Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
JEN
Three days since that first kiss, and I still can't quite believe this is happening. Jared Calloway, Mountain Hermit Extraordinaire, now spends his evenings making out with me on his couch like teenagers who just discovered what lips are for. And I am absolutely not complaining.
I hum to myself as I add the finishing touches to the Christmas garland I'm hanging in the living room.
Jared is in town handling store business, which gave me the perfect opportunity to continue my holiday takeover of his cabin.
Evergreen boughs and twinkling lights now adorn the fireplace mantel.
A small Christmas tree stands in the corner, decorated with simple ornaments I found in town.
The cabin smells like the pine and cinnamon candles I strategically placed throughout.
My phone buzzes with a text from Ridge.
Big Bro: Jen, why did Mrs. Collins at the post office congratulate me on your marriage to Jared Calloway?
Crap. I forgot about Ridge. In my defense, I've been distracted by the unexpected development of actually falling for my fake husband.
Me: Long story, I type back. Call you later to explain.
His response is immediate.
Big Bro: You better. What the hell, Jen?
I wince. Ridge and Jared may be friends, but Ridge is still my overprotective foster brother. Finding out I'm supposedly married to his buddy without any warning probably activated all his brotherly alarm bells.
The sound of tires on gravel signals Jared's return. I position myself artfully on the couch, trying to look casual and not like I've spent the last twenty minutes plotting the perfect welcome home pose.
He enters with his arms full of grocery bags, stopping short when he sees the fully decorated cabin.
"What happened in here?" he asks, looking around with wide eyes.
"Christmas spirit struck." I bounce up to help with the bags. "Don't worry, I kept it tasteful. No inflatable Santas or singing reindeer."
"It's..." he searches for words. "Different."
"Good different or 'what has this woman done to my minimalist sanctuary' different?"
He sets the bags on the kitchen counter and turns to me, expression surprisingly soft. "Good different. It feels like a home."
"That's the idea." I step into his space, rising on tiptoes to brush a kiss against his lips. "Welcome back."
His arms come around me automatically, drawing me closer for a proper hello kiss. I melt against him, still amazed at how quickly this has become natural between us. When we part, he keeps me in the circle of his arms.
"Ridge texted," I tell him. "The town grapevine has informed him of our supposed marriage."
Jared winces. "What did you tell him?"
"That I'll call him later to explain. Which means we need to get our story straight." I poke him in the chest. "This is your fault, you know."
"How is this my fault?"
"You're the one who told Dr. Matthews I was your wife without giving me any warning. Now the whole town knows, including my foster brother who is probably plotting your demise with his girlfriend and step daughter to be as we speak."
"I'll talk to Ridge. Explain the situation."
"We'll talk to Ridge," I correct. "Together. Like the happily married couple we're pretending to be."
He tucks a curl behind my ear, the gentle gesture sending shivers down my spine. "Are we still pretending?"
The question hangs between us, laden with meaning. Three days of kissing and cuddling and shared meals and domestic bliss, but we haven't defined what this is. What we are to each other beyond a business arrangement that's rapidly becoming something much more complicated.
"I don't know," I admit. "What do you want this to be?"
His thumb traces my cheekbone. "More than pretend. But I'm not sure what that looks like yet."
"Me neither." I press my palm against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. "But I like where it's heading."
"Me too." His smile is small but genuine.
We stand there in his kitchen, grocery bags forgotten, just holding each other in the soft glow of the Christmas lights I hung. It feels perfect. Real. And that scares me a little.
Later, after we've put away groceries and made dinner together, we curl up on the couch with glasses of wine.
I'm nestled against Jared's side, his arm around my shoulders, my feet tucked under me.
The fire crackles in the fireplace, casting dancing shadows across the room.
Outside, snow falls gently, adding to the already substantial blanket covering the mountains.
"This feels like a Hallmark movie," I say, gesturing around us. "The decorated cabin. The fire. The snow. Two attractive people falling for each other at Christmas."
"Except Hallmark movies fade to black before anything interesting happens," Jared murmurs, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below my ear.
"Mmm." I tilt my head to give him better access. "And what interesting things did you have in mind, Mountain Man?"
His answer is to take my wine glass and set it aside, then pull me onto his lap so I'm straddling him.
His hands settle on my hips, warm and strong.
I loop my arms around his neck, admiring the way the firelight plays across his features, highlighting those impossibly blue eyes and the scar that only enhances his rugged appeal.
"You're staring," he says, voice rumbling low in his chest.
"Just appreciating the view." I trace his jawline with my finger. "Has anyone ever told you that you're ridiculously handsome?"
"Not recently."
"Well, you are." I press a soft kiss to his lips. "Unfairly so."
His hands slide under my sweater, warm against my bare skin. "You're beautiful, Jen. Inside and out."
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest tight.
This is moving beyond physical attraction into dangerous emotional territory.
The kind that leaves lasting scars when it ends.
And this will end. In just over a week, Aunt Mildred will leave, our arrangement will conclude, and I'll have no reason to stay in Jared's cabin or his life.
But with his hands on my skin and his eyes locked on mine, I can't bring myself to care about future heartbreak. Not when the present feels this perfect.
I kiss him deeply, pouring all my confused emotions into it. He responds immediately, pulling me closer. One hand tangles in my hair while the other explores my back beneath my sweater. I rock my hips against him, drawing a low groan from his throat.
"Jen," he murmurs against my lips. "Are you sure about this?"
"About what?" I tease, rolling my hips again.
"This. Us." His eyes search mine, serious despite the desire darkening them. "Where this is heading."
I cup his face in my hands. "I'm sure about right now. About wanting you. The rest we'll figure out as we go. Day by day, remember?"
He nods, then stands suddenly, lifting me with him. I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to his shoulders as he carries me toward the stairs.
"Show off," I laugh against his neck. "Using all those mountain muscles."
"You like my muscles," he growls, nipping playfully at my earlobe.
"I do. Especially when they're put to good use."
He carries me to the bedroom, our bedroom, and sets me gently on the bed. For a moment he just stands there, looking down at me with an intensity that steals my breath.
"Last chance to back out," he says softly.
In answer, I grab the hem of my sweater and pull it over my head, leaving me in just my bra and leggings. His eyes darken, taking in every inch of newly exposed skin.
"Your move, Calloway," I challenge.
He pulls his henley off in one smooth motion, revealing a torso that makes my mouth go dry.
Broad shoulders. Defined chest. Muscular arms. And scars.
More than just the one on his face. A puckered burn mark spans his right side.
Smaller marks dot his chest and shoulders.
Battle wounds from the fire that nearly killed him.
I reach out, tracing the largest scar with gentle fingers. "Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore." He catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. "But they're not pretty."
"They're part of you." I tug him down until he's kneeling on the bed over me. "And I happen to like every part of you."
His kiss is deep and consuming, like he's trying to express everything he can't say with words. I lose myself in it, in the feel of his weight pressing me into the mattress, the slide of his hands exploring my body, the heat building between us.
"God, you're gorgeous," he breathes, eyes roaming over my naked body. "Every inch of you."
"Not so bad yourself, Mountain Man." I run my hands over his chest, enjoying the way the muscles jump beneath my touch.
He kisses his way down my neck, across my collarbone, then lower, taking a nipple into his mouth. I arch into the sensation, a moan escaping before I can stop it. His hand slides down my stomach, fingers teasing along the inside of my thigh.
"Jared," I gasp as his touch drifts higher. "Please."
"Please what?" His breath is hot against my breast as he moves to the other one. "Talk to me, Jen. I want to hear you say it." His fingers trace maddening patterns on my inner thigh, so close to where I need him but not quite there. "Tell me what you want, baby."
The endearment, so casual yet so intimate, makes my heart race faster. "Touch me," I breathe. “Then I want you to drink every drop of what you do to me. All of it."
A smile curves his lips, predatory and promising. "Good. Because I want you too. Every inch of you."
His fingers finally, finally slide where I need them most, finding me already wet and ready for him. I cry out at the contact, hips rising to meet his touch.
"So responsive," he murmurs, watching my face as he works me with clever fingers. "So perfect."