Page 4 of Summer with the Mountain Man (Mountain Man Summer #16)

Chapter Four

Luca

Fuck. Did I say that out loud?

Rubbing at the back of my neck, I drag my stare from the gorgeous redhead American berating herself and scowl at the water dragon.

Two hours ago, the Bureau of Meteorology sent out a high-wind warning, forecasting destructive gusts. In Hartley Ridge, during a dry summer and an intense heatwave, that spells possible danger. It’s bushfire season dialed up to eleven.

I don’t officially rejoin the team until Monday, but no way was I going to sit on my arse doing nothing while the team preps for what might hit.

I’d headed up into the local mountains and peaks to warn the Airbnb guests, campers, and anyone on the various hiking trails scattered around the area.

I’d needed something to distract my brain from thinking about the gorgeous redheaded American. Saving tourists fit the bill.

Hudson had suggested I check in on the house sitter at the Whitmore place, and my cock had flooded with hot interest. Doreen had told me exactly who was house-sitting for the mayor: the gorgeous redheaded American who’d driven the Whitmores’ old ute on the wrong side of the road yesterday.

I’d almost told Hudson to send someone else. I wasn’t back in the Ridge to fall in lust with a tourist. But then he’d said he had to go because there was an issue with the engine’s water pressure valve, and saying no because I was horny felt pathetic.

Fuck, I wish I’d said no.

No, you don’t.

Unable to stop myself, I return my gaze to the young woman.

She’s looking at the water dragon, chewing on her bottom lip.

My cock throbs. It’s like I’m looking at the very definition of a sexual goddess.

Is she aware how fucking incredible she looks half naked, hair a wild copper tumble of waves falling around creamy bare shoulders, tits almost bursting from a tight black tank that stops an inch above a belly button I want to explore with my tongue.

Fuck, is that some ink on the curve of her hip?

Some kind of math equation? Brief little black panties that I want to rip from her body, and lush thighs I want to feel pressed either side of my head as I make her come over and over again with my mouth.

A raw groan vibrates low in my chest.

She looks back at me, her jade-green eyes unreadable. “So,” she says, her American accent like aural Viagra, flooding my cock with more blood, “you’re saying everything is okay?”

Everything is far from fucking okay. I want to throw this woman over my shoulder, carry her into the mayor’s house, and make her mine. Brand her flesh with my mouth. Pump her sweet pussy full of my?—

“Well,” I growl, “the lizard is, at least.”

She licks her bottom lip, making me want to groan again, and then narrows her eyes at me. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

Your future husband.

“Luca Cormack.” I hold out my hand. “I’m with the Hartley Ridge fire brigade.”

“Hi,” she says. I”m Riley Diaz.” A hot breeze plays with her hair, tousling it around her face as she slips her palm into mine. A jolt of electricity shoots up my arm and sinks into my groin.

With a soft breath, she withdraws her hand and takes a step back from me. “And you’re here because…”

As if to answer for me, a sudden hot gust blasts us from the west, whipping dirt and dust up around us in a frenzied whirly wind.

The goddess yelps, trying to protect her face with her hands. “Ow, I’ve got something in my eye,” she cries, eyes squeezed tightly.

Around us, the wind roars through the leaves in an almost deafening howl.

“Let me help you inside,” I say, raising my voice over it.

“What?”

“Let me—” I shake my head. “Just trust me,” I shout and scoop her up in my arms.

She yelps again, a faint laugh in the sound, and clings to me. “Oh my God, really?”

“Really,” I state, taking the steps up to the porch two at a time.

I hit the landing just as the wind dies.

Arms still wrapped around my neck, she squints at me, lips twitching. “This is some meet cute.”

The wind blasts at us both again, like an invisible, smoldering wrecking ball.

“Let’s get you inside,” I say, adjusting her in my arms to open the door.

My body is sparking with base male hunger at the soft warmth of hers nestled against my chest. She smells divine.

Feels divine. If I drop my head, I could claim her mouth with mine, tease her tongue, bite her lip.

I could press my mouth to the swell of her amazing tits spilling over her neckline and mark her flesh so no other man could mistake she’s taken.

I carry her across the threshold at the exact second a splintering crack rises over the wailing wind.

She flinches, curling closer into my chest, her arms tight around my neck, her face burying under my chin. “What was that?”

“Tree down somewhere,” I answer, cock throbbing. “Big one.”

“The lizard?” she says, her voice a husky breath.

“Will be okay,” I reply with a smile as I kick the door shut behind us and move deeper into the house. Fuck, I could fall for this woman.

She lifts her head as we enter the living room and meets my gaze, her eyes shining with an emotion that stirs something elemental in me.

Desire. Need.

Connection.

I return her feet to the floor, holding in a groan as her body slides down mine. I want to grab her arse, yank her hips to mine, and kiss her. Instead, I let my hands slip from her waist and take a step back. Putting distance between us.

“I think I need to go wash my eyes.” She half turns away. “I’ve definitely got dirt in them.”

And before I can reply, she rises up on tiptoe and brushes the quickest of kisses on my lips. “Thank you,” she whispers and then hurries from the room without looking back.

“You’re welcome,” I growl, shoving my balled fists into my pockets.

How the hell am I going to keep my fucking hands off her?