Page 11 of Wrecked on the Mountain (Stone River Mountain #2)

I make my way toward the team, Charlie falling into step beside me with that knowing grin that suggests he's enjoying my internal crisis way too much.

"Striker!" Beau calls out as we approach. "Please tell me you've got something more exciting planned than standing around watching everyone eat overpriced tacos."

Beau's leaning against the truck with his arms crossed, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. But I know him well enough to recognize the look in his eyes.

He might complain about community events, but he's here.

Just like he was with me in Afghanistan, through those long nights when the mountains around us felt more like prison walls than the freedom they represented back home.

"About time you all showed up," I say, grinning at my team. "What took you so long?"

"Martha couldn't find the emergency radio batteries," Chase explains. "Then I knocked over an entire shelf trying to help her reach them."

"He created more work than he solved," Brooke adds with a bright little laugh that makes something warm unfurl in my chest.

I nod like I'm listening, but my attention keeps drifting to Brooke's legs. The way she shifts her weight from one hip to the other, popping that ass out so perfectly… It has me mesmerized.

All I can imagine is those long, strong legs wrapped around—

"Wake up, dipshit," Beau mutters, elbowing me sharply. "What you got planned for us today?"

Chase grins beside him. "Yeah, you've been teasing us all week. What's this big surprise?"

"Oh, I've got something planned," I say, letting a grin spread across my face. "And this year… it's fucking good."

Every year I do this with the Mountain Rescue team. I host a fundraiser for the community and always, always make it enjoyable. For me.

"Please don't tell me it involves me dressing up as a fucking snowman again," Chase says, which gets a laugh from the group.

"Nothing that embarrassing," I assure him, then look directly at Brooke.

Her eyes meet mine, and something electric passes between us. She blinks slowly, those long lashes creating shadows on her cheeks, and there's something almost... flirtatious about the way she's looking at me.

Like she's remembering when I caught her on the trail, when we stood pressed together for just a moment too long. My heart starts pounding like I'm eighteen years old again, and I have to clear my throat to remember how to speak.

Why hasn't she thanked me for the gifts? More than that, why hasn't she showed up for sunrise?

"Actually," I say, raising my voice so the rest of the team can hear, "this year's charity fundraiser is going to be a little different."

"Different how?" Beau asks suspiciously.

I gesture toward the far end of the festival grounds, where a crowd is starting to gather around the steps that lead to a man-made lake set above the town.

"Well, you know how I love you guys?" I grin mischievously as they all groan. "I thought that this year, Mountain Rescue will host Stone River's first annual Polar Plunge for Charity!"

The silence that follows is beautiful.

They stand there frozen like I've just announced we're jumping into lava instead of ice water. Beau's face hardens into granite. Chase's mouth hangs open. Charlie chokes on his coffee.

And Brooke—her eyes widen in perfect horror.

I can't help it. I throw my head back and laugh.

"Polar plunge," Chase repeats slowly. "As in... jumping into freezing water?"

I wipe the tears from my eyes. "That's typically what a polar plunge involves, yes."

Beau starts laughing, a low rumble that builds into full-blown amusement. "Oh, this is rich. This is fucking perfect. Jamie Striker, Mr. 'Hypothermia is a Serious Medical Condition,' is going to voluntarily jump into a lake in the middle of winter."

"Oh no… no, no, no…" I reply, still grinning. "I never said I was jumping."

Beau's laughter dies.

"What do you mean, you never said you were jumping?" Chase asks carefully.

I look around at their confused faces, saving Brooke for last. Her eyes are wide, like she's about one second from jumping back in that truck and driving straight back to Chicago.

"Every year, one member of the team volunteers for our main charity event," I explain. "This year, we're drawing names."

"Drawing names," Beau repeats.

"Out of a hat."

"A hat."

"A very official hat."

Fuck. This is too good. The horror on their faces is absolutely priceless.

"Well," Brooke says, lifting her chin with confidence. "As the team's medical officer and only temporary member, I assume my name won't be included."

I let my gaze drop deliberately to the purple mug in her gloved hands, then step close enough that I have to look down at her.

"Funny thing about assumptions, sweetheart," I say, my voice dropping low as I lean in just enough to catch that hint of perfume that's been lingering in my truck for days. "You've been using my gifts for three days without so much as a thank you."

The scent of her makes my balls tighten and my pulse spike.

"That tells me," I continue, letting my breath ghost across her ear, "you're already part of this team."

Her cheeks flush deep pink, and I watch her throat work as she swallows. "I was going to thank you—"

"When?" I murmur, not backing away. "After you talked your way out of the polar plunge?"

I can practically see her brain scrambling for a medical argument while her body responds to my proximity.

"Besides," I add, letting my fingers brush against hers as I gesture to the mug, "temporary or not, you're wearing the uniform. You're part of the team. Your name goes in the hat."

"Jamie," she says finally. "Exactly how cold is this water going to be?"

I meet her gaze, letting my grin turn predatory.

"Cold enough to make it interesting. But don't worry," I continue, unable to resist pushing just a little further. "I'll be standing by with warm blankets and hot chocolate. It's my job to make sure whoever draws the short straw gets properly... warmed up afterward."

Color floods her cheeks, and I can see her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat, the sight making me want to latch on and suck as hard as I possibly can just to hear her moan my name.

"That's very... thorough of you," she manages.

"Okay. This is getting weird." Chase clears his throat loudly. "So when exactly are we drawing these names?"

I reluctantly tear my gaze away from Brooke's flushed face. "Right now, actually. Martha's just pulled up with the rest of the crew and she's got the official hat. We'll do it by the main stage."

As we start walking toward the center of the festival, I can't stop thinking about the possibilities. The hat's got six names in it, which means there's a one-in-six chance I'll get to see Dr. Brooke Shields soaking wet and shivering.

Fuck. The mental image alone has me adjusting my stance.

"You're enjoying this way too much," Beau mutters beside me.

"Just supporting local charity," I reply innocently.

The crowd around the main stage is growing as word spreads. I spot my parents near the front, Mom clutching Dad's arm with excitement. Behind them, Etta and Mabel have abandoned their booth entirely, probably hoping for maximum romantic drama.

Martha's arrived and set up at a small table with an honest-to-God top hat that she probably borrowed from the community theater. The woman takes her administrative duties seriously.

"Alright, people!" I call out, stepping up to address the growing crowd. "Time for the main event!"

The festival buzz quiets as everyone turns toward the stage.

"As you all know, Mountain Rescue puts on a charity event every year," I continue, my voice carrying easily across the crowd. "This year, we're doing something special. One member of our team will be taking the plunge into Willow Lake to raise money for the new Stone River Medical Center!"

Cheers and applause ripple through the crowd, along with a few sympathetic groans.

I gesture toward the lake that rests behind Bear Paw Café. A dunking platform has been set up—a professional-grade operation with safety railings and a heated recovery area that looks like it belongs at a luxury spa.

"The water temperature," I announce with a grin, "is currently just above freezing. Barely ."

Collective gasps and nervous laughter from the crowd. Beside me, I hear Brooke mutter something that sounds like "hypothermia protocol."

"But don't worry," I add, looking directly at her. "We've got medical supervision, heated recovery facilities, and all the free hot chocolate you can drink afterwards, thanks to our biggest sponsor today, Betty and Bear Paw Café!"

Martha holds up the hat with theatrical flair. "Six names. One lucky winner."

I step forward, making a show of rolling up my sleeves. The crowd's energy is infectious—kids bouncing on their toes, adults placing donations, the whole community invested in this moment.

My hand hovers over the hat, and I catch Brooke's eye. She's biting her lower lip, in a way that makes me want to smooth it with my thumb.

Please be her. Please be her. Please be—

"The winner of this year's polar plunge," I announce, unfolding the paper, "is..."