The Cowboy’s Claim (Men of Copper Mountain #7)

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Sophie

The wind bites at my cheeks as I step out of the Devil’s Peak Lodge, but it’s nothing compared to the chill inside my chest. I’m here for a fresh start, damn it, and if that means throwing myself down a mountain to get over my asshole ex, so be it.

“Remember, Sophie,” I mutter under my breath, trying to keep my nerves from showing, “you’re here for fun.”

The ski resort sprawls ahead, an expanse of white and green with skiers dotting the slopes like colorful confetti. Devil’s Peak is rugged, untamed, and exactly what I need—raw enough to remind me that I’m still capable of taking risks, even if it’s just on a pair of wobbly skis.

I glance over my shoulder, spotting my friends in the hot tub near the lodge. They’re already settled in with mimosas, grinning like idiots, and watching me like I’m the main act.

“Dare you to kiss that grumpy mountain man on skis!” Jennifer calls, then blows me a kiss.

I shake my head, laughing at their little kid games.

Another one of them, Amber, raises her glass and shouts, “Go get ‘em, tiger!”

I flip her off playfully, rolling my eyes.

“Shut up!” I call back, but I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. They’ve been harping on about my ski instructor all morning.

Apparently, Aiden’s legendary around here—both for his skills on the slopes and for his arrogant asshole tendencies. They say he’s the best on Devil’s Peak, but he’s not known for being friendly. In fact, his reputation leans more toward “grumpy mountain god” than “cheerful instructor.” Naturally, that only makes me more intrigued.

I turn back toward the main slope, my heart thumping against my ribs. I’m not intimidated easily, but the thought of facing this no-nonsense, rugged instructor is sending a mix of anticipation and nerves pulsing through me.

Then, I see him.

Aiden stands at the base of the hill, ski poles in hand, surveying the mountain like he owns it. He’s taller than I expected, with broad shoulders that fill out his black ski jacket and legs that seem built for this terrain. His face is all hard angles and thick beard, with dark hair tousled by the wind. There’s an intensity in his eyes that makes my stomach flip, a look that suggests he’s already sizing me up—both as a student and something more.

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. This is supposed to be a fun distraction, not a heart-racing moment. But the way Aiden’s gaze locks onto mine makes it feel like something else entirely.

“You Sophie?” His voice is deep, a little rough, like gravel under fresh snow.

“Guilty.” I force a smile, trying to keep things light. “You must be Aiden.”

He nods, but there’s no answering smile, just a once-over that feels both dismissive and lingering at the same time. “We’ll start with the basics, then move up from there. You ever skied before?”

His bluntness catches me off guard, but I lift my chin. “Once or twice. I’m not completely hopeless.”

“Good,” he says, still watching me like he’s not quite sure what to make of me. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He turns and heads toward the lift, not waiting to see if I follow. It’s a small gesture, but it’s enough to light a fire in me. Oh, it’s like that, is it? Fine. Two can play this game.

I catch up to him, feeling the prick of his gaze as I try to keep up on my rental skis. I’m determined to prove that I’m not some pampered city girl here for cute photos and cocoa breaks. Even if my legs already feel like jelly.

We ride the lift in silence, the mountain stretching out below us. The tension is thick enough to taste, the kind that makes my skin hum and my mouth dry. I glance over at Aiden, trying to read his expression, but his face is impassive, his jaw set.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not exactly thrilled to be doing this?” I ask, breaking the silence with as much bravado as I can muster.

His gaze shifts to me, slow and deliberate. “Just not used to chatty clients.”

I smirk, refusing to let him rattle me. “Well, get used to it. I’m not planning on keeping quiet.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, almost like he’s fighting a smile. “Figured as much.”

The lift reaches the top, and he helps me off, his hands firm and steady on my waist. The contact is brief, but the heat from his touch lingers, seeping through my jacket and settling low in my belly. I try not to let it show, but the knowing glint in his eyes tells me he noticed.

We start down a beginner slope, and Aiden’s all business. His instructions are clear, concise, and delivered with the kind of authority that makes it hard to argue. But he’s also surprisingly attentive, his hands always there to steady me when I wobble.

“Keep your knees bent. Lean into it,” he says, his voice close to my ear as he glides beside me. “Stop fighting it.”

I grit my teeth, trying to focus on the snow beneath my skis instead of the magnetic pull of his presence. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one risking a broken leg here.”

“Fear’s half the battle,” he replies, his voice low and almost teasing. “If you let it control you, you’ve already lost.”

His words hit deeper than they should, striking a nerve that I wasn’t prepared to expose. I feel a surge of determination, mixed with something hotter, more primal.

“Watch me, then,” I say, trying to match his confidence. I push off a little harder, feeling a rush of adrenaline as I pick up speed.

“Bold move,” he mutters, but I can hear the hint of approval beneath the gruffness.

I manage a few decent turns, but the moment I glance over at him, my balance wavers. I flail, trying to recover, but it’s too late. I go down, landing in a heap of tangled limbs and snow. It’s not graceful. At all.

Aiden’s there in seconds, crouching beside me. His face is a mix of annoyance and something else—concern? Or maybe just annoyance with a side of amusement.

“Trying to show off, Snow Princess?” he asks, his voice low, almost growling.

I grin up at him, ignoring the sting of embarrassment. “Did it work?”

He shakes his head, but the hint of a smile finally breaks through, softening the hard lines of his face. “You’re stubborn, I’ll give you that.”

I take his offered hand, letting him pull me to my feet. The moment I’m upright, though, I slip again, and this time I crash right into his chest. My hands splay against his firm muscles, and I feel the rumble of his laughter before I hear it.

“Easy,” he murmurs, steadying me with a grip that feels more intimate than it should. His hands linger on my waist, and for a split second, we’re not just instructor and client. We’re something more, something raw and unspoken.

The air between us thickens, and I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from his. His eyes are darker up close, the kind that seem to see right through you, making my heart race and my pulse pound in my ears.

“What?” I ask, my voice softer than I intended.

He tilts his head, his gaze dropping briefly to my lips before meeting my eyes again. “You’re trouble, aren’t you?”

I laugh, a little breathless. “Depends on who you ask.”

His grip tightens, just enough to send a thrill down my spine. “Guess I’ll have to find out for myself.”

The words are like a challenge, one that sends a rush of heat straight through me. I want to say something smart, something that will keep this banter going, but the intensity in his eyes steals my breath.

Before I can respond, he releases me, stepping back. The distance feels colder, sharper, and I realize how much I liked being close to him—maybe too much.

“Ready to try again?” he asks, his tone back to business, but there’s a rough edge to it now, a hint of the desire simmering just beneath the surface.

I nod, trying to regain my composure. “Absolutely.”

But as I follow him down the slope, the burn in my legs is nothing compared to the fire he’s lit inside me…