Page 15 of Consumed By The Forbidden Mountain Man

Patty laughs so hard she grabs my arm. "Oh, I like you. Reid, I like her."

Reid, standing four feet away pretending to examine a corn hole scoreboard, says nothing.

We walk back to the cabins as the sun drops. The air is cold enough to see our breath. October in the mountains turns sharp fast, and I'm underdressed. Again. The denim jacket isn't cutting it.

Halfway up the path, he shrugs out of his jacket. Canvas, lined, warm from his body. Drops it over my shoulders without slowing down.

"I'm fine."

"You're shivering."

"I'm fine and shivering. Both can be true."

He doesn't take it back. The jacket smells like sawdust. It swallows me. I pull it tighter.

We reach the clearing between cabins. His porch light is on. So is mine, because I started leaving it on three days ago.

"Thanks for the jacket." I start to pull it off.

"Keep it tonight. It's gonna get colder."

"Reid."

"What."

We're standing between the pines. Three feet apart. The light from both porches cuts through the trees, catching the silver at his temples. His jaw is set. He's looking at me the way he looked at me at the bonfire. Controlled. Deliberate. Like he's running calculations on how many reasons he has to walk away.

"The bonfire," I say.

His jaw tightens. "Ivy."

"We were going to kiss."

"I know."

"Tony texted."

"I know."

"Tony's not here right now."

Quiet. The pines shifting overhead. My heart hammering so hard he can probably hear it.

"You're my best friend's sister."

"I'm aware."

"You're twelve years younger than me."

"Also aware."

"You're here for two weeks. You're going through something. And I promised your brother I'd look out for you."

"Okay." I take one step closer. His breathing changes. "And you also almost kissed me at a bonfire in front of the entire town. So maybe your reasons aren't as solid as you think they are."

His hands come out of his pockets. One of them catches the lapel of the jacket I'm wearing. His jacket. His fingers close on the canvas, and he pulls. Slow. Steady. Closing the distance between us until I'm right against his chest.

"This is a bad idea," he says. Low. Rough. Looking at my mouth.