Page 22 of Wrecked on the Mountain (Stone River Mountain #2)

I can still hear Knox calling my name from inside, probably trying to smooth over whatever the hell just happened, but I'm already stalking across the gravel parking lot toward my truck.

Temporary.

I yank open the driver's door and slide into the cab. I shove the key into the ignition and grip the steering wheel, staring out at the dark mountains rising around Stone River like silent judges.

My knuckles are white against the leather, and I force myself to take a breath before I do something stupid like drive my fist through the windshield.

They can't be right.

Just because last time I got invested in someone who was only here temporarily, I ended up with an engagement ring on my counter three days before the big day.

The engine turns over with a rumble, and I pull out of the parking lot, trying to focus on the route back to my cabin. Somehow, I drive past the darkened storefronts and the soft glow of porch lights of the town until I'm eventually driving in through the front gates of Mountain Rescue Station.

Temporary. Just passing through. Only here for three months.

I jump out of the truck and tell myself I'm just checking on the night shift. Making sure everything's running smoothly.

It's not like I'm stalking my own employee because some paranoid voice in my head is whispering that she's going to disappear the moment I let my guard down.

Except that's exactly what I'm doing.

I look around and the parking lot is mostly empty—just Chase's truck and one of the backup rescue vehicles. Brooke's car is gone.

My heart starts pounding in my chest, and I use my key to enter through the side door, expecting to find Brooke and Chase monitoring the weather systems or reviewing emergency protocols.

Instead, the main office is deadly quiet. All except for the familiar noise of the flashing electronics and the soft sound of... moaning?

What the fuck?!

I freeze in the doorway, heartbeat thundering in my ears, while my brain immediately conjures up a dozen nightmare scenarios to explain those soft, breathy sounds echoing from the monitoring station down the hall.

Every protective instinct I've honed through years of military service and mountain rescues flares to life, along with something darker and more possessive.

I storm into the operations room and it's Chase.

His back is to me, head thrown back, eyes closed, making soft sounds of pleasure that make my vision go red around the edges.

Brooke is the only other one on the roster tonight. I knew I should have fucking changed that when I saw it.

Every rational thought I've ever had disappears in a flood of pure, possessive rage. I storm across the room, ready to tear Chase Morrison's fucking head off for touching what's mine.

"What the hell is going on here?!" I roar.

Chase jumps out of his chair like he's been shot, spinning around with wide eyes and startles so big he dumps an entire bag of gummy bears all over himself.

Bright colored candies scatter across the floor like confetti, and Chase stands there covered in his favorite snacks, looking like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Jesus Christ, Strike!" he gasps, clutching his chest. "You scared the shit out of me, man!"

I stare at him, brain struggling to process the scene in front of me. "What... what… what the fuck were you doing?!"

"Eating gummy bears," he says, eyebrows shooting up. "What the fuck did you think I was doing?"

"Getting a fucking blowjob from my girlfriend!" I bark out before I can stop myself.

Chase's jaw drops. The room goes dead silent except for the gentle patter of a stray gummy bear still somehow rolling across the floor.

"I was eating GUMMY BEARS, man!" Chase screams back, his voice cracking. "What is wrong with you?!"

I stand there, my chest heaving, as reality crashes down around me.

The empty station. The moaning. The goddamn candy.

I've officially lost my goddamn mind.

The evidence of my insanity lies scattered across the floor in neon colors, each little bear a witness to my complete psychological breakdown.

All because I heard the man having a religious experience with some sugar-coated candy.

"Your... girlfriend?" Chase's expression shifts from outrage to delight. "So you and Doc Shields are official now?"

I want to melt into the floor and disappear forever.

"Shut up and give me one of those."

Chase grins but doesn't say another word. "They're the good ones from Germany. My sister sends them to me. They're fucking amazing."

He extends his hand toward me, offering a small handful of the colorful treats. I shake my head and he bends down to start collecting the scattered candy, still talking a mile a minute.

"I was savoring them, you know? Taking my time. These things are like twenty bucks a bag, so I make them last. Was just getting to the cherry ones when you came bursting in here like the building was on fire."

He was eating candy.

He was eating fucking candy.

The relief that floods through me is so intense it makes my knees weak, followed immediately by embarrassment that makes my face burn.

What the hell is happening to me? My girlfriend? Did I seriously just say that? Out loud?

"Where's Dr. Shields?" I ask, trying to sound casual instead of like a jealous maniac who almost just accused his employee of getting a blowjob at work.

"She went home," Chase says, still picking up gummy bears. "Said she wasn't feeling well. Headache or something. I told her I could handle the night shift solo. It's been dead quiet anyway."

She went home sick.

Not because she's planning to leave Stone River. Not because she's having second thoughts about us. Not because she's realized that a small-town mountain man isn't worth staying for.

She's just got a headache.

"She seemed fine when she got here," Chase continues, completely oblivious to my internal crisis. "But around nine, she got all quiet and distracted. Said she needed to go lie down."

"Is she okay?" I ask, because despite my paranoid spiral, I'm genuinely concerned.

If she isn't feeling well, I should make sure she's okay.

"Yeah, I think so." Chase gives me a knowing look. "You should probably check on her," Chase suggests casually, popping another gummy bear in his gob. "Make sure she's got everything she needs."

I should leave. But maybe I should also let her have the space she apparently needs. I should act like a professional instead of a lovesick teenager who can't go four hours without seeing his girlfriend.

Girlfriend.

The word stops me cold because I realize that's exactly what Brooke has become, isn't it? Not just the hot doctor I'm sleeping with. Not just a temporary distraction.

She's my girlfriend.

My girlfriend.