Taken By the Jealous Mountain Man (Date Night In The Mountains #17)

Taken By the Jealous Mountain Man (Date Night In The Mountains #17)

By Adriana French

Chapter 1

Chapter one

I push through the double doors of Passion Pines City Hall with my boots thumping against the polished floor.

The February frost still clings to my coat, but thankfully we got a break from the snow.

I just left our family home where my mother hosted the whole crew for lunch.

All five of my brothers and their wives were there to wish me luck, and Lord knows I’m going to need it.

My phone pings, most likely with another text in the family thread, as I scan the space, a little overwhelmed by the decorations.

The reality show, Blind Date for Life, is shooting here.

Apparently, their mail-order bride service worked so well for my brother Slade and the love of his life, Eva, that a production company got wind of it and decided to turn the concept into a dating show.

Now this town can’t decide if it’s a sleepy Montana mountain village, or a Hallmark movie set on steroids.

A few months back, it was dripping with Christmas lights for the Naughty and Nice ball, the night my brother Tanner finally found the woman who could match his wild heart.

Now the space is deep into Valentine’s overload, with glittery stars and pink hearts the size of dinner plates hanging from the rafters.

Candies, roses, and candles cover all the surfaces.

Thirty minutes from my mountain, and I already feel as if I’m drowning in all this fake sparkle.

But Lyssa Palmer is worth every second of this circus.

I stop in front of the wall plastered with posters promoting the show, and there she is in the center of the biggest one with her emerald eyes sparkling and her lips curved in that smile that’s haunted every dream I’ve had for twenty years.

We’ve been tangled since we were kids, on and off, crashing back together like magnets that can’t stay apart no matter how hard we try to pull away.

This last break was the longest, and God help me, it was my fault.

I backed off only because I thought she wasn’t ready to make the kind of commitment I needed.

The real, true love kind, where I wake up every morning knowing Lyssa’s my woman to protect and worship until we’re both too old to climb the mountain that towers over this town.

Oh, she was ready for a commitment all right; she turned around and signed up for this show. Hell, she could be engaged to someone else by the time this is over.

Turns out I was the coward keeping us apart. I’m not just in love with her, I’m obsessed.

Consumed.

She’s here somewhere, and I have to fight my need to track her down, haul her close, bury my face in her neck, and growl that she belongs to me, and no one else.

There’s no way in hell I’m letting her choose from a parade of pretty boys on national television without throwing every possessive inch of me into the ring.

A woman with a clipboard and big-city heels cuts across the room straight for me. With her tight ponytail, wireless earpiece, and expressionless face, she’s all business.

“Creed Stone?”

I didn’t dress up for this, but I am wearing my lucky Stetson. “Yes, Ma’am.” I tip my hat.

“Perfect. I’m Mandy. We’re ready for you.

” We stride together down a long hall, and she leads me into a cavernous auditorium where at least forty guys in suits, gym clothes, and fake cowboy boots are waiting, pacing, and chatting, sizing each other up.

At six-four, I tower over most of them. I’m in good shape from years of hauling line in storms with my brothers Slade, Zephyr, Tanner, Gideon, and Jude, who are probably the ones making my phone ping again with another text.

They love Lyssa. She’s been like family to us, with a deeper connection than blood in some ways.

I find a seat in the last row and sink into the creaky chair, as the room buzzes with testosterone and nerves thick enough to choke on.

Then I check the family thread and respond to the jokes, the “I wish you wells,” and the “I know you can do this” messages.

If I make it past the audition and join this crazy production, they’ll want me to cut all contact with the outside world until the show ends and the producers give me the go sign.

An hour crawls by, and my eyes haven’t left the empty stage in front of me.

All I see is her. The edible hollow of her throat smelling like pure creamy vanilla, begging me to bury my face there and breathe her like oxygen.

Her lush, curvy body pressed against mine as if she were made from the same mountain rock as me.

The way she’s convinced that if she says, “You’re looking tall today” to a plant, it will grow faster.

How close she is to her parents. How she made a special Creed playlist just for the days I’m gone on a job.

Thinking about her on television, flirting, smiling, maybe even letting one of these clowns touch her? My fists clench on my thighs as possessive, primal heat surges through my veins. She’s mine, always has been.

These guys? They’d fold the second she challenged them.

The skinny kid next to me leans over, all teeth and no sense. “You nervous? I hear the star’s a real firecracker. And did you get a look at her body? Holy shit. I love ‘em thick and curvy like that.”

I whip around, locking eyes on the weasel with a glare that’s dropped bigger men than him into silence.

My voice comes out low, with the edge of a freshly sharpened axe.

“Shut your fucking mouth. That’s my girl you’re running your lips about.

” The air between us thickens. I don’t blink.

One wrong word and he’ll learn exactly what happens when you poke a bear that’s already half-feral over the woman he’s about to lose.

His eyes go wide, and he finally has the sense to move to another seat. Good. Let them all know I’m not here to play childish games.

After another fifteen minutes, an assistant gives me the signal. I stand, roll my shoulders, and follow her through a side door into a dimly lit room. There’s a long Formica table in the center with cameras tucked in the corners, and two people waiting.

“Mr. Stone. I’m the director,” the dark-haired man in the center seat rises. Dressed in a tee shirt and baseball cap, he leans over the table and offers a weak handshake. “Derek Voss.” He gestures to the woman beside him. “This is Elena Ruiz, our showrunner. Have a seat.”

I grip his hand; sure, the shake is a little harder than necessary, but I can’t resist letting him know who’s really in control here. Then I drop into the chair across from him and remind myself to play it cool. I sincerely want a shot at this rodeo.

“So, Mr. Stone …” Derek smiles.

“Creed. Let’s cut to the chase,” I add with a grin, “no need to continue the show because you’ve just found the man for Lyssa Palmer.”

Elena exchanges a glance with Derek, pen hovering. “Cute and straight to the point. We appreciate that. Tell us about yourself, Creed. What brings a mountain man like you to ‘Blind Date for Life’?”

“I’m local, from Stone Mountain.” I gesture out the window toward the peaks I know like my own heartbeat.

“My family owns most of it, and it was a quick drive. Seriously, I’m here for one reason only: Lyssa Palmer.

We’ve been together on and off since high school.

She’s it for me.” My voice catches just slightly, and I don’t hide how raw I feel about this whole thing.

“I saw she’d signed up for your show and realized I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. ”

Derek nods, scribbling notes. “Handsome, strong, no B.S., and headstrong, I see. You’re clearly crazy about her. The camera picks that up already, but are you good with being isolated for up to eight weeks?”

“I’m a reclusive mountain man,” I tease. “Isolation isn’t an issue; it’s a bonus.”

“Our tagline is ‘The Bachelorette Meets Survivor.’ Lyssa will pick from a group of men as they’re presented with a series of physical and emotional challenges in their quest for love. Think surviving in the wild mixed with heart-to-hearts. You up for that?”

I let out a low chuckle. “Survival? You remember that storm that rolled in three nights ago?”

They both nod.

“Well, my brothers and I were on that mountain keeping the power on for you. Montana Maverick Lines is my family’s business.

We contract with the state of Montana to work in the most remote and treacherous terrain, so you could say wilderness survival is my regular job.

But when it comes to love? It’s Lyssa. We’ve dated for years, and know every inch of each other.

” I pause, letting that sink in, as my voice drops. “Inside and out.”

Elena’s cheeks flush a bit, but she keeps her cool. “We can tell you’re passionate about her. But Creed, this may be difficult to hear, but Lyssa could very well find forever love with someone she meets during the show. In the end, it’s her decision. The show’s about her journey.”

My jaw ticks. Forever? With one of those wimps in the other room?

Over my dead body. I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table, and lock my gaze on theirs.

“I’m not sure you understand the situation.

If anyone knows Lyssa Palmer’s fire, her fears, the way she melts when I touch her, it’s me.

She always comes back to me and doesn’t have a clue about just how intense my feelings are for her. ”

Derek tilts his head, intrigued. “She isn’t aware of how you feel? That’s a twist. Care to elaborate?”

I run a hand through my beard, taking a beat to compose my thoughts. “I’ve played it cool because I didn’t want to scare her off, but seeing her sign up for this lit a fire under me. No more games. I’m here to claim what’s mine. Body, heart, everything.”

“Possessive alpha vibe.” Elena grins with a glint in her eye. “Viewers will eat this up. But remember, it’s her call. We’ll have challenges: building shelters, trust falls in the woods, maybe even a steamy dip in a hot spring to test chemistry.”

I smirk as the image and memory hits me hard: Lyssa in that hot spring last summer, water beading on her golden skin, body pressed to mine, her thick thighs wrapped tight as I thrust slow and deep, her moans echoing off the rocks. The heat pools low in my gut with my cock twitching at the thought.

“Chemistry? We’ve got that in spades. Try keeping up.”

Derek laughs, but it’s forced. “Confident. I appreciate your attitude, but there’s a distinct possibility you’ll still be single when we wrap. Will you honestly be able to handle Lyssa choosing to spend her life with another man?”

The question lands like a punch, but I refuse to flinch from his stare.

“I’d respect whatever she decides. But she deserves to know I’m in love with her before she makes any final decisions.

If she doesn’t choose me after hearing what I have to say, I’ll wish her all the happiness in the world.

But I’m going to fight for her. She’s the only woman who’s ever made me feel like I could build a life instead of just surviving one. ”

“Tell you what.” Derek straightens. “We still have a few auditions, but you have potential.”

Elena chimes in. “You definitely have the mountain man look, as well as the story and the heart. If you join the show, viewers are going to root for you, that’s for sure. One last thing. You haven’t communicated with Lyssa recently, have you?”

I shake my head. “No. I wanted it to be a surprise. Good or bad, I needed to be there for her in the same way she’s always been there for me.”

Elena smiles, scribbling a few lines in her notebook. “We’ll be in touch very soon. Thank you, Creed. It’s been a pleasure.”

I stand, offering my hand again. “Thank you both for your time.”

As I stride out, I ignore the envious glares from the guys still waiting in the auditorium and push through the doors into the crisp mountain air. Passion Pines buzzes around me with tourists snapping pics, probably hoping to get a peek at my Lyssa, the town’s new star.

I hop into my truck and start up the incline, but don’t make it to the top. I need air, so I pull over at a scenic overlook and kill the engine.

The valley spreads out below. Lyssa’s probably down there now gearing up for her television debut. I picture her in her lacy bra and panties shimmying into that sexy black dress she loves, the one that hugs her hips and makes my hands itch to slide up those thighs …

“Fuck,” I mutter at the steering wheel. “I think I’m going insane.”

We hooked up the last time I saw her six months ago. She knocked on my door unannounced, rain-soaked, informing me we needed to talk. Any talking lasted about ten seconds.

I hauled her into my cabin, peeled off her wet clothes and kissed her hungrily. I can still taste the rain on her skin. She arched into me, yanked my shirt open, and gasped against my lips. “You always do this,” she whispered. “Do it again. Make me forget why I’m mad.”

Damn straight, I did. I carried her to my room, laid her down on my bed, spread her thighs, and devoured her until she was writhing, begging. “Creed, please …”

I worked my tongue against her clit and she came so hard she was shaking, crying out my name with her thighs clamping around my head.

Then I was over her, thrusting deep in one slow stroke, filling her completely.

“You’re mine, Lys,” I growled, with my hips rocking as her nails clawed at my back, and her heels dug into my ass.

“Yeah? Prove it,” she teased, right before I flipped her over and took her from behind, with my hand fisted in her hair, the other on her hip … I was hard and relentless, until she shattered again, and pulled me over the edge with her.

We fucked all night until we collapsed, but by dawn, the same old fear snuck back under my skin. I was worried she’d bail if I started using the word forever, so I let her leave. One of the stupidest things I’ve ever done.

I shake off the memory with my cock half-hard just thinking about it, and start the truck again. This show is my last shot. If they pick me, I’ll make her mine forever this time.

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