The Hot Mess and The Mountain Man: Sugary, Steamy Instalove Mountain Man Romance (Guardian Mountain) by Blythe Everett

The Hot Mess and The Mountain Man: Sugary, Steamy Instalove Mountain Man Romance (Guardian Mountain) by Blythe Everett

Author:Blythe Everett [Everett , Blythe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-03T16:00:00+00:00


Ava

My heart is pounding. Luke’s so near I can feel the heat of his breath as he growls into my ear.

I don’t know what to say to him. For a few minutes there, I thought he wanted me. Now, I’m bewildered. I don’t know how, in one short, terrible day, this infuriating man has seen into the truth of my life and laid it bare between us. He’s right here, up close, in striking distance of the shame I’m always carrying around with me. The weight that drags behind me everywhere I go, slowing me down, pulling me away from the things I tell myself I want. He’s pressing on the bruise I wanted to leave behind. Picking at the scab I came here to escape.

And it makes me so mad, I could kill him.

But I can’t, so instead, I cry. Heaving, helpless, furious sobs, like my heart is broken. Because it is. It’s been broken for so long I can’t even tell you when or where it happened. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t desperately trying to hold the pieces together. Exhausting. It’s an exhausting way to live, and in one miserable moment, I know I can’t do it anymore. The dam breaks. I lose it. And I cry.

He’s got me. He’s in the bed, under the covers, and he’s gathered me up, one arm around my waist, crushing me tight to him, and one at the back of my head, gently stroking my hair.

Maybe it’s ten minutes. Maybe it’s an hour. I don’t know how long it takes me to cry myself out, but Luke is there and I hang on to him for dear life as a tsunami of pent-up feelings crash over my head. When the storm is finally spent, I’m limp and quiet in his arms. I know it’s not really over. There’s more. So much more to figure out and fix. I still don’t know what this is, or why I’m here, or when he’s going to decide he’s had enough of my drama and send me packing back to my usual daily disaster of a life. But right now it doesn’t matter. The pressure of his hands, the rasp of his stubble against my forehead, the soft, wordless sounds of comfort he hums into my hair: it’s enough. It’s more than enough. If I could freeze time and stay like this forever, I might. Or even just for the rest of the night.

Luke has other ideas. As usual. He shifts, pulling away from me enough to look into my eyes. I’m scared he’s going to say something about what’s just happened. Ask me something unanswerable. But it turns out that the question, when it does come, is easy.

“You hungry?”

Turns out I am. Ravenous. He slips away from me to the big stove and spoons up two servings of chili for us, placing them on a polished wooden tray to bring back to bed. Steam rises from the earthenware bowls, fragrant and inviting.



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