To Claim the Mountain Man

Chapter 18

ISLA

Oh my God.

The blood drained from my face, and I lurched to my feet, moving faster than I had in years. All thoughts of Heath and what I'd been about to do to him were forgotten as footsteps thudded closer, traveling down the front hallway, ever closer to my bedroom.

"Isles?" Garrett called again, his deep voice louder this time. "Natalie and I wanted to surprise you with dinner to celebrate your first day. We got Chinese. You in here?"

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

This was not  happening.

My eyes flew to Heath, who'd managed to yank his jeans back up in record time. He faced away from my bedroom door, covertly rearranging himself inside of his pants while pretending to investigate the bookshelf we were installing.

I swallowed down my panic and forced a shaky, hoarse response, smoothing down my skirt.

"I-In here!"

My brother appeared in the doorway a moment later.

"You alright, Isl—Heath?" His brow furrowed at the sight of his best friend in my bedroom, confusion and something else-- suspicion—clouding his eyes.

Heath, who'd crouched to sort through his toolbox, finally turned to face Garrett. Gone was the enraptured, sinful man who'd threatened to fuck my mouth. In his place, the handy-man, family friend who'd come over to help me install a bookshelf. Nothing more, nothing less.

I couldn't explain why something in my chest twinged at how seamlessly he flipped the switch. As if he hadn't  just been about to coach me through my first blow job. As if everything between us during the last ten minutes meant nothing.

"Hey man," Heath greeted Garrett, wearing a casual smile on his square features. He strode toward the doorway, arm extended to shake my brother's hand.

I risked a glance at the seam of his pants when he passed, where he'd somehow managed to tuck himself away. I blinked, unable to fathom how, exactly, he'd hidden the evidence of what we'd been about to do.

I'd been taken aback by the sheer size of him, even within the confines of his boxer briefs. It stood tall, straining against the white cotton. Kneeling at eye-level, I'd been able to make out the bulbous head and multiple, enflamed veins pumping blood up and down the substantial length...

Heat flushed through my body, culminating in my cheeks and my sex.

I stood by and watched as Garrett shook Heath's hand, content to fade into the background of their conversation.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Garrett stated, his eyes sweeping across my bedroom—over my pristinely made bed, not a wrinkle in the comforter, and our fully clothed bodies. Finally, they settled on the half-installed bookshelf, and the tension eased from his shoulders. "Isla's putting you to work?"

Heath chuckled, shaking his head. "I actually brought that over as a housewarming gift."

"Damn." Garrett rubbed at his bearded jaw, treading across my bedroom to get a closer look at the beautifully crafted shelves. "This is a hell of a housewarming gift. Natalie and mine's neighbors just brought over a fruitcake."

As if summoned, Natalie popped her head around the corner of the doorframe.

"Don't act like you didn't singlehandedly inhale said fruitcake in the span of one evening," she teased. Any tension that remained in the small room dissipated at my sister-in-law's arrival.