Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
I glance at the door, half tempted to storm out and march to the cabin nestled at the base of the mountain that I assume is Barron’s to… to what? To yell at him? To demand answers for why he affects me like this? Or maybe… to do something worse. Something I’m not ready to admit.
No. I can’t. I won’t.
This kiss, it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. A lapse in judgment that can’t happen again. I’m better than this. Smarter. I’ve got my work to focus on, my research. That’s what’s important. Not the feel of Barron’s lips on mine or the way my heart raced when he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment.
I grab the notebook again, flipping it open with renewed determination. I can forget him. I can. It’s just one kiss. One stupid little kiss. I’ve handled far more complicated situations than this. I’ll finish my research, get the data I need, and then leave this place behind. Leave him behind.
But even as I think it, I know it’s not that simple. The fire he’s lit inside me isn’t something I can just snuff out. It’s there, burning low but steady, no matter how hard I try to douse it.
I look back out the window at the forest, the trees swaying gently in the wind like they know something I don’t. Maybe it’s the land that’s doing this. Maybe it’s Copper Mountain itself, pulling me into something I’m not ready for. Something I don’t want.
Or maybe… it’s him.
Either way, I’m in deeper than I want to be. And I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to get out.
Chapter Six
Barron
I stand at the edge of my land, the woods stretching out in front of me like a damn labyrinth I can’t seem to escape. My grip tightens on the handle of the axe, the rough wood biting into my palms. The sun is high, the heat of the day clinging to my skin, but it’s not the weather that’s making me sweat. It’s her. Tamlyn.
I lift the axe, swing it hard into the trunk of the tree in front of me, the sharp crack of wood splitting echoing through the clearing. But even the force of the swing doesn’t do a damn thing to put out the fire that’s been smoldering inside me since the moment she kissed me. Or maybe I kissed her. Hell, I don’t even know anymore. All I can think about is the heat of her mouth on mine, the way her body pressed against me like she was ready to fight and surrender all at once.
I growl under my breath, pulling the axe free from the tree and swinging again, harder this time. What the hell was that? What the hell is she? I’ve dealt with plenty of people trespassing on my land before—researchers, hikers, environmentalists. All of them are the same—stubborn, thinking they know more about this land than the people who’ve lived on it for generations. But none of them ever got under my skin like this.
It wasn’t just the kiss. It was everything leading up to it. The way she stood there, defiant, not giving an inch, daring me to make her leave. Her eyes, fierce and unyielding, like she’d burn me to the ground if I pushed her too far. The way she met me, stare for stare, refusing to back down.
I slam the axe into the tree again, my chest heaving. She’s nothing but trouble. A woman who values saving a few trees over the livelihood of the people who depend on this land. Someone who would fight me tooth and nail to stop the very work that’s put food on my family’s table for generations. She’s a threat, plain and simple.
But even knowing that, I can’t get her out of my head. The way her lips felt against mine, soft but demanding. The way she tasted—like fire and something sweet underneath. My blood heats up just thinking about it, and I swing the axe again, harder than before. It bites deep into the wood, and I grit my teeth, pulling it free.
I wipe the sweat from my brow, my gaze drifting toward the path she’d stormed off down after we kissed. I should forget about her. She’s just another distraction, another problem I don’t need in my life. I’ve got enough to deal with—this land, the logging contracts, keeping everything running smoothly. I don’t have time for a woman like Tamlyn.
But even as I tell myself that, I know it’s a lie. She’s in my head, her fire, her fight, the way she challenges me at every turn. It’s like she’s lit something inside me, something that refuses to burn out no matter how hard I try to douse it.