Page 27 of The CEO and the Mountain Man

In the meantime, a small bus pulled up to the main building.

“Wanna sit next to me?” Miguel asked as the driver opened the door.

“Uh, sure.”

River wasn’t smooth—this was unfortunately genetic—but he was a good-looking kid, and that seemed to cover for a lot of his natural awkwardness.

Miguel winked and held out his hand to help River up the steps into the modified school bus. River swallowed thickly, his eyes wandering over Miguel like each detail was a lost treasure. He finally remembered that he had a father when they found their seats, giving me a distracted wave.

The twins followed. Beau caught my eye and winked before he boarded behind them.

For a moment, I stood there, a little lost. Then remembered I had a painting to finish.

Chapter 8

Beau

For a guy in his mid-thirties, I thought I was in decent shape. That was until I went swimming with a bunch of teenagers. I swear, those kids were gonna be the death of me.

The first hour of pool time went beautifully. Everybody remembered their sunscreen and nobody drowned; it was great. Then we started playing water volleyball, which was fun until a couple of the local high school football players decided to make it competitive.

One of them hit the ball so hard that it smashed Cynthia in the face. The hit didn’t break her nose, thankfully, but she had a pretty good nosebleed from it, and now I’m going to have to explain to her parents why she’s got two black eyes after a day of swimming.

To his credit, the football player immediately apologized and brought Cynthia fresh ice for the rest of our time at the pool. Something told me I’d need to watch out for those two.

Speaking of needing to watch out, River and Miguel disappeared for a good twenty minutes before I saw them picking their way out of the wooded area, sneaking back into the pool.

Clark had certainly clocked the interest between the two boys right away, but explaining the hickeys on River’s neck was going to get awkward, fast.

I mean, I was pretty sure Clark was accepting of his son’s sexuality, but then that led down a rabbit hole of wondering whether Clark had ever considered his own sexuality.

Stop fantasizing about the hot dad, Beau.

Unrelated to my unruly hormones, Clark and River had been on my mind the last two nights. That accident had blown up their entire lives. River was still at the very beginning of his grief and had a lot to work through. I suspected that Clark, even though he seemed to be at peace with his divorce, wasn’t the kind of asshole who hated his ex so much that he was happy she was dead.

His was a different kind of grief. He grieved for what his son had lost.

I felt like an absolute shithead for this, but I found Clark’s deep empathy and decidedly uncool desire to genuinely connect with his sonso fucking hot.

I swear to God. Clark’s cute little shorts and yearning eyes werekillingme. I was not a good person.

Jake’d teased me about it at breakfast. He’d caught me looking for them, and when I asked him if they were joining us, he couldn’t help but chirp at me.

“I know you were hoping to ogle Clark’s calves, but they’re eating breakfast in their cabin.”

I mean, yes. I liked Clark’s wiry calves. Definitely a runner’s calves. They also made me wonder if he’d ever been rimmed.

He had to have had a college experience. At least a hand job, right?

Wow, Beau. Super,superinappropriate.

Those had been the thoughts swirling in my head as I’d walked to the barn this morning and …Jesus.

Clark and River were standing by the barn, chatting with Miguel. Clark looked like he’d just come from an activewear model shoot. The long-sleeved rash guard highlighted his trim, strong figure, and those shorts were a gift from the gods.

His ass was a work of art.

The hiking boots and calves situation was straight up pornographic as far as I was concerned.