Burly and Rugged (The Men of Silver Pine Ridge #3)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

CODY

I finish stirring the pot of stew—nothing fancy, just a rehydrated MRE—but it’s hot, and it’ll keep us going. I hand Lindy a tin cup filled with it, and she takes it with both hands, exhaling as the warmth seeps through the metal.

“Not bad,” she says after the first bite.

I lift a brow. “That a compliment?”

“Shocking, I know,” she teases, taking another spoonful. “I was expecting something… I don’t know. Barely edible. Possibly squirrels.”

I chuckle. I like that Lindy has a sense of humor about this, though I can also see that she uses humor when she’s uncomfortable. She isn’t the kind of person I expected when we opened this program for adults, but she’s refreshing. “I save the squirrels for day three.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Good to know.” Then sunlight catches her dark blonde hair, and Lindy looks like magic. There’s more to her than her beautiful face and sinfully curvy body, but a deep humor and passion that makes me want her as more than a student in my survival course. I want to feel her sexy curves against my body, feel her hair brush against my face in bed, learn what makes her wiggle and giggle in bed.

Fuck. I really shouldn’t be having thoughts like this about Lindy. But dammit, how am I supposed to control my desire when she’s so fucking sexy?

We eat in silence for a few minutes, with only the crackle of the fire and the sound of the night settling onto the mountain. The wind has lessened, but the forest is never really quiet. Even as the light falls from the sky, there are still critters we can’t see and birds in the trees. Soon, the owls will be out. It’s not an uncomfortable silence with Lindy. Most people, especially the kids, are either chatterboxes or so exhausted they practically fall into the fire at the end of the first day.

“So,” I say as I stoke the fire. “Tell me about yourself.”

Her eyes flick up, and I see a wariness in them. “I’m a painter. I do occasional illustration work, but it’s mostly abstract paintings.”

“You work for yourself?”

Lindy nods, but her expression tightens. She crosses her arms over her chest, defensive. “I do. Is that surprising?”

From the sharp look in her eyes and the way she juts out her chin, I have the distinct sense of having walked into a minefield. It doesn’t take a shrink to see that she’s probably had a lot of people doubting her career choice.

“Only surprising because I’ve never met a working artist before. In the Army, there were a few guys who sketched in their downtime, but that’s the extent of me knowing anyone who makes art.” When she nods and drops her arms from her chest, I exhale deeply. Last thing I need is to start off by making her defensive and distrusting of me. That’s a recipe for disaster in the wilderness. Besides, why would I want to make a pretty lady mad? “You ever paint landscapes?”

“Sometimes. But I like abstracts more. I love taking a color palette and just seeing how it comes together. Most of what I do is what you would call intuitive painting—I might have some kind of idea of what I want to create, like with colors or shapes, but sometimes it’s just sitting down and seeing what happens.” Lindy’s eyes light up like stars as she talks about her work and she moves her hands animatedly. Her passion for art is obvious. “I paint a range of sizes, from large canvases to small watercolors. Some of my designs I sell online, which are printed onto products like art prints or journals, but I also show in local galleries occasionally.”

That makes me pause. “I didn’t know selling designs online was a thing. That’s impressive. It sounds like that keeps you pretty busy.”

“It does.” She smiles warmly at me and studies me across the campfire. “What about you?”

I shrug. I don’t like talking about myself. “Me? I’m not that interesting.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” The way she smiles at me, openly and full of interest, I’m not sure I can say no to this woman. “Well, let’s start with how you came to be a survival course leader?”

I set my empty cup aside. “I work with some guys up at Silver Pine Ridge, around The Lodge. We do various work on the mountain—Hank and his family run the Christmas tree farm in winter, and we build new cabins when they’re needed,” I say carefully. We’re not supposed to talk about the safe houses. “The survival courses are new. Most of the people I bring out are high-risk kids. They learn the basics of how to survive out here, which helps fuel their self-confidence. All of us up here were in the military, and we continue to serve our community, just in different ways than on a battlefield.”

“Interesting. What part of the military were you in?”

I lean back and extend my legs next to the fire, trying to ignore the twinge in my knee. “I was in the Army for a while. Got out a few years back. I wasn’t quite ready for civilian life,” I say, rubbing my knee, “but a buddy at the VA Center introduced me to Jax, and Jax invited me to join his team. So here I am.”

Her expression softens slightly. “What made you leave the Army?”

For a second, I consider telling her. Lindy’s blue eyes are filled with genuine curiosity, but no matter how easy it is to talk with her, that part of me shuts down.

“Something happened, and I got discharged.” I exhale, avoiding the truth. I wasn’t dishonorably discharged, but I still don’t like talking about it. Leaving the Army was a defining moment in my life, and I’m still not over the feelings surrounding it. “Silver Pine Ridge seemed as good a place as any to settle down.”

She’s quiet for a moment, stirring what’s left of her food. Then she looks up. “Do you miss it?”

“Some days.” I stare at the fire. My goal had always been to be a career Army man, serving and making my way up the ranks until I retired— if I retired. As far as my family can trace our history, the men have always served, usually in the Army. It’s family tradition. “But this isn’t a bad way to spend my time. I enjoy life up here.”

Lindy nods, her gaze flicking toward the trees. “That all makes sense.” She sets her cup aside, dusting her hands off on her thighs. “Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here? I know I’m probably not the type you expected to see.”

She’s not wrong. I’ve wondered, but people do a lot of things for a lot of reasons. Sometimes they tell you why, sometimes they don’t, but it’s always their story to tell. “I figured you’d get around to that in your own time.”

She leans forward and warms her hands by the fire. “It’s stupid, really. Someone told me I couldn’t do this. So I signed up.”

That makes me chuckle. I like a strong-minded woman who doesn’t back down from a challenge. “You make a habit of that?”

“Proving people wrong? Sometimes. I get tired of people underestimating me.” She keeps her hands close to the fire. “I’m here to prove to myself I can do it. It’s not like I’ll be reporting back to the jerk I was on a date with.”

A thread of anger sparks in me. I know what it’s like to have people doubt you, tell you that you can’t do something or won’t amount to much. And it makes me angry when men tell women they aren’t capable. We should be lifting women up, not diminishing them. I hope to hell she didn’t go on another date with that asshole, partly because she deserves better and mostly because she’s the first woman in a very long time to spark my interest. I’m too old for her, and she’s my student, but every minute with her makes me want more. I really want for her to be single.

I smile at Lindy, even more impressed with her. “Can’t decide if that’s stubborn or admirable.”

Without a second’s hesitation, she responds. “Both.” She laughs, giving me a smile that could light up all the stars in the sky. This woman is dangerous.

For a second, the air between us charges, and I’m certain she feels the same desire that I do. But then she blushes and looks away, and the moment seems to disappear.

“Okay. I’ll go back to the stream and rinse the dishes,” Lindy says, carefully avoiding my eyes as she collects everything and stands up.

“Whoa—shit!”

Lindy stumbles, metal cups clattering from her hands as her boot catches on a root. I’m immediately on my feet and rushing to Lindy. I reach out and pull her into my arms, catching her before she falls.

Her body collides with mine, her breath rushing out in a startled gasp. My fingers tighten instinctively, bracing her against me, but the impact does something else.

A sharp, unexpected bolt of desire hits me like lightning.

She blinks up at me, wide-eyed, her luscious breasts rising and falling against my chest. Her heart beats like thunder, and I’d like to think it’s not just because she almost fell.

“Sorry. That was clumsy of me,” she murmurs, but she doesn’t move.

I should let go. Step back. Say something to break the moment. But I can’t—I don’t want to. Because I see it.

The way her lips part. The way her fingers twitch slightly like she really does feel the same electricity I do. The way her eyes drop to my mouth and she bites her lip.

Heat coils in my cock, and I have to force myself not to react the way my body is screaming it wants to. My pulse is steady, but everything in me is wired too tight.

I release her, stepping back too quickly, forcing myself to hold my hands at my sides. Lindy sways slightly, catching herself, blinking like she’s trying to clear her head.

I clear my throat. “No problem. You good?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, her blue eyes bright. “Just—yeah.”

Her voice is breathy and her cheeks are filled with color that wasn’t there five seconds ago. She exhales sharply, crouching to pick up the cups. Her movements are quick. I should help, but I don’t trust myself not to lose control and pull her into my arms and lose myself in her.

I drag a hand over my jaw, exhaling through my nose, trying to get my head on straight.

“Don’t worry about the dishes,” I say, holding out my hands to take them from her. “I’ll take care of them. You should get some rest.”

She nods but doesn’t look at me as she turns toward her sleeping bag.

I watch her get settled in for the night, then head to the stream.

This is a problem. She’s too young, too sweet. She hired me to teach her about survival. What the hell am I thinking, letting desire get the best of me? It’s not like I haven’t been around beautiful women in my life…but none of them even come close to comparing to Lindy, and I barely know anything about her.

As I stare up at the dark sky, I know something for certain. Nothing should happen between us.

But it already has.

And I don’t want to stop it.