Page 3 of Rescued by the Lumberjack (Moonshine Ridge Lumberjacks #1)

Chapter Three

Phoenix

A man peers over the edge of the cliff above me and the sight of him catches me so unprepared that I lose my grip on the roots of the shrub I'd been hanging onto.

It means sliding back down the rocky slope and losing the six feet or so of ground I'd gained, but holy hell! He's gorgeous.

In that rugged way that seems to be par for the course for most of the men on the Ridge. Thick, dark hair flops over his forehead, temporarily hiding the furrows of concern etched there, as he lowers himself to the ground above me and scoots close to the edge to look down at me.

"How far can you climb up, sweetheart?"

Dark eyes crease at the corners in an expression that's both worried and kind.

"Sorry," I call up to him. "You startled me and I lost my grip. I can climb back up again, but I can't get farther than that bush."

His beard brushes the dirt as his head moves to look at the bush I'm gesturing at. The dust in the dark whiskers give it a gray tint, making him look older than I'm sure he really is.

My rescuer nods, mentally calculating what will be required to pull me up the few feet that I can't manage on my own.

"Okay, don't start climbing yet," he tells me before moving back out from the cliff above me, out of my sight.

My heart does a little dying Pacman noise. Not because I think he's abandoning me, but because I wasn't done looking at him.

"I want you to wrap that cord around yourself, hear?

" A loop of olive drab parachute cord falls down to me, barely long enough to reach between me and the man above me.

"Loop it under your arms so if you slip, you don't fall any further down the cliff.

It's all right to rely on the cord, I've got you. "

It's thin, nylon parachute cord. It's not comfortable wrapped around me and I'm not confident that it can really support my weight if I were to slip but it's what we have.

I start climbing my way back up, carefully placing my feet into the little divots I managed to kick into the near vertical surface of the cliff on my previous attempts to climb out of here.

"That's it, you're doing great, baby."

The man's deep voice has a roughness to it that does something wonderful to my lower belly, but his words of encouragement as I climb up as far as I can go on my own are spoken softly.

The combination has me forgetting the ache in my muscles and becoming aware of a different kind of ache forming in my body.

"Just a little more," he coos down at me, one long arm descending toward me. "You're doing such a good job, you can do it, baby. That's it."

The arm reaching down to me is thick with muscles that threaten to split the flannel shirt wrapped around them when his massive hand grasps my wrist and begins to haul me the rest of the way up.

"Good girl," are the first words I hear when I'm safely on horizontal earth again.

The earth isn't the only thing that's horizontal. My mountain man hero has pulled me over the edge in a way that has me landing against his broad chest, his strong arms immediately wrapping around me, as he rolls us away from the ledge.

Adrenaline sparks through me, as relief and triumph short circuit my senses; that's the only excuse I can think of for what would make my lips land so confidently against his.

Adam

M y heart's beating a thousand miles a minute, scared to fucking death that the loose dirt of the cliffside might give way under the toe of her cute little hiking boot, or that my palm is too damn sweaty to keep a solid grip on her wrist when she can finally reach high enough for me to grab hold of her.

Adrenaline rushes my nervous system as that fear turns to victory as the curvy little goddess with the bright blue eyes and raven black pony tail clambers over the edge.

Her soft body collides with mine as I pull her onto level ground, my arms instantly encircle her, so damn relieved to have her safe that I don't even take advantage of the opportunity to appreciate holding those beautiful curves against my body.

I roll us both away from the edge, but I can't let go of her yet. All I can do is hold her tight against me, feeling more possessive of the stranger than I've got a right to.

Loosening my grip on her just enough to give her a once over, I only have a few seconds to take in the hair that's come loose from what might have started off as a sleek pony tail, the rounded face with the lightest of freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose, the thick black lashes that contrast against bright blue eyes, all the pretty features behind the smudges of dirt tracked with tear stains, some nasty-looking scrapes, and bruises that are already dark enough to make me wonder how long she's been down there.

Her eyes find mine and then, before I can utter a word, she lays a set of pillowy lips against mine in a kiss that breaks my mind and lights my body on fire.

I'm on my back in the dirt, my knees bent up and my feet flat on the ground with the woman of my dreams sprawled out across my chest, her hands wrapped around my neck like she thinks she's gotta force me to kiss her.

I should be prying her off me. I should be checking her for dehydration, signs of snake bite, or broken bones. I should be asking her what her fucking name is.

Instead, I put my hands on the sides of her head and cradle her sweet face while I kiss her back like I own her.

Her lips soften against mine, her pressure letting up to let me take control. I can taste the metallic flavor of raw skin where she must have split her lower lip as I press my tongue into her mouth.

She meets me easily, sliding her tongue with mine as her hands move up the back of my neck into my hair.

When she moans into our kiss, my dick decides that's the permission he's been waiting on, engorging completely and thickening behind my fly.

I don't remember where I am, or how I got here, or the fact that I don't even know this woman's name yet. I know she's mine and I know she's just as in this moment as I am.

When I roll to one side, however, the spell breaks.

"Ow! Fuck! Ow!"

My girl breaks her sweet lips away from mine with a jolt and a harsh cry of pain that quickly fills her pretty eyes with tears.

"Shit, sorry... fuck ," I throw apologies at her and mutter curses to myself. "Are you okay? What hurts? Is anything broken? Did you get bit by a snake? Do you need me to call for an airlift?"

I immediately put distance between our bodies, allowing the girl some room to sit up while I kneel in front of her to inspect her wounds.

Her shirt's torn over her right shoulder; same side as the scrape on her cheek.

Further investigation shows more torn clothing along the right side of her body-- a cut on her full hip, a nasty rip across her knee, a long section of fabric along the outside of her thick thigh that's not torn through, but looks beat up.

"I don't think anything's broken, no," she moves her arms and wiggles her fingers.

As she demonstrates her ability to properly flex and bend joints in all the right places, she moves her feet apart, widening her knees to make room for me to take a closer look at the mean-looking gash on her shoulder.

She gazes up at me with so much trust in those blue eyes, and with her knees wide like they are, and the view of full tits stuffed into some sort of sport bra that has her cleavage pushed tight and running damn near up to her neck has my dumbass, caveman brain think about a dozen other things I'd like to be doing while I'm kneeling between those curvy thighs.

"Doesn't look bad enough for stitches," I tell her after I've forced my brain out of the most inappropriately timed gutter-dive of my life and taken a serious look at her injuries. "Let's get you home so I can wash those out and dress 'em up properly."

Notice I skipped the introductions and didn't mention letting her drive out of here on her own?

Yeah. So did I.

I'm in deep already and now that the adrenaline rush is over, I need to make sure that kiss wasn't a fluke.