Loving A Mountain Man (Spring's Mountain Men)

I make my way to the girl, staying out of sight of the bear. Her eyes widen as I step into her line of sight. I put a finger up to my lips, and she nods wildly. Her tear-stained face is wild and weary. She’s dirty but still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

With my gun slung over my back, I set my ax down and lift her over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry, opposite the side my gun barrel is on. I feel her go limp on my shoulder, and I know that she’s passed out.

Poor lass. Why does she have to be so beautiful? Why does she feel so right in my arms? I get her into the house and into my bed. I don't like how still she is, how dirty and chilled her skin is. Everything in me tells me that she needs protection. That she needs me just as much as I need her. In the absence of anything to do, I settle in to watch her sleep, like a creepy fuck.

Chapter Two

Raleigh Jones

Floating. I feel like I’m floating. Or maybe flying. My mind flashes. I’m leaving the hotel, ready to go hiking, but like a dumbass, I didn’t want to wait for my parents or my siblings. No, my big bad self is eighteen now. I didn’t need mommy and daddy to protect me. How wrong was I? I left my phone in my room, something I never thought I could do. That thing is in my hand from the time I wake up until the time I go to sleep. Hell, who am I kidding? Sometimes I wake up with the damn thing clutched in my hand. I took off like a bat out of hell wearing clothes better suited to the gym: a tank top, yoga pants, and the Under Armour sneakers I just had to buy but have never worn. I barely got going on the trail, and my feet were already killing me. I had every intention of sticking to the trail, but I took a fall and rolled down a short cliff-like thing and got turned around. I never found the trail again. I lost all track of time and direction. I don’t even know what day it is. Who does that? That’s right, the not-so-bright one of the two Jones sisters: Raleigh. The last thing I remember is getting myself trapped by a bear and then a giant, ax-wielding man finding me. Oh, shit! Where am I?

Did I die? Did I get eaten by that bear? Did the ax-wielder turn out to be a psycho? Did he kill me? I don’t feel dead, thankfully. I'm warm, but everything, and I do mean everything hurts. After opening my eyes, I shut them again and groan. The room is too bright.

"Och. Ye alright, lass?" A gruff voice with a Scottish accent says, making me jump. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be near me, but his voice feathers over my skin like a caress. He’s close.

I open my eyes again, and a giant stares back at me—a really sexy giant. The room isn’t as brightly lit as I first thought now that my eyes have adjusted.

“I’m fine,” I say, sitting up. I hold back both a wince and a groan. My body is sore, and I don’t know why.

“Ye sure about that?

“Yeah, I’m sure. You’re bleeding. Did you know that?” I ask, reaching my hand out and touching his bloodied cheek. There is something primal awakening in me at the mere thought that he sustained these cuts protecting me. Saving me. This beast of a man saved me. How can I ever thank him?

“Tis nowt but a scratch. Don’t be worried about me. Are you sure you're okay?” he asks again. His concern for me touches something in me. Oh, my God, his accent. His voice, period. He could read me the phone book, and I’d combust.

“I’m fine, I promise. I’m Raleigh.”

“Like the city?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow at me. I stare at his face. It’s hard, but when he looks at me, it softens just a little bit. I can see the pulse in his neck throbbing, and I know mine is doing the exact same thing.

“Yep. just like. My parents are oversharers. I was conceived there.” He chuckles. It sounds like he doesn’t do that very often. Suddenly, I have a need to make him do that all the time.

“That is certainly some terrifying information to know about your parents.”

“Isn’t it? Do you have a name?” I ask. I want to know what to call him in my dreams. I feel like I am on fire right now. My hand is still resting on his cheek, but neither of us makes any moves to change that.

“Padruig, but everyone just calls me Plaid.”