“Excuse me?”
four
Journee
“Excuse me?” The huge,sexy mountain man asks, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Which, to be honest, maybe I have.
“I’d like to buy your cabin. I’m willing to pay whatever you want for it.” I hold my breath waiting for his answer.
“What if it’s not money I want?” His reply catches me off guard.
How far am I willing to go to get this cabin?
Deciding to call his bluff, I scoot closer to him until our knees are touching and say, “I’ll give you whatever you want.” I’ve never played the seductress before, but the way his eyes widen and his nostrils flare, I know I’m affecting him. “What do you have in mind?” I say pressing my luck.
“Get dressed.” He stands so quickly that I lean back in surprise, helplessly staring up at him as he hovers over me. I don’t hate it, unlike how I felt whenever Edward was near me. “I’ll make us some breakfast, then we can talk about how far you’re willing to go for this place.” His heated stare burns into me, sending an intense throbbing between my legs, like when I read the sex scenes in Jenna’s romance novels.
He’s so big and muscular, unlike Edward. Just being this close to True makes me want to curl up in his lap and run my fingers through the crisp brown chest hair peeking out of his shirt. I bet it’s thick and soft, just like the Three Bears—just like Papa Bear.
“O-okay.” I stutter, still thinking about touching his chest. “I’ll be right out.”
He continues to stand over me, and I can’t help but think he wants to stay and watch me change my clothes, which causes an even stronger pulse between my thighs.
What is wrong with me? I’ve only just met True, and I’m already imagining things I shouldn’t be imagining him doing to me. Damn Jenna’s romance novels.
With a nod, he walks out of the bedroom, leaving me with my fantasies of him running through my body.
I change quickly, taking extra care to comb my hair until my curls shine, and grab the sexiest outfit I packed—a pair of denim cut-off shorts that show off my wide hips and tiny waist, and a tight T-shirt that hugs my breasts. Before leaving the bedroom, I say a silent prayer that this sexy mountain man likes curvy women like me.
five
True
Fuck.
I can’t believe I found a curvy little Goddess asleep in my bed and basically told her to have sex with me in exchange for my cabin.
Real smooth, True.
This is exactly why I don’t date—I’m not good around women. I need to end this little game, drive her into town, and forget I ever laid eyes on her.
Yeah, right, like I could ever forget her face or body—they’re burned into my brain forever.
I busy myself laying out the supplies to make French toast, making a mental note of the groceries I’m running low on. A strange sense of pride rushes through me at the thought of Journee eating the food I had in the refrigerator and cabinets—like I’m her man and I provided for her.
The griddle sizzles as I place the egg-coated bread on it, pulling me out of my fantasy of Journee living here in the cabin with me as we raise a family.
“Hmm, that smells good.” Journee steps into the room wearing next to nothing. Those short shorts are going to be the death of me. “My sister and I love breakfast for any meal of the day.” She takes a seat at the kitchen table thankfully hiding her lower half from my view.
Her comment about having a sister gives me the opening I was looking for to ask about her life. “How exactly did you end up in my cabin? Are you visiting family or friends? Maybe a husband or a boyfriend?” The last question comes out as a growl as I think about my woman having a boyfriend or a husband.
“No boyfriend or husband.” I sigh in relief, knowing she isn’t taken. “A fiancé, though.” She adds, and I see red, slamming the plate of French toast on the table, making her jump.
“Sorry,” I mumble, taking the seat across from her, as I think about her future husband who she plans to move into my cabin after she buys it.
Like hell I’ll ever let that happen. I pick up the maple syrup, heavily coat my French toast, and wait for her to continue.
“My wedding day was ten days ago, but I ran.” She glances down at her French toast, pushing a piece through the syrup on her plate, avoiding my gaze, almost as if she’s ashamed to admit it. “I realized I didn’t love my fiancé—I barely knew him. When it came time to marry him, I ran from the church and ended up here. I saw your note on the door, and since it was unlocked, I let myself in and have been here ever since.” She lifts her chin defiantly, silently challenging me to question her reason for running from her groom, when I couldn’t be happier with the turn of events.
