Page 4 of Pining for Porter (Mountain Men Fall Harder #8)

Stella

"Stella and Porter sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

I roll my eyes at Monroe, who makes smooching noises and swoons back onto my carpet with a giggle. "I am never telling you anything, ever again," I grumble. But inside, I'm a hot and bothered mess.

Sleep was impossible last night. The insatiable ache between my legs after Porter's kisses, and the whirlwind of emotions as I try to process the sudden turn of events in my love life has me in desperate need of a nap.

And yet, here we are, folding pie boxes to get ready to fill for the festival, while I freak out about my date tonight with Porter.

Apparently, everything's coming up Stella this week, and I'm freaking out a bit, to be honest.

"I'm so sorry I can't help you with the pies tonight," Monroe says, as she origamis another box into the right shape. "And I'm equally upset that the festival falls on the one work trip I have to take this year." Monroe pouts as she adds the box to the growing pile.

"I'm sorry you're going to miss it, too. Thank you for leaving me your van. What time is your flight?"

"Aunt Trish is taking me to the airport around 4pm." She stands up and rummages through her purse. "I'm putting the keys here." Monroe holds the keys in front of her, exaggerating the motion as she puts them by the bread box and points at them. Twice.

"Lose your keys three or four times and suddenly a girl gets a reputation," I grumble.

"Hey, do me a favor and get a reputation tonight, will ya?" Monroe wiggles her eyebrows at me. "What are you wearing?"

"I have no idea." I glance around at all the boxes. "Maybe I should cancel? I have to get up at 2am tonight to start making pies." Even as I say it, I know I'm not cancelling a damn thing. The idea of not seeing Porter tonight makes my stomach turn more than the anticipation of our date.

Mitzie lets me use the kitchen at the diner after-hours for the weekly pie order at Joy's shop. I made pies last night after my shift, but I have about forty more to get done tonight. And then, another round the next night to close out the festival. That's assuming anyone buys them.

"Ooh, maybe Porter can help you with the pies. He can just roll out of bed with you." Monroe wiggles her eyebrows at me again.

"Your face is going to stick like that if you don't stop." My nerves and lack of sleep have me on edge. The truth is, I've never gone beyond second base with a guy. I've never met anyone who I wanted to be my first. But call me slugger—I'm ready to hit it out of the park tonight.

Monroe sticks her tongue out at me. "Oh let me live vicariously through you. The leaves haven't fallen in my direction in a loooong time." She grins as she stacks the boxes into bags to make it easier to take down to her van.

"Play hooky from work this weekend, and maybe you'll have a mountain man by Christmas," I say, and then immediately regret it when sadness washes over Monroe's features. It's a split second before she shakes her head and smiles again, but it's there.

"I'm so sorr—" I start, but Monroe cuts me off.

"Nothing to be sorry about." She waves away my concern. Monroe's mom passed away around Christmas years ago, before we ever met. Her father remarried our last year of college, and although she gets along with his new wife, she still can't bring herself to spend Christmas with them.

"I have plans this Christmas. I've rented the same little cabin near Passion Ridge that I did the last two years.

It's perfect. Cute, clean, and quiet. I don't want to mess it up by having to bring someone with me.

" She smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Although, I'm perfectly willing to have a mountain man fall for me for a few days in November, or maybe in the new year. "

She winks at me when I chuckle. "Now, let's stop worrying about the next few months and start thinking about what outfit is going to get you laid tonight."

Monroe picks out a short wine-red fit and flare dress in a jersey material that hugs my curves, and a little black leather jacket to handle the late October weather.

When Porter picks me up for our date, the heat of his gaze as he does a slow perusal of my body makes the jacket completely unnecessary.

We walk hand in hand to Ming's Noodles and spend the next two hours getting to know each other. Dinner is everything I hoped it would be, but all I can think about is kissing him again. I take a sip of my drink, laughing nervously as Porter stares at me with heat in his eyes.

"What?" I ask, simultaneously loving and squirming from his attention.

"Just admiring the view, cupcake," he says

"Why do you call me cupcake?" I ask curiously.

Porter levels me with a panty-dropping gaze. "You had a cupcake shirt on the first time we met." The suggestive smirk on his face brings it all crashing back.

"Oh my god." That shirt. My cheeks heat, but I have to squeeze my thighs together from the deep throb his intense stare is putting right between my legs.

Monroe got it for me as a welcome to Maple Ridge gift.

A retro baking t-shirt, but it didn't fit quite right.

I didn't have the heart to tell her, so I wore it proudly, even though it was at least a size too small.

Maybe three judging by Porter's hungry eyes.

"You looked incredible," Porter says in a low, deep voice.

I shake my head, unable to look him in the eye, even though I flush from the compliment.

"In fact, the sight of you in that shirt has kept me warm for eight long months."

My anxious defense mechanism kicks in, and I roll my eyes like I couldn't care less, even as my heart rejoices with this information.

"Oh yeah?" I tease. "You like me in a tight shirt and flat on my back?" I gasp, realizing what I said.

"Yes," Porter growls immediately.

If it was humanly possible, my entire body would burst into flames right now.

I try to cool both my cheeks with my hands, hoping desperately that my inexperience doesn't show like a flashing neon sign over my head.

To be honest, a part of me is terrified for the entire thing, but the other part is ready to let this man do whatever he wants with me.

"Porter," I say, reaching for his hand. "Let's go back to my place."

"Stella," Porter whispers, gripping my hands and looking me straight in the eyes. "I've already kissed you without asking. I don't want to go any faster than you want tonight. I'm not going anywhere."

"I appreciate that. More than you can imagine." I bring his hand to my lips, kissing the inside of his palm. "But I'd really like you to stay over tonight." My heart is thundering in my chest, and my core aches with need, but there is not one fiber in my body that isn't on board with this plan.

"Check, please!" Porter calls out, raising his fingers. When nobody hears him, he jumps up. "I'm going to find our server."

I stifle a giggle as he races to the hostess stand to get our bill, and then bite my lip and send out a silent prayer to the universe.

Please make this man want my heart as much as he wants the rest of my body.