Page 48 of Wrecked on the Mountain (Stone River Mountain #2)

"It was honestly the best moment of my entire life." His voice goes soft, sincere, and something flutters in my chest that has nothing to do with my hangover. "You were incredible last night, Piper. Not drunk-you or rebellious-you. Just... you."

The coffee mug trembles in my hands. "You don't even know me."

Chase sets down his mug and takes a step closer. "Maybe not. But how'd it feel?"

"Last night? Terrifying," I admit, though the ache between my legs makes me smile.

"What if I like who I am when I'm making terrible decisions?

What if I like climbing fire escapes and drinking wine straight from the bottle.

And sleeping with men who think appropriate breakfast attire is. .. nothing?"

"Whoa. So judgmental. These are my pajamas, Piper," Chase says with a shrug of his impressively round shoulders. "Plus, would any of that be so bad?"

"Yes!" The word bursts out of me. "You don't understand. My entire life is built on being perfect. Perfect grades, perfect job, perfect penthouse, perfect everything. My parents have a plan, and I've been following it since I was five years old."

"Perfect penthouse, huh? And how's that working out for you?"

I stare at him, this man who's standing naked in his kitchen like it's the most natural thing in the world, asking me questions that cut straight to the heart of everything I've been avoiding.

"Well, let's see," I say, setting down my mug and counting on my fingers. "I have a nursing degree I don't want anymore, a trust fund I can't access because my parents say I'm 'not worthy' of it yet, and absolutely zero idea what I actually want from life. So clearly, it's going brilliantly."

"Mm-hmm." Chase's hazel eyes dance with mischief. "And last night? When you were screaming my name loud enough to wake half of Stone River? How did that feel?"

Heat floods my cheeks. "I was not screaming."

"Baby, you were loud enough that Mrs. Jones next door turned her porch light on."

"Oh God." I bury my face in my hands. "I'm never going to be able to look anyone in this town in the eye again."

"Hey." His voice goes soft, and suddenly he's right there, gently pulling my hands away from my face. "You were perfect. All of it was perfect. The way you took charge, the way you told me exactly what you wanted..."

My breath catches as he traces his thumb along my jaw and moves closer. I can't help but notice how his biceps flex beneath his skin as he reaches for me.

God, he's beautiful.

"The way you looked at me when I was between your legs, begging me not to stop."

"Chase."

He doesn't stop, his breath warming my skin. Fuck. I've never wanted to run my hands over someone's chest so badly, to feel those hard ridges of muscle beneath my palms and discover if the rest of him is as perfectly sculpted as what I can see.

"Chase," I whisper, my carefully constructed composure crumbling faster than a house of cards.

"Yeah?" He moves in closer, testing my self-control with his all-naked glory. "You want to know what happens now?"

"Uh-huh."

"What happens now…" Chase says, his thumb gliding across my bottom lip. "…is we get breakfast. At Bear Paw Café. I want to watch you try to explain why you're wearing my shirt to half the town."

"I'm not wearing your shirt!"

"You're not wearing much of anything under that dress either, considering your underwear is still hiding behind your back."

Heat floods my face. "Chase Morrison, you are—"

"Irresistible? Devastatingly handsome? The best terrible decision you've ever made?"

"Impossible," I finish, but I'm fighting a smile.

He steps closer, boxing me in against the counter, and suddenly the kitchen feels about ten degrees warmer. "Come on, Piper. When's the last time anyone called you brave?"

I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out.

When was the last time I was brave? I've spent my entire life being careful, calculated, perfect. Safe.

"But Chase, I'm only here for a few more days," I whisper, my last-ditch attempt at the self-preservation tactics my mother taught me when I was eight. "Then what?"

"Then we better make them count." His voice drops to that low rumble that makes my stomach flip. "I'm not asking you to marry me, Piper. I'm asking you to have breakfast with me."

I stare into his warm hazel eyes, seeing genuine interest instead of the polite distance I'm used to from men my parents approve of.

This man wants me messy, wants me authentic, wants me exactly as I am in this moment. Hungover and wearing yesterday's dress and probably smelling like sex and regret.

"My parents would die if they knew I was even considering this."

"Good thing they're in Chicago then."

Before I can overthink it, before my perfectly trained nurse brain can list all the reasons this is a catastrophically bad idea, I say the word that make me feel more excitement than I've felt since… well, forever.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes. Breakfast. Public walk of shame. All of it." The words tumble out faster than I can stop them. "But I'm borrowing one of your flannels because I refuse to do the walk of shame in my dress. It's designer standard, and very expensive."

Chase grins and I melt a little more inside. "That's my girl."

His hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, and I hold my breath, caught in the intensity of his gaze.

For a moment, everything around us fades away—the rustic kitchen, the lingering scent of coffee, even the impending doom of a public walk of shame to Bear Paw Café.

It’s just him and me, standing on the precipice of something terrifyingly new and exhilarating.

He stares into my eyes, and for a split second, I’m sure I see something there. Something deeper than lust. Something that makes my heart beat a little faster.

But I’m quick to squash it, reminding myself that this is temporary. A holiday fling while I check on my best friend.

Nothing more.

Then he leans forward and kisses me.

It’s tender at first, a gentle brush of lips that sends a shiver down my spine. But then it deepens, turning hot and urgent. His hand curls around my waist, pulling me closer as his tongue teases mine.

I respond eagerly, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull his hard, naked body closer. My breath hitches as he presses me harder against the counter, his hands roaming down to grip my hips.

“Chase…” I murmur against his lips, but he swallows my words with another searing kiss.

“Yeah?” His voice is rough with desire as he trails kisses down my neck.

“We’re going to be late for breakfast.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against my skin as he bites down on my collarbone. “Are you really thinking about food right now?”

His eyes darken with want as he lifts me onto the counter effortlessly.

“No,” I admit breathlessly as he nudges my legs apart and steps between them. “But we should… you know. Make a move.”

“Fine.” He pulls back reluctantly and hands me one of his flannels from the back of a chair. “But you said you’d wear this.”

I slip it on, the fabric warm and smelling like him. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” he says with a grin that makes my heart skip a beat.

"Just so we're clear," I say, straightening his hair where my fingers messed it up, "this is definitely the worst decision I've ever made."

"Oh, baby…" Chase says, pressing one more kiss to my forehead, "we're just getting started."

I follow Chase out into the mountain air, his flannel drowning my dress.

Three days ago, I was Piper Whitman: perfect daughter, perfect nurse, perfectly miserable.

Now I'm someone who makes terrible decisions before breakfast.

And for the first time in my life, I can't wait to see what happens next.

Keeping reading here!