Page 82 of Beastly Mountain Man

“It wouldn’t be fine with somebody I loved.”

My heart gave one hard beat.

Lucky didn’t seem interested in pretending he hadn’t said it.

Neither was I.

“I like being useful,” he said. “I just don’t want usefulness to be the only reason somebody wants me around.”

“It isn’t.”

The answer came before I could shape it into anything safer.

Lucky’s gaze held mine.

I reached up and touched his beard.

“I like the way you think. I like that you chose this place because it suits you instead of because you were afraid to leave. I like your family photos. I like that you can sit in silence without acting as though something has gone wrong.”

His mouth started to curve.

“And,” I added, “your sexual skill set has made a very strong supporting argument.”

He laughed, full and warm, and pulled me onto his lap.

“That was almost romantic.”

“I was being extremely romantic.”

“You were doing great until the supporting argument.”

“I believe in comprehensive evaluation.”

Lucky kissed me.

The humor stayed in it for the first few seconds.

Then his palm moved beneath the back of my sweater and the kiss deepened, slower than the shower, slower than the night before.

I slid my fingers into his hair.

When we finally separated, I stayed across his lap.

“My job isn’t going away.”

“Good.”

The speed of his answer surprised me.

“You didn’t even hesitate.”

“Why would I?”

“Because my job is the reason I live in Missoula. It’s the reason I travel. It’s the reason I can’t promise I’ll be on this mountain every night at six.”

Lucky’s hands rested comfortably at my waist.

“I knew what you did before I kissed you.”