Mason: Alaskan Mountain Men: (A steamy, curvy girl, mountain man romance) by Khloe Summers

Author:Khloe Summers [Summers, Khloe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Summer to Winter Publishing
Published: 2021-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Mason

I hold one hand steady on the pistol at my side and keep my foot on the gas, ready to rev the engine if I need to. I know an off-road path I can take a mile from here to lose the SUV if I have to, but I’d prefer to end it quick draw style right here.

The passenger window rolls down slowly, unveiling not one, but two women, both in their sixties. “Sorry to bother you,” the passenger yells, her hair tied up in a long ponytail. “But, we’re lost.” The wind is whipping her hair into her mouth and she fixates on trying to get it out as my eyes dart between the SUV and the road. At this point, a rogue moose is a bigger threat.

“We’re looking for the Arctic Preserve. Is this the right way? There’s nowhere to stop for directions.”

I slow the truck down, but cautiously as there could be people in the back seat. The women in the front could be a trap.

The women slow as well. “Straight on through,” I holler. “Can’t miss it.”

The woman waves, smiles, and rolls her window back into place as River lets out a sigh.

“Come back up here darlin’,” I say, keeping an eye on the road as I offer River my arm to help her back into place. “You’re okay. Just tourists.”

Her lungs audibly gasp for air as I watch the SUV disappear from sight. It’s then that I turn down the dirt road towards Bo’s. He’s had a place up here for years. “Just a couple more miles and we’ll have a plan.”

I hold River’s hand in mine as the truck bumps over the uneven terrain. My mind is on her and the baby as I try to avoid as many dips as I can.

When we pull up, Bo is already outside working on the field near his cabin. It’s a nice plot of land. A square cottage next to the stream. A forest of pines surrounding him on all sides.

It doesn’t take long before he hears us pulling closer than he’d like. He’s a big guy. A little over six feet, built like a tank, and a little intimidating holding a rifle like he isn’t afraid to shoot it.

I stay put and wave out the window.

“Should I go down again?” River whispers.

“Nah, as soon as he realizes it’s me, we’re good.”

Bo takes a step closer, the gun aimed, his finger on the trigger. His stance stiff until he puts two and two together.

“Fuck!” he says, slinging the gun over his shoulder as he jogs up to the truck. “You never pull up with a passenger. Didn’t realize it was you man, sorry.” I step out of the truck and shake his hand. We see each other once every few months. It’s usually to trade goods, but sometimes when the nights are lonely, we’ll play a game of cards and finish a bottle of whiskey together. It’s a simple life up here and most people prefer to stay to themselves.

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