Stuck Together with the Mountain Man

  Men of Bearclaw Ridge #3

  By Hazel J. North

  Copyright

  © Stuck Together with the Mountain Man by Hazel J. North

  2024

  All Rights Reserved

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Stuck Together with The Mountain Man

  When a storm traps me on the mountain with my brother's best friend, I'm hoping he'll finally see me as more than his best friend's little sister…

  Sloane

  I’ve had a crush on my brother’s best friend forever, but unfortunately, he left Bearclaw Ridge years ago to take a job at an offshore oil rig. Imagine my surprise when I head up the mountain for a delivery from The Grizzly Grove, and he opens the door. Maverick looks hotter than ever in his low-hanging sweatpants and bare chest, and I think he’s happy to see me too.

  When a storm strands us together in his remote cabin, I have a feeling it won’t just be the rain getting things wet—until a distressing call forces us to venture outside.

  Stuck Together with the Mountain Man is a short and steamy instalove romance full of heat and heart with NO cliffhanger, NO cheating, and a Guaranteed HEA. This book is part of Men of Bearclaw Ridge, a steamy instalove romance series set in a small mountain town where every insanely hot guy finds a sweet, curvy woman to love.

  Chapter One

  Sloane

  The Grizzly Grove isn’t often dead silent, but I’m not complaining. Even though I love running the bar with my brother, Benson, sometimes a girl needs peace and quiet to do admin work. A boring but necessary task that’s perfect to do on the bar’s closing days.

  Not only do we run a popular bar with special whiskeys, food, and the occasional event, but my brother and I also make supplies packages for some of the locals who live an isolated existence in the mountains. These customers love driving down the mountain and picking up one box of supplies instead of stopping at three different stores and socializing. Two times a week, we also deliver the orders to their doorstep.

  I don’t mind helping them out like we do. They’re happy their needs are met swiftly and easily, and Benson and I are glad for the additional income. My brother more than welcomes the money now that he’s a single dad with a cute daughter to take care of. Thinking about how his wife abandoned him makes my blood boil, so I focus on printing out this week’s orders instead.

  Benson and I work like an oiled machine. I do all the administrative stuff, like sorting and packaging the orders, and Benson delivers them in his pickup truck. I don’t mind helping him out with that from time to time. Let’s just say these mountain men are nice to look at. Even though lots of them are real grumps, they all love me like a sister and would never treat me badly.

  I attach the printed-out orders to the right boxes and double-check the list once more before calling my brother. Where the hell is he? It’s already lunchtime, and if he wants to ensure everything gets delivered before sunset, he should get a move on.

  I tap my fingers impatiently on the bar while the phone rings. He finally picks up after the third ring.

  “Benson? Where are you? All the orders are ready to be delivered.”

  “Hi, sis. I’m sorry, I should’ve called you earlier. I can’t come in today.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t come in?”

  He sighs. “It’s Lily.”

  My heart drops at the mention of my niece. “What’s wrong with her? Are you guys okay? Should I come over?”

  “Relax, sis. She’s got a fever, that’s all. I don’t want to leave her with a sitter.”

  “Oh, poor thing. Why don’t I come over and watch her while you deliver the orders?”

  He hesitates for a second. “Um, yeah, she only wants her daddy. But thanks for the offer.”

  “I get that. So I guess I’ll be driving up the mountain then? Can I at least borrow your truck?”

  “Of course. Just don’t come in and say hi. Lily’s finally asleep.”

  “Okay. I guess I’ll pop in after I bring back your truck.”

  “Great. Talk later, sis.”

  Before I can say anything else, he disconnects the call. I feel bad for Lily. A fever is the worst. I make a mental note to grab some food for them later. Knowing my brother, he hasn’t even thought about the logistics of dinner with a sick kid.

  I walk the half mile to Benson’s house and get into the truck. The keys are right where they always are—under the visor. I drive back to the bar, load the orders, and get on my way.

  We usually deliver at the top of the mountain first, working our way down to the valley, but I decide to do it the other way around today. A new customer lives in one of the most isolated cabins, and I don’t want to rush when dropping off their order. I enjoy getting to know my customers and treating them like humans instead of another number or sales transaction.

  My first stop is Falcon’s place. He’s one of the four Stryker brothers who run Ridgeroam Adventures. As I walk over to his porch, I wonder what it would be like to live out here instead of down in the valley. The views here are magnificent, and the smell of fir trees is nothing short of intoxicating. The silence is another big plus. All you hear are birds, the wind rustling tree leaves, and the occasional mountain lion call in the distance.

  What I don’t like is how the sky is getting darker by the minute, though. I hope the weather isn’t going to suddenly change this afternoon because I hate driving in the rain, especially in the mountains.

  “Hi, Sloane,” Falcon says as he opens the door. “Your brother not working today?”

  I shake my head and hand him his order. “Nope. Lily has a fever.”

  “Tell him I hope his little girl feels better soon. And thanks for this,” he adds, flicking his gaze to the box of supplies.

  “Any time, Falcon. See you around.”

  “See you, Sloane. Take care.”

  I sprint to the truck and drive to the next address. After three more deliveries, the sky has turned cloudy and dark, and I know my prayers for a sunny afternoon will get washed away soon. I’d better get a move on. My next stop is Hannah and Grizz. He runs the local Wildlife Rehabilitation center and orders from us every week without fail.

  Right when I knock on Hannah and Grizz’s door, big raindrops splatter on the roof of their cabin. I pull the hood of my sweater over my head and shiver.

  The door swings open, and I’m met by the adorable sight of Hannah holding her sleeping newborn in her arms.

  “Hi, Sloane,” she says with a big smile.

  “Hi, Hannah. I’ve got your order with me.”

  “Thanks. I’ll ask Grizz to give you a hand with the boxes. My arms are full,” she says with a laugh before calling out to her husband. “Honey, it’s Sloane from The Grizzly Grove.”

  I still think it’s funny how she addresses him with honey. Not that there’s anything wrong with a nickname like that. It’s just that Grizz is this grumpy, big, bearded guy. He’s not exactly the kind of man you’d imagine seeing when hearing someone call him honey.

  Hannah’s husband appears in the doorway and walks to the truck with me. As the rain falls on us, he looks up at the sky and frowns.

  “I think there’s a storm brewing. Do you still have a lot to deliver?”

  “A few addresses. It should be okay.”

  He stacks three boxes on top of each other and carries them to his house as if they weigh nothing. “Stay safe out there, Sloane. I’d hate to see you get into a dangerous situation up here. If things get too bad, postpone the rest of your deliveries to tomorrow.”

  Hannah smiles at her husband. “Honey, I’m sure Sloane knows what she’s doing.”

  He nods in agreement. “I know she does, but no one is immune to the forces of nature.”

  “Well, I’d better get a move on, guys. Sorry I can’t stay and talk for longer.”

  “We understand. Take care, Sloane,” Hannah says.

  “Don’t be afraid to reach out if anything goes wrong,” Grizz adds before disappearing inside with his wife and baby.

  I race through the remaining deliveries, the wind gains strength, and I realize Grizz was spot-on with his prediction. A storm is brewing, and it’s not going to spare the mountain of its impact. I should turn back, but what about our new customer? Skipping the delivery wouldn’t exactly instill confidence in our ability to meet delivery deadlines.

  Against my better judgment, I guide the truck further up the mountain. The rain beats against my windshield, and my wipers struggle to keep up.

  I didn’t even know there were houses this far up. Whoever lives here must love solitude. A lot.

  I park the truck in front of the cabin, a pit forming in my stomach as I think about navigating back to the bar in this storm.

  I get out, wipe some strands of wet hair out of my face, and jog up to the front door. I knock two times, short and loud.

  A lock turns, and the door swings open. I nearly get knocked off my feet. I don’t know who I was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t this guy.

  He only just fits in the doorframe; that’s how big he is. He has a full beard, ruffled dark hair, and abs to die for.

  Yes, abs. For some reason, he didn’t bother putting on a shirt. I’m getting the full-frontal view of his naked torso with his grey sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips.

  I swallow. He’s grown into an even hotter man since I last saw him.

  My eyes lift to his gorgeous face, and he grins. “Sloane? What a nice surprise.”

  “Yeah, a real surprise,” I manage to say.

  Honestly, Maverick Cole is the last man on earth I thought I’d be delivering to today, yet here I am, face-to-face with my brother’s best friend. With the guy I had a crush on when we were growing up.

  The guy who was responsible for almost burning our house down. Not that he held a match or was even around, but Maverick was the recipient of one of those love spells I tried out in my bedroom. The magazine swore it could make someone fall in love with you. Too bad they didn’t warn about the dangers of having a fire indoors.

  Anyway, it didn’t work, obviously.

  “Sloane? Are you okay?”

  “Huh?” I blink rapidly, trying to get back to the here and now. “Um, I’ve got your order from the bar. My brother couldn’t make it, so it’s just me today.”

  I hand him the box of supplies, our fingertips briefly touching during the exchange. “I brought you everything you ordered and included your nuts. I mean, nuts for you.”

  The corner of his mouth ticks up, but he refrains from laughing in my face. “You brought me nuts?”

  “I did. Special nuts. I mean, free special nuts because this is your first order with us.”

  “Okay,” he says, looking amused while I’m hoping for a sinkhole to appear.

  Yeah, I should get out of here before I embarrass myself any further.

  “Anyway, I’ve got to go. There’s a storm, and it’s not safe to be driving now. Bye.”

  I hightail it out of there and fumble with the car keys.

  “Sloane, wait, don’t go,” he calls after me.

  “I’m okay,” I reply and get in the car.

  “Stop!”

  It sounds like an order, and for a split second, I want to do as he says and stop, but I don’t. I turn on the engine and see him running toward me, barefooted. He waves his arms at me to make me stop, but I can’t. I’m too shocked to act reasonably.

  How long has it been since I’ve seen the guy? Gah, I don’t even remember. All I know is that my feelings for him, the ones I thought I’d left behind, come rushing back all at once, and it’s too much to deal with right now.

  A splatter of dirt flies in the air and soils my windshield as I rev the engine of my brother’s truck right before a deafening crack and thud causes the world to go black.

  Chapter Two

  Maverick

  What the fuck? The blood drains from my face as I watch a tree fall smack dab in the middle of Sloane’s car hood.

  I run toward her, not giving a rat’s ass that I’m barefoot. I yank open the truck door, feel for her pulse, and let out a sigh of relief. She’s still breathing.

  My stomach turns as I think of what could’ve happened if the tree had fallen a few seconds later. She’d be dead right now.

  “Sloane? Can you hear me?” I try, but she doesn’t respond.

  She must’ve hit her head during the impact. I put my arms under her head and legs and carry her to my cabin.

  I kick the door shut with one foot and gently lay her on the couch.

  “Sloane,” I try again.

  This time, she lets out a small moan. I hate that it turns me on. The girl is hurt, for fuck’s sake. The last thing I should be doing is appreciating the adorable sounds she makes and how good her curvaceous body looks spread out on my couch.

  Her eyes flutter open. “Maverick? What happened?”

  “You’re okay,” I say, relief flooding through me. “A tree fell on your car. Why did you run off like that anyway? You told me yourself that this weather isn’t safe.”

  “Benson is going to kill me. It’s his truck,” she says, expertly ignoring my question.

  “I bet he won’t be mad once he hears that tree could’ve ended you,” I say.

  “My head hurts.”

  I trail my fingers over her head, looking for bruises. Luckily, I can’t find any.

  She snickers. “Since when are you a doctor?”

  “Hey, watch it, Little Sloane. I’m trying to help you.”

  Her eyebrow shoots up. “Little Sloane? Really? I thought you’d have ditched that nickname by now. I’m all grown up, you know.”

  My gaze flicks to her broad hips and her breasts. She’s right. She’s all woman now. I grit my teeth. “I know, but you’ll always be Little Sloane to me.”

  “Little or not, I need to get back. I have to check on my niece and get the bar ready for tomorrow,” she says, sitting up straighter.

  I laugh. Is she serious?

  “No way. You’re staying here tonight.”

  “But—”

  I cut her off. “No buts. You almost got killed. That storm is only going to get worse. I’m not letting you risk your life. I’m sure Benson and his daughter are more than capable of looking after themselves.”

  “But Lily is sick.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “Imagine how sick she’ll feel if you die today.”

  Her features darken. “That’s an awful thing to imagine.”

  “Point proven. It would be horrible. So yeah, you’re not going anywhere, Little Sloane.”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  She leans against the couch cushions and gives me a scrutinizing look. “I have so many questions. Like, why are you back? And why didn’t my brother say anything? He knows how much I… um, appreciate you.”

  “I need a drink for that conversation. Want one?”

  She nods. “Sure, whatever you have is fine with me.”

  I grab two whiskey glasses and a bottle from a shelf in the living room. If I remember correctly, Benson once told me how much his sister loves experimenting with quality whiskey. Whenever we were on the phone together, I always casually inquired about Sloane. No matter how hard I tried, I could never get her out of my head completely.

  I pour the amber liquid into our glasses and hand her one.

  “I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab a shirt,” I say.

  I was chopping wood before it started raining, and I’m still sweaty and hot from the exercise, but I can’t sit here half-dressed. I have a feeling Sloane would think that’s inappropriate, even though I’ve caught her stealing glances at my chest and abs a few times already.

  I pull my shirt over my head and swear I see a flicker of disappointment cross her face, but that could be wishful thinking on my part.

  “I should call my brother and let him know I’m okay,” Sloane says.

  She fishes her phone out of her jeans pocket and frowns.

  “I should warn you, Little Sloane. This high up the mountain, cell service is spotty at best.”

  “Seems like it. I don’t have a single bar.” She shrugs. “I’ll try again later.” Sloane pulls her feet under her ass and smiles at me, her hands cradling her glass of whiskey. “So, Maverick. Spill the beans.”

  I laugh. “You don’t like mysterious men, do you?”

  “I do, but you’re not a mystery guy. You’re my brother’s best friend. I know you. What I don’t know is why you’re here after all these years. Not that I’m complaining,” she adds.

  She’s blushing. Cute. Would she also blush when taking off her clothes?

  “So?” she prompts me.

  “It was time. I spent years elsewhere, only to realize that Bearclaw Ridge is where I belong. When I heard this cabin was for sale, I jumped at the chance. It still needs renovating, but the foundations are solid. Having a home base again feels great.”

  She nods. “I can imagine. Didn’t you have time off?”

  “I worked on an oil rig, Little Sloane. My hours were brutal, and I only had one week off every month. I spent my days off flying water planes for an ecological adventure tour company. Thrill seekers could book a weekend on a remote island and live off the land.”

 

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