Chapter 3 Everly
EVERLY
I run all the way back to my sister’s cabin, still buzzing with adrenaline as I barrel through the front door. Amelia looks up when I enter, and I say a quick hi before I head into the bathroom.
Stripping off my sweaty clothes, I get in the shower, letting the water run cold for a minute to soothe my burning skin. I feel hot all over. Tingly. But it has nothing to do with the fact I’ve been running…and everything to do with the giant mountain man I just met.
Gunnar.
I say his name out loud, testing it on my tongue. It sounds rugged and masculine, just like him, and I lean back against the shower wall with a shuddery sigh as I turn the water up to warm.
He was so handsome.
Stupidly, maddeningly handsome.
I’ve never seen a man like him before—a man who looks like he was carved from the mountain itself, wild and immovable and utterly untamed.
You shouldn’t be out here alone.
It was the first thing he said to me. But there was nothing condescending in his tone—just a gruff kind of concern. A protectiveness that makes my knees weak just thinking about it.
And the way he looked at me…
Nobody has ever looked at me like that. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, burning into my skin like hot coals. There was something primal about it. Animal. Like he was trying to mark me with his gaze. Like he owned me.
I shiver despite the heat of the shower, desire pulling tight between my thighs.
My body has never reacted like this to anyone before.
Heck, I’m twenty-two, and I’ve never had sex.
I was always too busy studying to pay attention to college guys, and I never felt like I was missing out on much.
Now, after five minutes in Gunnar’s presence, I’m a quivering mess.
Breathing hard, I pull the showerhead off the wall, turning up the pressure. I guide the jet of water down my body, tense with anticipation as it nears my throbbing sex. When it hits my clit, I gasp.
With one hand on the shower wall for balance, I let the hot stream beat against me, closing my eyes.
I think of Gunnar. The way he towered over me, muscles bulging beneath his plaid shirt.
The deep growl of his voice when he asked for my name.
I let myself imagine how it would feel to be under him, dominated by his size.
How it would feel to have him inside me, claiming my virginity, those dark eyes fixed on mine as he takes what’s his…
I hold the showerhead in place as the fantasies play in my mind, and it doesn’t take long for me to come undone. A ragged moan escapes my throat, pleasure pulsing through me until I’m shaky and spent.
It takes me a moment to catch my breath. Then I replace the showerhead on the wall, slowly coming back to myself.
What the heck just happened?
The question lingers as I finish up in the shower and towel myself dry.
I just touched myself over a stranger…a man twice my age who I only just met.
I don’t know what I was thinking. Heck, Amelia is the big romantic, not me.
I’m meant to be the grounded one. The practical one.
And sexual fantasies about hot mountain men are definitely not practical.
I try to push Gunnar from my mind as I get dressed and head into the living room.
There’s barely room for a couch in this tiny cabin, and Amelia is curled up on it, holding her Kindle so close that her nose is almost touching the screen.
My sister has always preferred fiction to the real world, losing herself in stories the same way I lose myself in nature.
I sit down next to her, and she shoots me a distracted smile.
“How was your run?”
“Good, thanks.”
She’s clearly eager to get back to her book, so I don’t elaborate.
Instead, I boot up my laptop and check my emails, as well as all the usual sites for jobs in my field.
I refresh the Crave County Wildlife website a few times, but there are no new listings.
I should do something useful, like rework my resume or call around any of the local agencies I’ve missed. But my thoughts keep drifting.
I open a new tab without thinking about it and search:
gunnar cherry mountain colorado
I’m disappointed but not surprised when nothing pops up. Gunnar doesn’t strike me as the type of man to have a digital footprint. Heck, he’s probably never even heard of TikTok or Instagram, let alone set up social media accounts.
With a sigh, I give up any possibility of being productive today and shut down my laptop, looking out the window at the gently swaying trees outside.
I wonder where Gunnar and his group have made it to on the trail.
Part of me wants to go back out into the forest and find him.
I could sneak along behind the group and hope he doesn’t spot me.
As long as I stay close enough to see him…
Great. Now I’m thinking like a stalker.
Still, I can’t help wondering when I’ll see him again. It’s tourist season, so he must be running a lot of guided hikes right now. But Cherry Mountain is vast, and there are trails snaking all over it. I could roam the woods every day and I still might never cross paths with Gunnar again.
“What’s up?” Amelia asks, jerking me back to reality. I blink at her in surprise.
“I thought you were reading.”
“I finished the book.” She cocks her head at me and repeats herself. “What’s up, Ev? Why are you staring dramatically into the distance like someone just died?”
“Nothing’s up,” I tell her. “And I wasn’t staring dramatically.”
Amelia doesn’t respond—she just raises her eyebrows and looks at me expectantly, waiting for the truth. My sister always knows when I’m fibbing. I can never hide anything from her for long.
“Okay, fine,” I mumble after a few moments of silence. “I met someone on my run. A mountain man…a hot mountain man.”
The change in Amelia is instant. Her eyes light up, mouth widening into a grin. “And now you want to marry him and have his babies?”
“Amelia—”
“I’m kidding!” she says in a way that makes it clear she’s definitely not kidding. “Now tell me everything from the start. Don’t leave anything out!”
Her excitement is infectious, and soon I’m spilling everything about my meeting with Gunnar, from the moment I first heard his voice to the moment I ran back home. I leave out the part where I masturbated in the shower over him. I don’t think I’m ready for that conversation.
Amelia listens with rapt attention, and I swear she’s almost vibrating with giddiness as I talk.
“He asked for my name, and I told him, and then he said his name was Gunnar—”
“Gunnar?” Amelia interrupts. “Are you talking about Gunnar Solberg?”
“Uh, I don’t know his surname.”
“Big, grumpy guy in his forties? Beard, dark hair, tattoos?”
My heart thuds. “Yeah…wait, you know him?”
“Not really, but I see him at the hospital sometimes. He comes in for physiotherapy.”
I turn this new detail over in my mind. My sister works the reception desk at Cherry Hollow Medical Center, so she knows a lot of faces in this town. But I’m still struggling to process that she knows who Gunnar is.
“What does he need physiotherapy for?” I ask.
“His shoulder, I think. It was in a sling for a long time.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“Sorry, no idea,” she says apologetically. “He doesn’t come as often now—maybe once a month. It used to be a lot more, so I guess he must be recovering.”
I nod, hoarding these nuggets of information like gold. There’s so much I don’t know about Gunnar, but God, I want to know everything. This man is already under my skin, and I can’t ignore these feelings—can’t downplay them, no matter how much I try.
I need to see him again.
Even if it’s just to prove to myself that I’m being crazy.
Maybe if I see him, the spell will break and reality will finally catch up.
Maybe I’ll realize that he’s just a man.
Flesh and blood. A grumpy hiking guide who probably forgot about me the second I disappeared down that trail.
Either way, I have to know. That’s why I’m going back to Lover’s Lake tomorrow.
I just hope Gunnar will be there.