.

If that’s the case… Well, I might still be wrestling with my demons, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help him face his.

“Dallas.” My voice is firm, but when he doesn’t look at me, I soften it to barely more than a whisper. “Look at me.”

Those storm-gray eyes flicker up, uncertain, and something in my chest tightens. I offer him the gentlest smile I can muster, the kind I hope reassures him.

“Smile for me.”

A simple request. An easy one.

And yet, he hesitates like I’ve asked him to walk over hot coals. His jaw tenses, his throat bobs—but then, finally, he gives in. His lips curve, just slightly. Just enough.

It’s a quiet, reluctant thing, that smile. At the same time, it’s enough.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, wings beating in frantic rhythm with my racing heart. My breath catches, my thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. What was I saying? What was I trying to do?

All I know is that Dallas, smiling, is a revelation.

The way it softens the sharp lines of his face, the way it makes his eyes crinkle at the edges… he’s handsome. More than I originally thought. He’s the kind of man who makes a woman like me wonder how she ever got close enough to touch him in the first place.

Swallowing hard, I force myself to focus. His lips are still tilted in that faint, hesitant curve, and I can’t look away.

“Do I look unsettled to you?” My voice comes out lower than I mean it to, rough at the edges, and a bit shaky.

His gaze darkens, lingering on my face before he exhales slowly. His hands curl into loose fists at his sides, like he’s holding himself back.

“You look…” A pause. A heartbeat. “Flushed.”

Heat floods my cheeks all over again. Honest to a fault, this man.

I should be embarrassed. Maybe I am. But more than that, I’m tired of ignoring the way this man affects me every single day we’re together—that every glance, every accidental brush, doesn’t send sparks skittering across my skin.

So I tilt my chin up, holding his gaze even as my pulse thunders in my ears.

“Whose fault do you think that is?”

Something foreign crosses his eyes. It’s not confusion or surprise. Deep down, I can see the hunger burning behind his gaze. Perhaps it’s always been there, and I’ve never noticed. Right now, it’s impossible to ignore.

“I should apologize.” The words come out rough. Should.

He’s my boss. I should stop him from taking two steps toward me. I should tell him that he can’t reach down and cradle my face like I’m precious, but I don’t. I let him touch my cheeks, all while keeping my eyes on his.

I’m one breath away from begging him to kiss me. Thankfully, he doesn’t need a big push.

He’s so tall, I’d have to stand on the tips of my toes to be able to reach him. Before I’m the one to run out of patience, he reaches that point first as he’s the one to swoop down, wasting no time to steal my breath.

I’ve never kissed someone before, so I’m no master here. Not that it matters. The moment our mouths meet, Dallas is in full control.

At first, all I feel is the heat of his breath against my cheeks before it tickles my lips. A wanting of what is to come, he groans right alongside me.

The heat of his tongue leaves me feeling scorched as he tips my head back, demanding entrance. It’s like he’s been waiting for this moment as long as I have, starving for the discovery of what I taste like.

Instead of getting shy, a moan is the only noise to come out of me at the stroke of his tongue against mine. While he’s busy mapping out my mouth like he’s an adventurer, his hands move away from my face and do some exploring for themselves.

“Fuck.” His groan vibrates against my teeth before his hands find my hips. One tug, and my body is against his. Instantly, I can feel the way his body is responding. “ Fuck. ”

I swear, the only time he curses is whenever it’s just the two of us. More lately than ever. It’s like he can’t control himself when he’s around me. As crazy a thought as that is, I want it to be true.

I want him to completely lose control of himself.

Just as he’s sliding his palms behind me, squeezing my ass through the denim, I’m clutching at his shirt like it’s a lifeline.

I want more. So much more.

He has to take care of this tingling between my legs. Even if I picked the worst freaking outfit ever, I just need him to tuck his hand between my thighs. Stroke the fire a little bit until my legs are trembling. I don’t care, whatever it takes.

Whimpering when his teeth catch my swollen bottom lip, I melt into a puddle against him.

“Dallas…” Moaning his name as he pulls back, through my half-lidded gaze, I see his pupils are blown.

He looks like a shark ready to attack. And he does. Starting with my cheek and then my ear, his mouth soon makes its way down toward my throat. Finally, I feel his tongue against my racing pulse.

“Every inch of you is delicious.” He sounds angry as he sends the compliment in my direction. “I just want to lick you everywhere.”

Is he angry that he can’t taste all of me? Hey, we’re already making out in the storage room. The lines have been crossed. It’ll take me two seconds flat to ditch these overalls.

“I don’t think the boss of this joint would mind if we kept this going,” I breathe out, cracking a joke.

My words hit him, but not in the way I want them to. He doesn’t laugh. Instead, he pulls back to look at me.

His hardened expression is gone. Instead, I’m taking in flushed cheeks, glossy lips, and a messy hair-do that I must’ve caused with my fingers in the heat of the moment.

His breath tickles my lips, a whisper of what was just there. So close to kissing me again, I’m tempted to stand on my toes and pull him down so I can feel his lips once more.

From the way heat is coiling at the pit of my stomach, I can already tell that there is so much more that I want him to do. Unfortunately, he decides it’s best to put out the fire without his hands.

“We need to finish sorting.” Groaning the words out like our task is a chore, his brows come together as he puts some distance between us. “Then… I’ll take you home.”

Oh. Oh. Shoot, did I mess this up?

No. I won’t let it be that way. I finally got to kiss the man of my dreams, and I’m not going to let him have cold feet. No regrets. The lines have been crossed and there isn’t any going back.

We’ll be off the clock. I’ll have the opportunity to finish what was started.

Even if I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, I’m ready to go all out.