CHAPTER FOUR
LOGAN
That kiss haunted me for the rest of the hike.
I could still taste her on my lips, still feel the way she’d melted against me, soft and warm and willing. The memory of her small moan kept replaying in my head, making it damn near impossible to focus on my clients. Hell, made it difficult to walk.
“You two make such a cute couple,” Mrs. Henderson said as we reached the summit lookout. Her husband nodded in agreement.
“We’re not—” I started, but Samantha cut me off.
“Thank you,” she said brightly, throwing me a look that clearly said ‘play nice.’ “We’re still figuring things out.”
Figuring things out. Right. Like how I was going to survive the rest of this hike without doing something stupid. Like pushing her up against the nearest tree and finishing what that kiss had started.
It had been years since I’d wanted anyone this much. Before, relationships were based on how many zeros were in my bank account. They had been too complicated, too messy. I’d come to Lone Mountain seeking solitude. Then Samantha showed up on my doorstep and shattered that peace with one smile.
The rest of the hike was torture. Every time she stumbled, I had to catch her. Every time she laughed at her own clumsiness, the sound went straight to my gut. And every time she bent over to adjust her hiking boots, I had to look away before I embarrassed myself.
“You’re a natural with people,” she said as we headed back down. The Hendersons were a few yards ahead, giving us the illusion of privacy. “Even if you try to hide it behind all that grumpiness.”
“I’m not grumpy.”
She grinned. “Sure you’re not, sunshine.”
The nickname should have irritated me. Instead, it made something warm unfurl in my chest. Dangerous. This whole situation was dangerous.
I thought about Ethan, about his meddling. Even though he’d packed up and moved back to Lone Mountain with me, he was always pushing me to find someone, never understanding that I wasn’t hiding from life—I was building one that made sense to me. But looking at Samantha, watching her charm my clients with her easy smile and quick wit, I wondered if maybe he knew what he was talking about. Not that he was following his own advice.
My last relationship had ended badly. She hadn’t understood why I’d wanted to give up the whirlwind lifestyle and live on a mountain. She didn’t understand that had never been me. That the lifestyle had been forced on me because of our success. Out here, leading tours, teaching people to survive in the wilderness—it felt more real than anything I’d done before.
Even after dropping the Hendersons back at their car, I couldn’t shake the memory of how Samantha had tasted. I was distracted, replaying every second. Wanting more.
“You should see the mountain at night,” I found myself saying as we walked back to the cabin. “The stars up here... they’re something else.”
Her eyes lit up. “Show me?”
I shouldn’t. Having her in my cabin was dangerous enough. Taking her camping, sharing a tent... It was a terrible idea, but her teasing smile made it hard to remember why. “You don’t have the right gear.”
“So? Share yours.” She bumped her shoulder against my arm. “Unless you’re scared, mountain man?”
Scared wasn’t the word. Tempted. Desperate. Fighting a losing battle with my self-control.
“Fine,” I growled, giving in. “But we’re doing this properly. You follow my instructions. The mountain’s different at night.”
She gave me a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
Twenty minutes later, I was packing the last of the gear while Samantha changed in the bathroom. I’d given her my spare thermal layers, trying not to think about her wearing my clothes. Or me taking them off.
“How do I look?”
Well, fuck.
She stood there, my oversized clothing swallowing her curvy frame. The sleeves fell past her hands, and she’d had to roll up the pants. She looked soft, touchable, and completely off-limits.
“You’ll do,” I managed.
The hike up took longer than usual. Not because Samantha was slow—though she did need help over some of the rougher terrain—but because she kept stopping to look at everything. Every wildflower, every view of the valley below had her full attention.
“This is incredible,” she said for the hundredth time as we reached my favorite camping spot. The sun was just starting to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
I knew what she meant. Lone Mountain had a kind of presence that was difficult to explain. “Wait till you see the stars.”
Setting up camp was an exercise in torture. Every time she bent over to help with the tent, every time she brushed against me as we worked, my body reminded me exactly how long it had been since I’d touched a woman. Since I’d wanted to.
Once the tent was up and secured, I took out a mat and laid it on the tent floor. Next, the sleeping bag.
“Only one sleeping bag?” she asked, watching me unroll it.
I didn’t want to admit why I’d brought only one. I had a spare. Backups for backups. But I’d wanted to hold Samantha in my arms, feel her soft body next to mine just once.
Just once? The sound through the pines seemed to taunt me. From the moment I’d opened my door, I knew I’d let her in. But the question was, did she want to be let in? “We’ll need to share body heat—nights up here can still get cold.”
She bit her lip, and I could see her trying not to smile. “Share body heat, you mean?”
“It’s basic survival. Nothing more.”
“Of course.” Damn, her smile. “Purely practical.”
She insisted I walk her through everything, and she was a fast learner. When she started the fire with very little help from me, she threw her arms around my neck in a spontaneous celebration.
That’s when my control snapped. Her body pressed against mine, her laughter warm against my ear, and suddenly I wasn’t thinking anymore. I was feeling, something I hadn’t done in a very long time.
“Samantha,” I warned, my hands settled on her hips, unsure whether I was pulling her closer or holding her at bay. She’d come here thinking it was the start of something. And maybe it was, I couldn’t help but think.
“Logan,” she mimicked my tone, but her eyes were serious. “Stop fighting this. Stop fighting us.”
“There is no us.” The words were hollow. “You’re only here because my brother—”
“I’m here because I want to be.” She slid her hands into my hair. “Yes, Ethan’s interference got me here, but everything since then? That’s been real. You feel it too. I know you do.”
I should have pushed her away. Should have maintained the distance I’d spent years building. Instead, I kissed her.
The kiss was inevitable. Like gravity, like the tide, like every natural force that had shaped this mountain. Was still shaping it. She tasted like the wild berries we’d found on the trail, sweet and tart and addictive. Her curves fit against my angles perfectly, like she was made for me. I didn’t want the kiss to end, but I knew this was moving too fast. I was letting myself get in too deep.
Or was I?
“If you don’t want this,” I said, my voice rough, “tell me now.”
Her answer was to pull me closer, her hands tugging at my jacket zipper. “Of course I want this.”
That was all the permission I needed. I picked her up and carried her to the tent. We shed our outer layers quickly. Her breath hitched as I knelt before her, sliding off her boots. My hands lingered on her thighs. I leaned forward, taking in her scent. “Logan,” she whispered.
I didn’t answer but stood up and took off my boots. Next, I tugged off my thermal shirt, then my t-shirt, watching as her eyes roamed over my bare chest.
She grinned. “Mmm, I guess skin-to-skin contact is the way to stay warm.”
“Your turn.’ My voice was husky. Commanding.
She peeled off her borrowed clothing to reveal soft, pale skin that glowed in the dim light. She reached behind her back, undoing her bra and letting it drop to the ground. Her nipples were hard, and I couldn’t stop myself from leaning down to take one into my mouth, my tongue tracing circles that made her arch against me.
Her breath hitched as my hands roamed lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her leggings.
“Fuck.” My fingers grazed the smooth, bare skin where her underwear should have been.
I knew what I wanted to do. Strip her naked, plunge into her warm depths and forget about everything else. But that was for another night. Tonight was about getting closer. Connecting.
But that didn’t mean we couldn’t do something.
I leaned over, kissing her neck, my lips grazing the curve where her pulse raced before I stripped her of her remaining clothing. When I went to pick her up, she stopped me, her fingers on the waistband of my pants.
“Wait, what about you?”
I shook my head. “No. Tonight is about you, baby.” I picked her up again, placing her on the sleeping bag. My big body covered hers. Her breath hitched as my hand moved between her legs, brushing against the slick heat there.
“Logan...” she started, but her voice faltered when my fingers slid over her folds, spreading the wetness that had already gathered.
“Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”
She let out a small, breathless laugh, her fingers digging into my shoulders. “You make me this way.”
The admission sent a jolt through me. My fingers moved with purpose, circling her clit gently at first, then applying more pressure when her hips bucked against my hand. The soft noises she made—half-moan, half-whimper—were enough to undo me.
“Do you want to come, baby?”
“Yes, oh, yes.” Her eyes were bright, her lips parted as she nodded. “Don’t stop.”
I didn’t plan to. My fingers dipped lower, sliding easily through her wetness before teasing her entrance. She gasped, her head falling back as I slipped one finger inside.
“God, you’re so tight.” The words slipped out unbidden. “So perfect.”
“Logan...” Her voice was barely a whisper, her fingers dug into my shoulders as I added a second finger, stretching her slowly. Her pussy clenched around me, her hips rocking against my hand as if she couldn’t get enough.
I kept my movements steady, my thumb circling her clit in time with the thrusts of my fingers. She was drenched, her wetness coating my hand, and it only made me want to give her more.
“That’s it, Samantha. Come all over my hand, baby.” My voice was rough.
Her body trembled, her breath catching in her throat as she reached the edge. When she came, it was with a cry, her thighs squeezing around my hand, her pussy pulsing as waves of pleasure rippled through her. I watched her face, captivated by her features, male satisfaction that I’d given her that traveling through me.
When she finally stilled, I grabbed the top of the sleeping bag and wrapped her in it. She smiled, her cheeks still flushed as she curled into me. “I didn’t know it could feel like that,” she admitted, her voice tinged with wonder.
I kissed her temple, pulling the sleeping bag around us. “There’s a lot I want to show you, Samantha. But we’ve got time.”
She sighed contentedly, her body relaxing against mine as we settled into the quiet intimacy of the night. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees. She snuggled closer, tucking her head under my chin. Her curves molded against me, soft and warm, stirring a hunger I had never felt before.
“Logan?” she murmured, already half asleep.
“Hmm?”
“Next time can I see the stars in the sky?”
I laughed softly, a sound and feeling that was far too foreign to me. I tightened my arms around her. “Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”
As Samantha’s breathing evened out into sleep, I realized something. I was falling for my mail-order bride.