CHAPTER FIVE
Poppy
I woke at two in the morning because the wind was blowing against the side of the cabin, knocking like it wanted inside. I lay there for a moment listening to it, and then I remembered the seedlings.
“Damn it.” I jumped out of bed, pulling on the pair of leggings I’d taken off for bed. The broken seedlings I’d rescued after the rack disaster were sitting on the edge of the back stoop in order to catch the sunlight. They had grown several inches, and I’d been unreasonably proud of that.
I opened the back door, and it was caught by the wind and slammed against the side of the house.
“I’m coming, darlings,” I called out. It was only a few steps to where the plants were, but it felt like I was walking into a hurricane, the force of the wind was so great. Thankfully, it wasn’t raining.
I picked up the tray holding them and hurried back inside. Sitting them on the table, I examined the damage. Thankfully, it was minimal. They were bent over, not broken. “There’s my babies.”
They were pepper plants, but I had no idea what kind. Hopefully, nothing very hot. I did not do spice.
Well, not all spice.
I touched my lips where Cord had kissed me yesterday. It had been hot and wild and something I would always remember. My body was still humming a little bit.
Of course, he’d ignored me all day.
But that was to be expected from a broody mountain man.
He’d also handed me a sandwich at noon without saying a word and disappeared before I could thank him.
I had no fantasy about him declaring his undying love for me just because he’d kissed me.
Now, him taking me to bed… still an unrealistic goal. Afterall, I was the curvy girl with bossy tendencies who’d knocked over half his greenhouse. He was the kind of man who could have any woman he wanted and probably knew it.
And his size. That’s what really turned me on. He was literally a mountain of a man. When he’d pressed me against the greenhouse, all those muscles surrounding me… My panties had gotten just a little wet.
A lot wet.
If he’d suggested we go inside and continue, scandalizing every rose in the greenhouse, I would have been all in.
I took the jar of homemade fertilizer one of the guys had given me and sprinkled some on the traumatized plants. “You deserve a little treat.”
I touched their leaves softly. They were alive and appeared to be thriving under my care and I took it as a good sign. Maybe I had a green thumb after all. Maybe, I’d never had the chance to explore that part of me.
Which brought up the entire reason I was in Lone Mountain. On his mountain. Living just a stone throw away from my big, burly boss.
To find myself. Who was Poppy when she wasn’t caring for anyone else? That feeling of dread and gloom that had traveled with me was gone. It had been since almost the very first day. I knew it had something to do with Cord. He made me feel safe. And protected.
And wanted, that little voice inside me said, giggling. Remember how much he wanted you?
And did I. I still felt the hard length of him against my stomach as his mouth took mine. Man, could that man kiss. Talk about still waters.
It had been the kind of kiss that made you reassess every kiss you’d ever had before it and find them all deeply inadequate.
Deciding sleep wasn’t going to come back anytime soon, I walked to the window by the door, pulling back the curtains. The wind was still blowing the tree limbs, and if I wasn’t mistaken it had started to rain.
As I looked, a light came from the left, from Cord’s cabin. Not the steady warm square of a window I saw every evening, but a fastmoving light.
Was he headed toward the greenhouses? In this?
I stood there for approximately four seconds being sensible about it. And then I wasn’t. I grabbed a hoodie and pulled it on, then my shoes. The heavy work boots I’d bought to keep up with the mountain life.
I didn’t think about it, didn’t reason it through. I just shoved my feet in and went out the door into the dark and the wind. It hit me full in the face, cold and mean, carrying the smell of rain.
Cord was already down at the greenhouses by the time I reached the path fork. He disappeared around the corner of the second greenhouse. I stopped when I saw it.
One of the large roof panels had been torn off, leaving the plants exposed.
“Cord.”
He was in the center of the chaos, mud-streaked and swearing, shoving some of the heavy tables out of the way, away from the leak.
“Poppy? Get out of here. Some of the other panels may go.”
“I’m helping.” I ignored him and started moving the seedling trays to the other side of the room.
As I hurried to move them before they got soaked beyond repair, my boots slipped on the wet concrete. I slid into the edge of one the tables, pain exploding in my leg as I instinctively reached for the rack. It started tilting toward me.
“Watch out.” Cord lunged, pulling me away with one hand and holding the rack upright with the other. He caught me against his solid chest, his arm a steel bar around my waist.
“Damnit, Poppy.” Cord dropped to his knees, his calloused hands moving over my calf carefully. The rack was secure, but he didn’t seem to care about the plants anymore.
“I’m okay,” I said even thought my shin felt like it had been hit with a sledgehammer. “I just slipped.”
“Yeah. Almost causing another seedling apocalypse.” His smile was thin, but it was there. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He didn’t let go. His gaze traveled over me, lingering on the way the damp hoodie clung to my curves, his eyes darkening as he noticed how the cold had made my nipples hardened. “Come on, we’ve done the best we can.”
I looked around in dismay. The rain was pouring in like a waterfall. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure, Poppy. They’re only plants.”
“But they’re your plants, Cord. I know what they mean to you.”
He let out a jagged breath that was half-growl. Without a word, he slid one arm under my knees and the other behind my back. He picked me up with ease. I wasn’t surprised. I’d seen him throw around fifty pounds of topsoil like five-pound bags of sugar.
“Cord, I can walk—”
“Shut up, Poppy.” He tucked my head into the crook of his neck and I stopped protesting. Sometimes, a girl just had to do that. If he wanted to carry me, I wasn’t going to try and stop him. It felt too damn good.
He carried me out of the greenhouse and into the storm.
The rain was punishing, but I felt nothing but the furnace-blast of heat coming off his body.
His arms were strong and steady, wound my hips and back.
His possessive grip told me he wasn’t letting go.
I wasn’t totally surprised when he took me to his cabin and not mine.
Just like the storm, this thing between us was finally going to break.
He kicked the door shut behind us, the silence of the cabin settling over us like a shroud. He didn’t set me down. Not at first. He stood in the entryway, holding me, his chest heaving as he stared at me.
“You’re shivering,” he muttered.
He finally sat me on the kitchen counter. My legs dangled, my wet leggings sticking to my skin. Cord moved between my knees, his huge frame a physical wall of heat that made my head spin. “Get out of the wet clothes,” he ordered, his voice sounding like gravel. “Now.”
I reached for the hem of my hoodie, my fingers shaking. He watched me, his gaze fixed on me. I saw his jaw tick. I saw the way his eyes tracked the movement of my hands.
“I can’t… my hands are too cold.”
It was a lie. Or maybe it wasn’t. Either way, it was the invitation he needed.
Cord reached out. He didn’t just help. He took over. “Lift your arms,” he commanded in that voice that made me shiver more than the cold.
I did. He thrust his hands under the hem of my hoodie and the shirt I wore underneath. In once swift move, he pulled it over my head. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and as the cold air hit my skin, I could feel my nipples harden instantly.
Cord went perfectly still. He looked at me—really looked at me. Not as an employee. Not as a klutzy city girl. But as a man who wants what’s in front of him.
Me. I was the woman in front of him.
“You’re so beautiful.” His voice was thick with a mix of awe and hunger. “I’ve spent every night since you got here wondering if you were this soft everywhere.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He leaned in, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just below my ear. His beard was rough against my skin, making me shiver.
“I told myself I’d be a decent man,” he groaned against my throat, his hands sliding down to grip my hips. “I told myself I’d let you be. But then I saw you… I saw you almost get hurt…”
“Cord.” My hands found his hair, pulling him closer as I said his name. I knew this was the moment I’d been waiting for all of my life. To let myself be in the moment. Take what I wanted. “You are a decent man and I want you.”
He pulled back, his face inches from mine. The brooding mask was gone, replaced by raw, explosive heat.
“I know who you are, Poppy,” he said, his voice a low, possessive rumble. “I’m not taking care of you because I think you’re weak. I’m taking care of you because I need to. Because the thought of anything happening to you, makes me freak out.”
I smiled at his words. He worried about me.
Cared for me to some extent if what he was saying was true.
Which I believed it was. Then, I thought about all the reasons this was complicated.
I thought about the season ending and what came after and who I’d been before I dove two days and stopped at a diner and followed sketchy directions up a mountain road.
I thought about the girl who’d spent her whole life taking care of everyone else and never once let anyone take care of her.
And just like that, I knew who I was.
I was just me. Here. On a mountain in Montana, with a man who wanted me. Who was standing in front of me, desire in his eyes.
I made a decision the old Poppy never would have. I leaned into him, my lips brushing his. “Then stop talking, Mountain Man. And show me.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He captured my mouth in a kiss that tasted like the storm—wild, cold, and utterly life-changing. As his tongue swept into my mouth, his hand slid up, cupping my breast, his thumb raking over my nipple.
I let out a broken sound, my legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him as deep into my curves as he could go. The storm was raging outside, but in here, the only thing that mattered was the heat.
The explosive, terrifying heat of finally being found. Of being claimed.