Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
This is all Nell's fault.
I mutter a curse and then circle around the Jeep to help Cordelia out. She steps out like a chick emerging from an egg, one little piece of her at a time. It's somehow the cutest and most ridiculous shit I've ever seen at the same time.
"The wind isn't showing me anything I didn't already see, Sunshine," I growl. "So you might as well get your ass out of the Jeep and into the house."
"Don't rush me," she huffs. "I'm manifesting success."
"At what?"
"Not dying in the freaking woods. Obviously." She rolls her eyes. "Yeesh. Are you always this cranky, Mountain Man?"
"You aren't going to die in the woods."
"I might. It looks very nature-y out here."
"It's a goddamn forest, Sunshine. It's nothing but nature."
"Would you stop reminding me?" she cries, shooting me a death glare.
"All right, that's it," I growl, scooping her up into my arms.
"Paul Bunyan, save me!"
"What?" I say, laughing abruptly.
"I said put me down."
"You did not. You screamed for Paul Bunyan to save you." I nudge her door closed with my shoulder and start for the cabin.
"Just checking to see if his spirit really haunts the mountains," she mutters, a pretty blush climbing up her cheeks. "You never know."
Jesus Christ. She's been here five minutes and she's already fucking up my world. Only, I don't resent it nearly as much as I do when the women in town do it. In fact, I don't resent it at all. I like it far too much.
Fuck. I think I need this girl to marry me.
Chapter Five
CORDELIA
"No cell reception?" I repeat, staring at Deacon in horror. "What do you mean you don't have cell reception?" Is that my voice? Surely that's not my voice. Why is it so loud and squeaky?
"I mean, Sunshine," he growls, "that little contraption in your hand is about as useless as tits on a bullfrog out here. The only thing you're calling with it is the spirit of Paul Bunyan."
Oh, he's never letting that go.
Tyr, his adorable Siberian Husky, thumps his tail against the side of the couch, watching us intently. He's a sweet dog.
"I feel like this would have been relevant info yesterday, Deacon."
"You didn't ask."
I splutter, trying to convince myself that I'm a grown professional and I can handle this. Except…I don't feel very grown or professional right now. I feel like a crazy person, stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with the world's hottest—and most infuriating—mountain man. Part of me wants to strangle him. The other part wants to throw myself at him.
I need to talk to the girls. This is an emergency of the highest order.
Hello, Paul Bunyan? I think I want to sleep with my infuriatingly hot boss. Also, I've never done that before so could you be a pal and help a girl out with some guidance? Kthnx.
Argh!
"How did I call you yesterday?"
"Landline."
Thank you, Baby Jesus!
"May I use the landline to make calls while I'm here?" I ask. See? I can be a grown professional. Go, team me.
"You'll only be here tonight, Sunshine."
"What?" I set my phone on the coffee table to plant my hands on my hips. "Now, listen here, Deacon Cromwell. You can't fire me before I even start! Sure, maybe I haven't made the greatest first impression today. And sure, maybe you do know what my underwear look like. And yes, maybe I don't have the first clue how to be a mountain person, but I've seen your office. And your office needs Jesus."
"That's not—"
"Actually, I'm not even sure Jesus could find anything in there. You haven't filed a single thing since 2017. 2017! And don't even get me started on your desk because I'm still not convinced there's actually one in there at all." I've seen trainwrecks in better condition than his office. If a trainwreck and a tornado had a baby, it still wouldn't compare to the state of the small, detached building he uses as an office.
"We're going out to prep some of the cabins, Sunshine," he says. "We've got hikers coming in for Valentine's Day. We'll stay there overnight, then head back down in the daylight."
"Oh," I say ruefully. And then what he said sinks in. "Um, how are we going?"
"We'll drive part of the way, then hike in once the trail ends."
I gulp, my stomach churning.
"It's an easy hike, Cordelia."
"That's…not the problem," I wheeze, sinking down onto the sofa as anxiety claws through me. I lower my head, taking deep breaths as spots swim before my eyes.
"Fuck," Deacon growls, stomping toward me. He places his hand on my back, pressing firmly. "Put your head between your knees and take deep breaths, baby."
I don't know what in our short history makes him think I'm capable of contorting my body into that position. Maybe he missed the size of my boobs and belly, but they don't exactly make contortionism easy!