MOUNTAIN MEN OF PINEVILLE

First Look - MOUNTAIN MAN SAVIOR

(Fun fact, Lauren is one of Taya Davis' daughters from Tangling with the Mountain Man where she and Beck get their HEA ❤️)

(please note: this peek has not gone through the final proofread before publication so please forgive any typos!)

LAUREN

“Rain, rain go away. Come again some other day.” I chanted in the hopes the sky would quit dumping buckets of water. But the further I drove up Pineville Mountain, the rain began blowing sideways. Yeah, a north Idaho special had dropped in.

And to top off the cluster I found myself in, a flash of lightning, followed almost instantly by a crack of thunder, made me jumpier than a cat in its eighth life. Okay, so maybe my decision to drive the catering van instead of my SUV for this meeting hadn’t been my best idea.

Appearing professional mattered even if nerves had me biting my nails. My mom had put her faith into me after I received my business management degree and handed over the reins of the business last fall. Proving I can handle negotiating a contract to provide the Triple R Lodge with meals for their guests had been all I could think about for a week.

Unfortunately, the van didn’t have four-wheel drive. But I thought our newly wrapped logo on the early 2000s vehicle, which we needed to replace soon, would be a good selling point. If Full Plate Catering snagged this contract for the soon to-be-open retreat for former military personnel and first responders, it would be a boon to our business and fulfill a request from my stepdad, Beckett, to work with veteran owned businesses.

Knowing I should have checked the weather like a good north Idaho resident, and doing were two separate brain functions, but if I had, I would have known that my future was to include mud. Lots of mud.

According to my mother, stubborn is my middle name, unlike my twin Dylan who followed every printed direction, posted rule, and most of the unwritten ones only hyper self-aware people seemed to be tapped into. Which made her recent decision to thumb her nose at all of her well-laid plans and just before our twenty-sixth birthday, she went off on a “self-discovery” mission.

Lord, I missed her. The twin connection was real. We’d never been separated for more than a week, and texting once a week wasn’t cutting it.

One wiper flew off, bringing me back to reality. The other one valiantly tried to keep up with the pouring water. The decision to turn around came too late as a rush of debris filled water rushed at the van from the bend up ahead. Panic took over and going against everything I’ve learned about defensive driving; I slammed on the brakes, causing the van to fishtail.

With shaking arms, I fought to stay in my lane. A scream lodges in my throat, then chills spread through me as the right front wheel dips, then sinks into the soaked soil. Rocking to a violent stop, the van was now half in, half out of the culvert.

Fumbling for my cell, I pray I had service this far up the mountain. Pausing, I take in several deep breaths until I no longer feel like I had a peach pit in my stomach. But the calm didn’t last as I looked down.

No service. I thought that the new cell tower on the peak was up and running? Dammit.

The rain didn’t show any signs of ending and from what I can see through my windshield, the road is no longer visible beneath what I hope is only a couple of inches of water.

Do I ride this out until the conditions improve? Or do I try to hike the rest of the way? Yeah, not in these shoes. Darn it why’d I go for cute instead of functional?

Decision made, I put the van in drive, thinking I could power it out, when a shadow catches my eye. I scream as a large hand pounds on the driver’s side window. Shouts rang out, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. Placing a hand over my beating heart, I push the button to lower the window. I’m immediately drenched. Spitting water, I sputter out a gargled response, not that it made any sense.

“What the hell are you doing? Get out now!” The man’s full-throated command rolled through me. A full body shiver chased away the fear laced chills as I rapidly blinked to clear my vision to make out the owner of that panty-melting voice.

But it’s no use. The man standing outside my car wasn’t some sleep deprived hallucination nor was he a knight, or prince charming there to rescue me. Barking another order, water dripped from his trucker hat, a deep frown now locked on his chiseled face.

Dazed, I clocked his broad shoulders, beefy arms, and his biceps straining against the soaked black t-shirt which outlined every muscle on his wide chest. I may have drooled. Just a bit. And he had the darkest brown eyes, almost black, that I’d ever seen. Eyes that were now narrowed and filled with disbelief and frustration. Releasing a sigh, I was so out of my element, both with the weather and him. All I could do was nod. The movement made me wince. Had I hit my head when I slammed on the brakes?

“Do you understand me? The van is going to get swept away. Out, now!”

Looking beyond him, the water that I’d thought was just a couple of inches had now risen and flowing faster than before. “I do, yes.” Struggling to release my seat belt, the mountain man, because of course that’s what he is, reaches through the window to help me with my seatbelt. Once it’s free, he backs up and yanks my door open.

For a moment I felt like I was watching a movie as he stabs the window switch to go back up, leans across me, then grabs and dumps my purse into my hands. He then tugs me out of the car, makes sure my feet are flat on the ground, then pushes me back a step.

“Hey. I’m not totally helpless, you know.” But I’m speaking to his broad back as he snags the keys, slams the door, and with a disbelieving snort as he glares at my sandals, lifts me up and carries me to his truck. “Wait, I’ve got food in the back. I need it for a meeting.”

“No time. It can be replaced. You can’t.”

I should complain loudly at his manhandling, but the feel of his large hands on me has ignited nerve endings I had no clue were connected to my body’s erogenous zones. Whoa, how had I never once experience…this?

Up close and personal, I take several deep gulps of air then get hit with a nose full of man. Notes of freshly cut wood and musk. His scent wrapped around me, calming me, and all I can do is hold on tight as he jogs to his truck parked behind the van. After he opens the passenger door and sets me down gently on the bench seat, I no longer feel like I’m a spectator in my rescue.

How could I when my body was rioting from his touch, his smoldering gaze as he ran it all over my body looking for something? An injury? Or did he like what he saw? I knew men with a taste for a curvier woman were out there. I’d dated a few, but why was I suddenly wishing as if I’d just been handed a magic bottle with a genie in it, that this man liked what he saw?

Because I certainly liked what I was seeing, despite his intense scrutiny. His entire length, a good bit over six feet, is beyond rain soaked. He’s drenched, and I found it incredibly sexy. His long legs were encased in tight-fitting jeans. And I couldn’t help but notice how the denim was molded over his heavily muscled thighs as he straightened. Then, of course, my gaze zeroes in on his zipper. Because of course it does, and I’m no shrinking violet when it comes to admiring a man physically. And oh my. My mind didn’t have far to go in wondering what was hidden behind the denim in its, ahem, natural state. He was big there too.

Heat flushes my face, and I need to do something, say something, so he doesn’t notice me slobbering over his hot body.

Several things happened at once. I manage to say, “Thank you.” With water running down my face, instead of wiping it away, I shake my head, then let out a loud sneeze. What I hadn’t counted on was spraying water and my germs all over his face.

Mouth hanging open like an idiot, my whole body shakes as I watch him wipe his face. “Sorry.” I say between shivers. Holding back a giggle as more rain replaces what I’d just sprayed on him, he gives me a sexy smirk, shuts the door. He rounds the front of the truck, gets in to the still running truck and peels out. “Hold on.” Another gruff command.

My savior raced up the mountain road like the devil himself was after us. And my good sense returns in a flash. I didn’t know this man. He could be one of those reclusive hermits the mountains were known for. Someone who swore off human connection, or worse. But somehow, I didn’t think so. The magnetic pull of his gaze when I lowered my window told me differently. In the microsecond between panic and action, I was filled with a burning, instant awareness that he was a protector, and special.

“Th-th-thank you. I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“Because you weren’t?” His gruff voice and harsh words rang through the truck cab. But it did little to diminish the rising awareness I felt for him. “Lady, I’m not sure if you realize the severity of the situation. You were this close,” he pinches his thumb and forefinger together until they’re barely touching, “to becoming a statistic. If we weren’t so close to the lodge, I’d be taking you back to town.”

Sure, I may deserve to have my choices questioned because of the current road conditions, but I did not deserve to be lectured to like a teenager out on their first drive. But this wasn’t the time to argue. I began rubbing my arms to ward off the continued chill racking my body as it threatened to turn into hypothermia.

“Well, sorry for being a bother.” My teeth chattered between each word. His tone doused my growing attraction. A good thing because right now, I couldn't care less about the neighborly niceties our area was known for. I voted for surviving this debacle without getting pneumonia over manners. “Is there a blanket or something I could use?”

Reaching into the backseat, he snagged a bag and tossed it onto my lap. “There’s a towel in there.”

Swearing under his breath, he hit the dials and switches on the truck’s dashboard. His large hand hovering over the vent until blessed warm air filled the cab. He tossed his hat into the backseat, then turned toward me, and I got my first full-on look at his features. Eyes still narrowed, a frown that hadn’t changed and thinned out lips that did nothing to take away from his rugged good looks.

And darn it, as I sat there soaked to the bone, a new growing need grew. To find out how his lips would feel against mine. Lips that I’d glimpsed when he wasn’t frowning, were full and soft looking. Maybe the only soft spot on his hard body. I snapped my gaze forward to stare out the windshield. Where had that thought come from?

Sure, he could be a serial killer or felon in hiding. And yeah, maybe I’d been watching too many true crime shows. Criminal or not, he was devastatingly handsome. With another quick sideways glance at all those muscles outlined by his still drenched t-shirt had me thinking otherwise. Alright hoping. Call it intuition or whatever, I sensed he had nothing but good intentions underneath all his bluster. And I had a feeling once he smiled, if he smiled, I’d be a goner.

Clearing his throat broke the spell we’d both had weirdly fallen under. “The heater will get you warm, but you also need to get dry, and then you can explain why you’re on my mountain all alone after nightfall.”

Don’t think I didn’t hear him refer to the mountain as his. Who own’s a mountain? Someone’s a bit territorial. I know for a fact no one owns Pineville Mountain. My mom and stepdad’s place is lower on the mountain, and they pay taxes to the city, just like everyone else.

I used the towel to wring out as much water from my hair as I could, but it’s not large enough to do much good for my clothes. Still shivering, I manage to speak without too much trouble now that the cab had warmed.

“I appreciate your help. But I have a meeting with Ridge Beauchamp at the Triple R Lodge. If you could drop me off, then I won’t be your problem anymore. I’ll call a tow service for help with the van. Sorry I inconvenienced you. I’d be happy to pay for a tank of gas for helping me out, so kindly.” I can’t remember the last time I’d sounded so, as my grandmother called it, snippy.

Maybe I shouldn’t have antagonized him, but really, he’d asked for it by calling me lady, his tone well, snippy. Ugh, why couldn’t he have been one of those old, grizzled mountain men? I mean, how unlucky was I to be rescued by someone who looked down right lickable even drenched to the bone, while I more than likely looked like a drowned rat?

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