CHAPTER THREE
Frankie
The Welcome Challenge was exactly the kind of rich-people nonsense I expected.
Apparently, nothing said everlasting love quite like forcing your wedding guests to hike through the woods competing for prizes like caffeinated raccoons.
By the time we made it to the trailhead, my stomach had tied itself into enough knots to qualify for a Boy Scout badge.
The mountain air was grounding, smelling of pine and wet dirt, but it didn’t do a damn thing for my nerves. I was currently pretending to be the girlfriend of the hottest man in Montana while meeting his terrifying wealthy family for the first time.
“This is fine,” I muttered as we approached the wedding party. “People fake-dated emotionally unavailable mountain billionaires every day.”
“You talking to yourself again?” Max looked entirely too comfortable in his own skin as he walked beside me.
“Absolutely not.”
“You do realize I can hear you, right?”
“Then stop eavesdropping on my emotional breakdown.”
The corner of his mouth made that tiny, devastating twitch.
Damn it, but I wanted to kiss that teasing look right off his face. It didn’t help that my inner bad girl provided images that it shouldn’t have.
Pushing him behind a giant pine tree… wrapping my chubby legs around his waist and…
When we arrived, the trailhead was crawling with people dressed in outdoor gear that looked suspiciously untouched by actual nature.
I spotted the Barbie Brigade immediately. A cluster of bridesmaids who all looked like they existed on celery and spit. They were thin, polished, and wearing matching pink outfits.
I looked down at my jeans — the ones that actually made my ass look good — and the emerald green blouse that suddenly felt very… budget-bin. Which, it was.
One of the women turned our way and began whispering to the girl next to her.
Oh, good. We were doing Mean Girls, Mountain Edition.
I felt a familiar prickle of curvy angst, that old voice telling me I was too loud, too big, too much. But then I remembered I was standing next to Max Wilder pretending to be his fake wedding date.
Max must have seen something in my expression because he leaned down until his mouth was brushing the shell of my ear. “Don’t you dare look at them. You’re the only woman worth looking at, Frankie. You’re the only woman I’m looking at.”
Heat rushed into my face so fast it almost hurt.
And of course, that voice inside my head that usually landed me in hot water immediately started murmuring things in my other ear. He thinks you’re pretty. Marry him immediately. Have his giant mountain man babies.
I cleared my throat, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “You know, if you keep saying things like that, I’m going to develop expectations.”
His thumb hooked into the waistband of my jeans, tugging me closer. “Expectations are a good thing, Frankie.”
That silenced me like nothing else ever had.
“Drinks are over there,” one of the bridesmaids announced. She looked me up and down before adding, “There’s champagne too. If you drink carbs.”
Wow.
Okay.
Good to know Satan’s little helpers wore Lululemon.
“Finally,” I called out. “A wedding tradition I understand.”
Max’s chest vibrated against my back. The man was laughing. Actually laughing. And suddenly every eye around the patio seemed to lock on us.
Not Tiffany.
Not Leo.
Us.
The mountain man and his curvy fake wedding date. Although, they didn’t know it was fake. I looked up at Max and seeing his face, I realized I might not want it to be fake anymore.
A dangerous thought.
A very dangerous thought.
“Max.” Leo called out, wearing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You made it.”
I took an immediate, visceral dislike for him.
He was a paper version of Max. Two dimensional with no substance.
Handsome in a soft, pampered way. But it was the way he was looking at Max, in that cold, calculating way, that made my skin crawl.
The look he gave me was no better. His gaze slid over me in a slow tour of my curves that was half-sneer and half-hunger.
It made me sorry I hadn’t brought a sledgehammer I could swing it at his head.
“And you brought the hardware girl,” Leo added, his tone dripping with fake warmth. “Tiffany said you were dating, but honestly? I thought she was exaggerating.”
Excuse me? Before I could speak, I felt Max’s hand move, his fingers splaying across my back in a way that screamed mine.
“Her name is Frankie,” Max said, his voice flat and dangerous. “Try to remember it. Because she’s the one who’s going to be sitting next to me when I sign the papers to shut down that development project of yours if you don’t watch your mouth.”
Leo’s smile faltered. Score one for the mountain man.
“Well,” Leo said, recovering. “Let’s see if the two of you can survive the Welcome Challenge.” He gave my body another swift look. “You have to complete it together, by the way.”
“Is survival the grand prize?” I asked.
One of the bridesmaids laughed before catching Tiffany’s expression and immediately pretending she hadn’t.
Tiffany gave me that perfected look of disdain. “Of course not. There’s a spa packet for the winner.”
I looked up at Max. “We’re hiking for cucumber water? That feels like an insult to my sweat glands. I would much more have preferred cash.”
Max laughed and Tiffany narrowed her eyes at me. Excellent. The war was officially on.
The challenge started, and couples scattered like buckshot. Within ten minutes, I realized that my quip about survival might not have been so funny after all. Max’s stride was long in direct contrast to mine, thanks to my short, stout legs.
“Why are your legs so freaking long?” I panted, my lungs working for air.
He stopped and looked at me, hands on his hips.
“What? I’m sweating in places that shouldn’t sweat.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re doing fine, Frankie.”
“Umph, remember to put that on my tombstone.” When I started to move forward, he took my hand, entwining our fingers and I suddenly felt ten times better.
The trail got tougher the further up the mountain we went, riddled with more roots and rocks. But every time I stumbled, Max was there. His hand at my waist. His arm under my elbow. Like he couldn’t stop himself from touching me. Which absolutely did not make my heart do weird little somersaults.
Not at all.
At one steep ledge, he stepped behind me and simply lifted me up by the waist like I weighed nothing.
I squeaked.
Actually squeaked.
I couldn’t ever remember being lifted by a man.
His hands flexed against my hips as he set me on the rock above him, his expression darkening for one dangerous second. “You okay?”
No. I was absolutely not okay. Because the look in his eyes was pure, unadulterated hunger. It wasn’t fake dating heat. It was I’m going to eat you alive heat. A frantic, liquid pulse centered itself between my legs.
“I’m fine,” I managed to croak out.
Liar.
Complete liar.
We found the first marker in a rotted-out stump. The second in a tree. The third was almost insulting — a tiny red flag shoved directly beside the trail like Leo had run out of ideas halfway through planning this stupid event.
The fourth marker, unfortunately, involved crossing behind a waterfall. Leo probably thought it was cinematic. I thought it was a lawsuit waiting to happen.
“Absolutely not,” I announced the second I saw the slick line of moss-covered rocks cutting through the rushing water.
“I am not a mountain goat, Max. I’m a woman with a high center of gravity and zero desire to spend the evening in the emergency room, despite that being a viable option to leave gracefully. ”
“It’s not that bad.”
“I’m going to fall, and you’re going to have to explain to Leo and Tiffany why the coroner is now a wedding guest.”
“You’re not going to fall.” The smile he gave me was devastating. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Max smile like that.
“I can’t swim, Max. I just thought I should tell you that. Along with the fact that people have drowned in less than two inches of water. It’s a statistical fact.”
Max stepped onto the first rock. “Come here, Frankie. I’ve got you.”
If only, my traitorous brain supplied.
I took his hand, and the world narrowed down to the rough, calloused heat of his palm. I’d been fantasizing the entire time he’d been holding mine of what those hands would feel like on my skin. Running up the sides of the thighs, over my hips, cupping my breasts…
“See, almost there.”
His voice jolted me out of my fantasy land and what happened next was inevitable. My foot hit a patch of slime and the next thing I knew, the world was cold, wet and very silent.
We both tumbled into the pool with a massive splash.
As I sank beneath the surface, I heard him shout my name. The panic in his voice was evident even as ears were covered by water. Before I could panic, he was already there, his massive arms pulling me upwards.
“You okay?” he asked, his hands framing my face. He pushed my sodden hair back, his fingers trembling just enough to make a fresh ache bloom deep in my stomach.
The concern in his voice had me shivering more than the sudden dunk in the water. Most men looked at me and saw the curvy girl. The funny friend. The hardware store cashier who could tell the difference between screws blindfolded.
Max looked at me like I was something precious — something he’d burn the whole damn mountain down to protect.
“I’m okay,” I said softly.
His gaze dropped to my mouth. The waterfall thundered around us, shutting out the rest of the world until it felt like we were standing alone inside some secret little pocket of the mountain.
Then Max’s eyes narrowed slightly, his focus shifting.
“You’re bleeding.”
“What?”
His finger brushed over my jaw and a tiny sting bloomed there.
“You must have scraped against a rock.”
“See, I told you it was dangerous.” Of course, the only thing dangerous at the moment was how much I wanted him to kiss me again.
Heat curled low in my belly as he stepped closer, his soaked frame hard against mine. He was a wall of muscle — huge, solid, and radiating enough heat to dry us both off.
“I don’t guess we’re winning that spa package now, are we?”
His heavy stare slid slowly over my wet clothing clinging to every curve. I knew he saw how hard my nipples were, pushing through the fabric of my blouse and my bra.
The look in his eyes wasn’t fake boyfriend mode anymore. It made me want take another cooling dip beneath the water.
“Doesn’t look like it.”
Another long look and then he was stepping away, climbing out of the pool and offering me his hand. I took it, realizing I’d be willing to fall into an ocean if it meant him taking me back in his arms.