“Um. I came here and–ugh.” A flash of pain streaks from temple to temple.
“Easy.” His tone is gentle even though he looks annoyed. With his wild beard and intense stare, he has Resting Badass face. I’m finding it hard to catch my breath.
Or maybe it's his delicious scent and the proximity of all those muscles ready to burst out of the overworked fabric of his t-shirt. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date. I haven't had much time. After my parent’s death, I threw myself into my business and brand. And now, I have no defenses against hot guys.
That's it. I'm just overwhelmed by all the muscly handsomeness of this modern day mountain Viking.
He's searching my face with those beautiful eyes of his.
“How did I get here?” I ask.
“You took a fall up on the mountain, and I carried you. What do you remember?” he repeats. It feels a little like interrogation.
“My head hurts,” I mumble, which is the truth.
Abruptly he stands. I flinch backward at the sudden movement and his sheer size, and he rests his big hand on my shoulder.
“It's okay. I'm just getting you some water.”
Now that he’s mentioned it, my mouth is parched. I lick my cracked lips and look around for my pink hiking pack. My trusty lip gloss is never far from my reach. “Excuse me,” I call to the Viking. “Do you have my things?”
“Yep.” He re-enters the bedroom with a glass of water in one hand and my pink pack in the other. “This pack would be impossible to miss. Surprised you're not blinded by that color,” he grunts, handing me my bag.
“Pink is my favorite color.” I dig around and find my phone. The screen has gone black and the glass is cracked. Oh well. First things first. I pull out my lip gloss and apply it twice, smacking my lips. When I look up, the Viking is staring at my lips with a look of hunger, making all the blood in my body rush to my face.
“Thanks.” I gulp down the water he hands me to hide my fluster. In my haste, I spill some on my chest and have to brush the droplets off my boobs before it soaks in. My nipples are so hard, they poke through three layers of clothing. Stop it, I tell them. This is not a wet t-shirt contest.
Is it too much to hope the Viking did not see this? I sneak a look.
Yes, yes it is. He saw everything.
I take another sip of water and spill it on myself again. “I have a drinking problem,” I quip. “Don’t mind me.”
The Viking clears his throat and jerks his gaze away. “What’s your name?” he asks.
I stiffen. “How did you say I got here?”
“Easy,” he says in a soothing voice. “You’re safe. I found you on the trail. You were hurt.” He motions to my forehead. “You hit your head.”
I touch the bandage, hating how weak I feel. I should be wary of waking up in a strange place with a strange person, even if my instincts say I can trust this Viking. Or at least jump him. Maybe it’s not my instincts talking, it’s my hormones.
“Did you see my stepbrother? He was hiking with me.”
He hesitates before saying, “No.”
“That's odd.” There’s something I need to remember, but it’s all hazy, hidden behind a wall of pain. “I’m Lana.”
“Lana? I’m Teddy.”
“OMG.” I drop my hand and grin at him. “Teddy? Like Teddy Bear?”
My smile seems to fluster him. “Teddy Medvedev, actually. Did you just say OMG out loud?”
“Oh…um, yeah.” My nervousness has dropped away, leaving me giddy. This is the guy who picked out the curtains. I didn’t expect a sexy mountain man, but anyone who decorates with cute little bears is automatically a friend. “This is your cabin.”
“Yes.” He watches me warily. “I brought you here because you weren’t waking up. I figured you needed rest. I got a doctor to check you out–”
“You did?”
“Yeah. He bandaged your head but said to let you rest.”
“I can’t believe I slept through all that. Um, thanks for all the help.”
“Of course.” He’s still studying me like he wishes he could see my thoughts. “Where are you from, Lana?”
I like the way he says my name. “I live in L.A. I came here to hike to the summit and scatter my parents’ ashes. See?” I proffer my trail mix as proof.
He peers into the bag. “Almonds and M&M's.” His tone holds a question.
“My patented blend,” I say. “No, seriously, I'm thinking of patenting it. I could sell it in stores. I bet it would fly off the shelves.”
Unlike Bentley, Teddy doesn’t scoff. He reaches in, takes out a handful and chomps on it thoughtfully. “It's good.”
“See?” I beam at him. “I told you.”
He takes another handful. “Do you remember anything else about your hike?”