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  HANK:

  Camp Mountain Man #3

  by Kate Tilney

  Copyright © 2020 by Kate Tilney

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  HANK (Camp Mountain Man, #3)

  Chapter One | Bea

  Chapter Two | Hank

  Chapter Three | Bea

  Hank

  Chapter Four | Bea

  Chapter Five | Hank

  Chapter Six | Bea

  Chapter Seven | Hank

  Epilogue | Bea

  Also by Kate Tilney

  Bea

  When my brother has an accident on a hiking trip in the Alaskan wilderness, I rush to his bedside. Once I’m sure he’s ok, my thoughts shift in another direction. To his best friend, Hank.

  I’ve had a crush on the pilot/cook for years. And I’d give just about anything to spend a night alone with him.

  And it would seem Mother Nature is on my side when a flash storm forces us to make an emergency landing deep in the Alaskan wilderness...

  Hank

  After spending the past week—okay, decade—trying to keep my hands off of my best friend’s sister, the last thing I need is to spend a night with her alone in the mountains.

  I’ve been alone most of my life. Both by circumstance and choice. But the more time I spend with Bea, the more I’d like to change that.

  There are some lines that are better left uncrossed. A night with her might be worth it. But will a night be enough?

  Camp Mountain Man is a series of steamy and short standalone romances about curvy city slickers and the hunky mountain men who protect them in the Alaskan wilderness. Read HANK if you like adventure and romance full of heart. No cliffhangers, no cheating!

  Chapter One

  Bea

  The moonlight shines in through the window casting a light across my bed. I turn onto my side, sighing. This isn’t the first sleepless night I’ve had this week. In fact, I haven’t slept well since I arrived in Alaska several days ago.

  The first night, I was too agitated. My brother, Silas, had been in a hiking accident. I’d left the film shoot I was working on in L.A. Hopped a plane. And met Hank at the Anchorage airport for a ride to the lodge. Even after I was sure Silas was fine, the adrenaline of it all kept me up half the night.

  As for the other sleepless nights, they’re all thanks to a certain broad-shouldered man with a beard and biceps that could easily lift and toss a tree. Hank. I’ve known the lodge’s cook/pilot since I was in high school. He served with my brother in the military, and he came to visit one year during leave. I’ve basically had a crush on him since.

  How could I not? As a girl who’s always been on the tall and curvy side, I always felt a bit like a giant around other men. But next to Hank—strong and tall as an oak—I felt . . . normal. Plus, he was so quiet. He’d get this distant, thoughtful look. I always wondered what was going on inside of that head of his.

  A strong, mysterious man—was it any wonder I was crazy about him?

  Of course, back in the day, I figured it was the thing of school girl crushes. But when I watched the fabric of his flannel shirt stretch across those broad shoulders while he conducted the pre-flight checklist . . .

  My body practically melts into the bed just thinking about it.

  And isn’t a shame he hasn’t given me the time of day since he picked me up in Anchorage? How’s a girl supposed to fulfill her fantasy when she’s never alone with him.

  I’m not going to get any sleep. Not if I keep thinking like this. Back when I was little, and I couldn’t fall asleep, my mom would make me warm milk. I wonder if I could rustle up something like that for myself.

  Not bothering to look at the time—because, frankly, I don’t want to know just how little sleep I’ve had—I toss back the covers.

  I also don’t bother to pull on a pair of pants. For one, it’s dark, and I have no idea where I tossed them last night. And two, whatever time it is, it’s late. No one is going to see me walking around in a long T-shirt and underwear.

  All the same, I move through the lodge as quietly as possible. Though my brother has been working here for several years, it’s my first time coming to visit. I can see why he’s fallen in love with Alaska.

  And, after spending a good chunk of this week getting to know his girlfriend Violet, I totally get why he’s fallen for her too. Silas joked that there must be something in the water. In just a couple of months both he and Noah—one of the lodge’s owners—met and fell for their future wives.

  Thinking back on Hank and those broad shoulders—that messy dirty blond hair—I really do wish there was something in the water. Because then, maybe—just maybe—I’d have a shot with him.

  And, I don’t mind saying, I would make the best of that shot if given the chance. Brother’s best friend or not, I would enjoy myself thoroughly.

  I glance down at my top and gasp. My nipples are poking through the thin material of my shirt. I suppose it’s no wonder. Not when I’ve spent most of the night thinking about just how thoroughly I’d like to enjoy an hour—or day—in bed with Hank.

  I squirm as I reach into the refrigerator. I sure hope this warm milk trick works. Because I can’t spend another sleepless night fantasizing about him.

  Milk in hand, I close the door. Turning, I gasp as I come face to face with the man in question.

  Dressed in a mountain man’s signature flannel shirt and jeans, Hank stands on the other side of the kitchen island. He stares at me with those blue eyes, clear as a spring sky. His gaze is steady, unwavering. His big, strong hands are braced on the counter. What I wouldn’t give to feel those hands molding every inch of my body.

  For a moment, I wonder if I’m dreaming. Then he speaks.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d try warm milk.”

  He gives a short nod and disappears behind the counter for a few seconds. He reappears with a pan.

  “I’ll heat that up for you.”

  I hand him in the container. The tips of his fingers graze against mine, sending tingles of electricity and excitement through my body. His gaze flickers to mine again. And I know he felt it too.

  Pity I’m set to fly back to Los Angeles in a couple of days. Because I think Hank and I are about to have a moment.

  And while I said I’d be happy with just one night, I get the feeling one won’t be enough.

  Chapter Two

  Hank

  Sucking in a breath, I pull my hand back and turn toward the stove. There’s never been any doubt of the spark between Bea and me. But right now, there was enough spark from a brush of fingers, we could set the lodge on fire. And the gasp that came through her sexy, full parted lips leaves no doubt she felt it too.

  A sizzling spark of electricity.

  It’s the exact thing I’ve been trying to avoid all week.

  Hell, it’s what I’ve been trying to avoid ever since I spent Christmas with Silas and his family while we were on leave years ago.

  At the time, I told myself it was a symptom of leave. While on deployment, a soldier doesn’t
get much opportunity for action. Well, no action beyond his own two hands.

  I also told myself I was just caught up in the whole family set-up. I spent most of my life in foster care. I bounced from house to house. I went to a dozen schools. My longest stint in a house or school was two years. Then, when I turned eighteen, the Army became my family. It gave me a purpose. A place to be.

  Part of me thought I’d make a lifelong career of it. But after fulfilling my commitment, I opted out of re-enlisting. I just wanted peace. Quiet. A little bit of land to call my own.

  Now, it’s just Silas, Noah, and Ezra. My co-workers and bosses here at the lodge. And just last year, I bought a piece of land next to the lodge. One of these days, I’ll build my own home on the plot.

  But for now, I’m content.

  It’s all the more reason to leave well alone. Silas is the only friend I’ve known for more than a few years. I can’t risk screwing that up by fucking his little sister.

  Even if I’d love nothing more than to run my hands over every inch of that curvy body. To feel the weight of those breasts of hers spilling over the palms of my hands. To give her pleasure with my fingers and mouth.

  And great. Now I have a raging boner. I set the pan down harder than I mean to on the stove.

  I should’ve just left her alone in the kitchen to have her snack. But, I also have to get today’s food started.

  Sliding onto a stool at the counter behind me, Bea watches me heat her milk.

  “What are you doing up at this time of night?”

  “It’s four. I always get up at this time to start baking.”

  “Four?” She grimaces. “It’s even later than I thought.”

  I give a short nod and pull out the flour, yeast, and other supplies I’ll need for bread, rolls, and muffins. Turning back to the milk, I whisk it lightly and pour it into a mug.

  I slide it across the counter. She looks up at me with those bright, moss green eyes.

  My breath catches again. Damn, they’re stunning. Just like the rest of her. With that long, dark hair I’d like to grab hold of while I ride her.

  But it’s also then that I notice just how dark the circles are under her eyes. Before I can stop myself, I reach over the counter. Gripping her chin, I study her face.

  “What’s keeping you up at night?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

  I release her chin and step back. “Work?”

  “Something like that.”

  It figures. She has a fancy job working in television down in Hollywood. She works behind the camera—I’m not entirely sure on what. But I’ve seen her name in the credits of more than a few TV shows and documentaries. Always the proud, big brother, Silas never lets us miss one.

  Not that I’d ever miss out on seeing what Bea’s up to. Not. A. Chance.

  Bea raises the mug to her lips. I’m once again distracted by the visual of her using those lips on me. Of my fingers sliding into that thick hair as she wraps them around me—

  She takes a sip and winces.

  “Too hot?”

  “A little. But it’s perfect.” She gestures to the counter. “What are you making there?”

  “I’m making cinnamon rolls. Bread for sandwiches. Maybe biscuits and muffins.”

  “And you do that every day?”

  “Sure. It’s my job.”

  She shakes her head. “You’re a regular renaissance man. You bake and cook. You can fly a plane. And I know you’ve taken over some of Silas’s tours while he’s rested up.”

  “It’s my job,” I say again.

  “And you’re good at it.” Her lids lower. “Really good at it.”

  I don’t know why, but it feels like she just reached out and grabbed my dick.

  She hops off of her chair and comes around the counter. “Will you show me how to do that?”

  “Do what?”

  She points at my hands, deep into a pile of dough that I’m kneading. I turn my head and catch a whiff of apples and cinnamon. Two of my favorite scents.

  Though I know it’s a mistake, I demonstrate how it’s done. After she washes her hands, I push the dough over in front of her. And I watch.

  “You need to put a little more muscle into it.”

  “Easy for you to say.” She sticks her tongue out like she’s deep in thought. “You’re basically a mountain of muscle.”

  “You’ll know you’re doing it right when it feels right.”

  Rolling her eyes, she tries it again without much luck. When she catches my frown, she throws her hands up.

  “Show me how it’s supposed to feel then. Please.”

  Like I could deny her anything. Sighing, I step behind her. I hesitate only a second before covering her hands with mine. She gasps a little. It’s all I can do not to push my hard dick up against her soft ass.

  I breathe through gritted teeth, so I won’t be distracted by her scent. As I do, my fingers move with hers through the dough.

  “Do you see how that feels?” I ask, my voice low.

  “I think so.”

  Her own voice is soft and raspy. I start to pull my hands back, but she grabs them. She turns to look at me over her shoulder. She’s tall. Only a couple inches shorter than my own six-foot-one frame. All I’d have to do is lean forward another inch or so and my mouth would be on hers.

  Like a magnet, I can feel myself pulled to do just that. She angles her chin up, a silent invitation.

  Thoughts of brothers and right and wrong disappear. My lips are almost on hers when someone clears his throat. My head snaps back. Bea pushes away from the counter, bringing that sweet ass of hers right against my cock.

  Grunting, I turn to the doorway where Noah is standing. He has an eyebrow cocked and he’s wearing a shit-eating grin.

  “What’s going on here?”

  “Hank was just showing me out to knead bread,” Bea rushes out, sliding back around the counter.

  “I didn’t realize we were giving baking lessons.”

  I just lift a shoulder and go back to the dough.

  Grabbing her mug, Bea leaves the kitchen. On her way out, she darts a come hither look over her shoulder. I pretend not to see it.

  When we’re alone, Noah steps the rest of the way into the kitchen. Leaning a hip against the counter, he folds his arms against his chest.

  “So are you finally going to do something about that?”

  “About what?”

  “Don’t play stupid.” He smirks again. “Anyone with eyes can see you’re crazy about that girl.”

  “She’s off limits.”

  “I think you might find Silas is more enlightened than that.”

  And Noah might be giving him too much credit. I can’t think of many men who’d like the idea of their best friend putting their hands all over their baby sister.

  “Just drop it.”

  “Whatever man. Just remember to hang a sock on your door for privacy.”

  Noah ducks just before an empty metal mixing bowl goes sailing past his head. He’s still laughing when he leaves me in the kitchen.

  That was close. No matter what Noah says, I have to keep my hands off of Bea. She’ll be gone in another day or so. Then what? I’m not interested in a one and done bang fest with her.

  Besides, there are lines you just don’t cross.

  Chapter Three

  Bea

  I manage to get a few hours of sleep after my early morning run-in with Hank. How, I don’t know. It must’ve been the warm milk.

  Then again, maybe it was seeing—and feeling—his attraction for me. If Noah hadn’t walked in when he did, who knows what might have happened? I could’ve ended up bent over the kitchen counter while Hank took me from behind.

  I’m fanning myself just thinking about it.

  And while I think it’s pretty clear where we’re both going to end up, Hank seems to have other plans. When I arrived in the dining area for a late breakfast, he excused himself to chop wood. A
n hour later, I appeared at the lakeside for fishing. He went back to the lodge to chop more wood.

  Basically, every time he sees me, the guy goes and chops more wood. At this rate, he’ll have cut down the entire forest surrounding the lodge. And won’t that be a shame? It’s so lovely here.

  I mention how beautiful it is to Violet, who has quickly become a good friend.

  She nods. “You should really see it from the air.”

  “You mean like climbing a mountain?” Which, I guess I could do. But I still haven’t broken in my hiking boots.

  “That, or maybe a certain pilot would be willing to take you up.”

  “I doubt that.” It’s pretty obvious now that Hank is hiding out from me.

  Only now I know why. He knows he won’t be able to keep his hands off of me. I can’t help but both grin and pout at that.

  “I’m sure he’d do it.” Jules says, flashing a grin. “Especially if the request comes from his boss.”

  I’m guessing Noah filled his fiancee in on what he saw this morning.

  It’s probably mean of me to force Hank into doing something he obviously doesn’t want to do. But I really would like to see that view. And I’d like a little alone time with him even more.

  Besides, it’s not like he’ll need to worry about anything. It’s not like we can have sex while he’s operating a plane.

  At least I don’t think that’s possible. Though, it does give me a couple of ideas.

  An hour later, a grumpy looking Hank is waiting for me by the airplane. I flash him a bright smile. “Thanks for doing this.”

  He grunts, which seems to be his reaction to most things.

  Wordlessly, he helps me up into the plane and reminds me how to fasten the seatbelt. Once I’m secure, he finishes his precheck of the plane before joining me in the cockpit. My belly is aflutter with excitement—both in anticipation of what I’ll see and from being in such close quarters with this man.

  We’re airborne moments later. It’s hard not to be impressed with how well he handles the plane through the rough mountain air.