Jake (Heart River Valley: Montana Protectors #1)

Chapter 8

Elena

I 'm barely awake, still wrapped in memories of last night under the Northern Lights with Jake, when my bedroom door bursts open. Rachel and Isabella practically tumble in, both still in their pajamas and clutching coffee mugs.

“Rise and shine, you little minx!” Rachel announces, flopping onto my bed while Isabella perches cross-legged at the foot.

“How do you two have this much energy at—” I squint at my phone, “—six in the morning?”

“Please, Tony thinks 4 AM meetings are normal business hours,” Isabella rolls her eyes. “This is sleeping in for me.”

“Speaking of normal business hours,” Rachel grins wickedly, “we saw Jake's truck leave in the middle of the night. And we also heard something about lanterns on the ridge last night?”

I pull the covers over my head, but I can't hide my smile. “Don't you have horses to feed or something?”

“The ranch hands can handle it,” Rachel waves dismissively. “This is way more important. Now spill—did Mountain Man Jake live up to all that brooding promise?”

“Rachel!” I throw a pillow at her.

“What? If you don't give us details, Isabella's going to have her husband's security team write up a full report.”

Isabella snorts into her coffee. “Please, like I need them. Those cameras on the ridge caught everything.”

My head shoots up. “Tell me there are no cameras on the ridge.”

“Got you!” They both dissolve into laughter.

“I hate you both,” I groan, but I'm laughing too.

“Seriously though,” Isabella leans forward conspiratorially. “On a scale of one to 'I'm calling my divorce lawyer'...”

“Isabella!”

“What? Tony knows he's the love of my life. But I'm married, not dead. And those arms...”

“Those arms should be registered as lethal weapons,” Rachel sighs dreamily. “Now come on, Elena. Give us something. Did he at least kiss you under the Northern Lights?”

I feel my cheeks heat up, and they both squeal.

“Oh my god, that blush means so much more than kissing,” Rachel bounces on the bed. “Details. Now.”

“I am not discussing this with you two vultures.”

“Fine,” Isabella stands with dramatic flair. “I'll just have Tony run a background check on him. Again.”

“You did not.”

“Honey, that man background checks the grocery delivery people. Of course I did.” She winks. “Though I have to say, Jake's file was impressively clean. Almost suspiciously clean...”

“Out!” I point to the door, fighting a smile. “Both of you. I need to shower.”

“Fine,” Rachel sighs. “But we're having girls' lunch. With lots of wine. And you're telling us everything.”

“And I mean everything,” Isabella adds with a wicked grin. “I need something to make Tony jealous when I get home.”

They finally leave, their laughter echoing down the hallway. I flop back onto my pillows, unable to stop grinning. For once, I don't mind their teasing. Because they're right—I am glowing.

And if I take an extra long shower, reliving every moment of last night... well, that's nobody's business but mine.

∞∞∞

The Saloon (a popular local restaurant according to Rachel) is packed for lunch, but Rachel's family name gets us a corner booth away from the crowd. The place smells like grilled meat and fresh-baked bread, with a healthy dose of local gossip in the air.

“Okay,” Rachel announces as soon as our drinks arrive. “Spill. And don't even think about leaving out the good parts.”

Isabella leans forward, eyes sparkling. “Start with the lanterns. Very romance novel of him, by the way.”

“It sure is,” Rachel adds cheerfully. “Small town, hot guy, mysterious city girl...”

“Oh god.” I slide lower in my seat. “Can’t we talk about something else?” Luckily the food arrives, and I enjoy a few blissful minutes of not being interrogated while we eat.

But just a few.

“Honey, Jake Foster set up a romantic night under the Northern Lights.” Rachel takes a slurp of her French Onion soup. “The man who once told my brother that Valentine's Day was, and I quote, 'commercial propaganda designed to sell chocolate and false expectations.'”

“He did not.”

“He absolutely did. Right before he disappeared into the mountains for two weeks to 'check the fence lines.'” She makes air quotes. “In February.”

“Speaking of disappearing into the mountains...” Isabella wiggles her eyebrows. “That ridge must be pretty remote...”

I feel my cheeks heat up, and they both pounce.

“Ha! I knew it!” Rachel practically bounces in her seat. “Was it as good as those shoulders promised?”

“I am not discussing this in public,” I hiss, but I can't help smiling, even with a mouth full of club sandwich.

“That good, huh?” Isabella fans herself dramatically. “I need details. For science.”

“For science?” I laugh.

“Yes. I'm conducting important research on the correlation between brooding mountain men and—”

“Ladies.” A deep voice cuts through our giggles. Jake stands at our table, looking unfairly good in a dark flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“Jake!” Rachel's innocent smile wouldn't fool anyone. “We were just talking about you.”

“I heard.” His eyes meet mine, dark with promise. “Something about science?”

Isabella chokes on her wine while Rachel dissolves into laughter.

“I need to borrow Elena,” he says, not looking away from me. “Unless you're not done with your... research?”

“Oh, we're done,” Isabella says quickly, shoving me out of the booth. “Very done. Go... conduct field studies.”

“Gather lots of data!” Rachel calls after us as Jake leads me toward the door, his hand warm on my lower back.

The last thing I hear is Isabella's stage whisper: “Twenty bucks says they don't make it past the parking lot.”

“I'm never living this down, am I?” I ask as we step into the crisp afternoon air.

Jake's answering grin is pure sin. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

His truck is parked around back, and as he presses me against it for a kiss that curls my toes, I decide I don't care who sees. It’s not like I live here.

And that’s when the reality of our situation hits me like a physical blow. I’m supposed to be leaving in a few days. But how could I ever go back after what I’ve found with Jake?

As he helps me into his truck I turn and ask, “So what did you need to borrow me for?”

He grins after climbing in on the driver’s side. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to get you alone?" His voice drops lower. “I thought we could discuss a few things about yesterday. Like that view of the night sky. You seemed to appreciate that last night.”

Heat floods my cheeks at the memory - his arms around me, his hands on my skin, the way the stars blurred above us as he…

“The stars were... memorable,” I manage.

“Just the stars?” His hand finds my thigh, thumb stroking slowly.

“The company wasn't bad either.” I try for casual, but my breath catches when his hand inches higher.

“Not bad?” He raises an eyebrow. “If I recall correctly, you were quite... vocal about your appreciation.”

“Maybe I was just being polite.”

He laughs, low and dangerous. “Sweetheart, there was nothing polite about the way you screamed my name.”

The truck suddenly feels too hot. Too small. “Eyes on the road, mountain man.”

“They are.” But his hand doesn't move from my thigh. “Though I can think of better things to look at.”

“Like the view from your place?”

“Among other things.” He turns onto the snow-covered road leading to his cabin. “Though I should warn you - nothing compares to the view I had last night.”

“Is that your professional opinion as an expert on mountain views?”

“No.” He parks in front of his cabin and turns to me, eyes dark with promise. “That's my professional opinion as a man who can't stop thinking about the sounds you make when you come.”