Elijah Read online

  ELIJAH

  Camp Mountain Man: Bunkmates #4

  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.

  Cover Photos by

  pngstudio/ depositphotos

  vovan13/ depositphotos

  sutulastock/ depositphotos

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  1

  ELIJAH

  Ezra hands me a key to the cabin, studying me closely as he does. “You know you’re sharing a cabin with a stranger, right?”

  “Yep.” This is my second time visiting his Alaskan lodge. I bunked with a stranger last time, too. It really wasn’t that weird. We only saw each other once or twice a day and pretty much kept to ourselves.

  “And you’re okay with your bunkmate being a woman?”

  I shrug off the news. “I don’t see why it’ll be a problem. As long as she doesn’t mind Peg staying with us.”

  “I don’t know how anyone could have a problem with this sweetie.” Ezra’s wife Wren drops to her knees to scratch my Australian shepherd behind the ears. “Not even Hannah.”

  “Is Hannah my roommate?”

  Wren nods. “She’s one of my friends from back in L.A. She’s here researching a TV show she’s planning to pitch to a network.”

  I grunt in response. I’ve never met a Hollywood insider. I’ve never really wanted to either. “I guess we’ll be heading to our cabin.”

  “Enjoy your say,” Ezra calls after me.

  Stepping outside toward the trail to the cabin, I take in a deep breath of air. There really is something special about this place. Sure, I have plenty of mountains and trees back home in Seattle. I even spend most of my life working around them as a search and rescue dog trainer. But this place is magical, plain and simple.

  As we approach our cabin, Peg sprints forward, tugging me with him.

  “Steady there,” I call out, losing my grip on the leash as he runs. Swearing under my breath, I grab my luggage tighter and take off at a full run. I freeze when I reach the cabin and find a woman shoving the front door with all her might.

  A bomb-shell, full-figured beauty shoving against the front door wearing only a towel.

  I’m stunned a moment as I take in every curve. There isn’t much left to the imagination. Not that my imagination could come up with anything better than this. Smooth skin and curves for days. Ringlets of wet, dark blond hair falling over her shoulders. Bare toes I’d like to nibble on.

  She’s the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. I could stand here staring at her forever. I maybe would have if Peg didn’t take a running leap to bury his nose against her backside.

  “Whoa. I usually make a guy buy me dinner before I let him there.” She shoves her hand between Peg’s nose and the sweet spot between her thighs. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “That’s Peg.”

  She spares me a glance. “Isn’t he a boy?”

  I nod.

  “A boy named Peg. Sounds like a country song.”

  “It’s a pity, Johnny Cash settled on Sue and didn’t give Peg a shot.” At his name, Peg turns up and—I kid you not—gives me a shit-eating grin. Almost like he’s bragging about getting to third base with our gorgeous roommate. Lucky dog. I give the command for him to return to my side before he makes another go for her crotch. “Peg is short for Pegasus.”

  Her light brows draw together. “The winged horse? That’s a pretty fanciful name. How’d you come up with it.”

  “I majored in Greek mythology.”

  And now those brows go up. “Seriously?”

  “Nah, I served in the marines and got my EMT certification.” Not to mention the training I went through to guide search and rescue dogs. Even flunkies like Peg. “The breeder named the dog.”

  Amusement flickers in her eyes. “Pity, the Greek major sounded more interesting.”

  Annoyance flashes through me. I’m about to ask if she’s high—because what I do is saving lives. But I catch the teasing twinkle in her eyes. Those rich, velvety eyes a man could get lost in if he isn’t careful.

  “I’m not saying whatever you do isn’t interesting,” she says, her voice low and husky, like a caress against my junk. “But there’s something whimsical and just ridiculous enough about someone who studies Greek mythology that’s pretty appealing.”

  “That’s not much of a compliment.”

  She lifts a bare shoulder. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit rusty on my feet. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m locked outside of my cabin wearing only a towel.”

  And the fact that we’ve carried on a conversation this long while she’s in said state has to hold a record for the strangest thing ever.

  “I can help you with that.” I hold up the key I’ve still somehow managed to keep a hold of. “You must be Hannah. I’m Elijah. I’ll be sharing the cabin with you for the next couple of weeks.”

  She gives me a full inspection, and I can practically feel her hot gaze burning through the flannel and denim hugging my body.

  “Well, roomie. If you wouldn’t mind.” She gestures for me to unlock the door.

  Though it’s tempting to keep her waiting a moment longer, chivalry kicks in. She moves aside enough for me to slide past. Her body only inches from mine, the hair on my arms stands tall as I breathe in the sweet scent of lavender.

  Turning the lock, I push the door open and step back to let her in first. Hannah turns on her heel to stride inside. Only the edge of her towel catches on a loose nail. I get a good, full view of that luscious ass of hers before she even knows what happened. Gasping, one of her hands flies up to her chest and the other goes down. Not that it does much good. She’s way too busty to cover those tits with one hand. Hell, I’m not sure I could.

  It’s tempting to stare at her and watch her skin flush pink. But I’m a gentleman. Reaching for the towel, I hold it out to her.

  “I believe this is yours, m’lady.”

  For some reason, that has her back straightening upright.

  “Thank you.” Jaw set, she wraps the towel around herself. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go crawl under my bed and hide until spring.”

  “It’s barely summer.”

  “Good. That should give me plenty of time to get over this.”

  Then she stalks off and into one of the bedrooms, slamming the door behind her. Chuckling, I scratch Peg behind the ears as his tongue sticks out the side of his mouth.

  “We’ve sure got ourselves an interesting roommate, buddy, don’t we?” And as long as we’re sleeping under the same roof, this trip of mine is going to be every bit as interesting.

  2

  HANNAH

  Wren throws her head back as she laughs her ass off. Not that I blame her. I did just tell her the story of how I met my new hunky cabin mate. If the roles were reversed, I would’ve laughed until my face turned blue.

  “You’re kidding me,” she says when she stops for breath. “You got locked out of your cabin wearing only a towel?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “What were you doing out there?” She swipes tears away fr
om her eyes, even as her body wracks with more laughter. “I mean, really. What could have been so important that you ran outside—without your key—in nothing but a towel?”

  I can feel my skin flushing bright pink. I’d told my whole silly story without so much as a blush, but now that I get to this part, well, I’m embarrassed.

  “I saw a moose.”

  Wren’s eyes widen. “A moose?”

  I nod. “And I really wanted a picture to send back to my parents. As you know, we don’t see moose down in Southern California.”

  “And you couldn’t take a picture through the window?”

  “There was too much glare.” Now that the full truth is out, I’m feeling less ashamed. Was going outside naked my best move? No. But did I have a good reason for it? Kind of. “You understand the value of production quality. There’s no point in taking a shot if it isn’t a good one.”

  “Trying to get a perfect picture of a moose. That’s an excuse I’ve never heard,” a deep voice booms behind me.

  A little thrill runs down my spine as I remember it from earlier. I turn in my chair at the lodge to find all six-foot-something of my stud-muffin bunkmate standing a few feet away. Next to him is his furry sidekick. My heart does a little somersault before I turn my attention back to the dog’s master. With a shock of brown hair so dark, it’s almost black, and a pair of bewitching green eyes, the guy is a knock-out. Add in the perfectly whiskered face, broad shoulders, and an ass some might say won’t quit, the guy could have crawled out of my dreams.

  But as his dog flops onto his back at my feet, it’s obvious I’m not dreaming. I’m just openly lusting after him here.

  “I’m a television professional,” I say as he accepts Wren’s wordless invitation to join us at the table.

  She gives me a knowing look as if to say, ‘Didn’t I tell you we have mountain men aplenty here?’ It’s no wonder her Camp Mountain Man business is booming. And if this is what she has to offer, I’ll have no problem selling my TV show idea to any number of networks.

  “I heard you were here working on a new show,” he says, his hand resting on Peg’s head. “What kind of a show?”

  “An unscripted program.” That’s my go-to line when I don’t feel like telling people I make TV for people to mindlessly binge. Not that it isn’t highly entertaining. But my documentarian father and his friends tend to scoff at my work all the same.

  His eyes narrow. “Unscripted? Isn’t that just a fancy way of saying reality TV?”

  “Elijah here is more than just a pretty face,” Wren says. “He’s a bit of a smarty pants too.”

  I wouldn’t mind seeing what’s under those pants. I squeeze my legs together while I try to push that thought from my head.

  “I do develop reality TV,” I say. “And I’m here scouting a possible location.”

  “You’re not going to do another show about people who live off the grid.” He gestures around him. “They have WiFi here. We’re hardly off the grid.”

  “Nothing like that.” Enjoying our banter, I decide to see just how far we might take it. Leaning forward, I rest my chin on my fist. “I’m going to host a dating show here.”

  He snorts. “A dating show? Here?”

  I nod. “I heard about the Camp Mountain Man they’re running up here, and I was . . . inspired.”

  And, to be totally honest, I’ve never felt more inspired to do anything romantic than I do right now staring into this hunk’s gorgeous face.

  “How would that even work?” he asked.

  “I’m still working on the details.” Though, I know for sure we’re casting at least a couple of bearded hotties like this guy. Our ratings will go through the roof. “But that’s why I’m here. To scope out the land. To see what kind of adventures the cast can get into.”

  “Adventures?”

  “I’m thinking of fishing competitions. Ax throwing. Archery.”

  “Don’t forget a bake-off with Hank,” Wren adds. “Our friend Bea would be heartbroken if you forgot about our Internet star in the making.”

  “How could I ever forget about Hank?” Especially after finding out he’s the man behind the buttery biscuits I just ate.

  Next to me, Elijah is still staring at me like I’ve grown a horn out of my head. “What does any of that have to do with dating?”

  “We’ll have to come up with some sort of challenge system for our contestants.” I lift a shoulder. “As I said, I’m still working on it. This is only my first day on the job.”

  “Well good luck to you, I guess.” He shakes his head again. “I may not know much about TV, but it sounds like your idea could use a little work.”

  “Oh, I’m not afraid of a little work.” I give him a challenging look, and his lips curve up sending a fresh jolt of excitement to my belly. “And I’m not someone who gives up easily.”

  3

  ELIJAH

  A blood-curdling scream jerks me out of a dead sleep. And it’s a shame too. I’d been having a particularly graphic dream about my gorgeous cabin-mate and I getting better acquainted.

  After sharing a cabin with the most beautiful woman for the better part of a week, I’ve gotten used to the dreams. And walking around with a boner. Unfortunately, I’ve also become accustomed to waking up to her screams.

  I barely have time to tug on the pair of jeans I’d left draped on the chair next to my bed when the bedroom door flies open. There stands Hannah, looking like the wrath of God in little more than a nightgown with a ragged strip of clothing in her hands. Behind her, a guilty-looking Peg stands with a matching strip of fabric dangling out of his mouth.

  Sighing, I fold my arms across my chest. “What did he get today?”

  “Another pair of underwear.” She shakes the fisted fabric in the air. “Do you know what that brings the total destruction to for the week?”

  “Not off the top of my head, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

  “That’s four pairs of underwear, two bras, one pair of shoes, and a Prada handbag.” She narrows her dark brown eyes into slits. “And do you know who gave me that handbag?”

  “Wasn’t it from one of the Hemsworth brothers?”

  “Exactly!” She tosses the underwear at me. “What is Peg’s problem?”

  Somehow, I don’t think she’ll be flattered if I tell her the truth. That he’s taken a shining to her, and he’s acting out to get her attention.

  “What can I say? I’m sorry. The dog flunked out of search and rescue school for a reason.” Though it didn’t have anything to do with underwear, bras, shoes, and fancy purses. I still have hope for him. But now isn’t the time or place to get into that. “I told you I’d pay you back.”

  Somehow. God only knows how much she spent on all that stuff.

  “It’s not about the money. Just . . . please keep him away from me.”

  “I’ve tried. Somehow he’s figured out how to open doors.” I unfold my arms and shove my hands in my jeans. “Should I ask Ezra if there’s another place Peg and I can stay for the rest of the trip?”

  Hannah’s shoulders droop. “I’m not saying that. I just . . . I’m a little uncomfortable around dogs.”

  My eyes widen. “Seriously?”

  I’ve caught her sneaking him bites of bacon on more than one occasion, and she’s even given him plenty of pats. That’s hardly the behavior of a scared woman.

  “I’m not afraid or anything. They just . . . bring back bad memories.”

  I’d like to ask her what kind of memories. Then, I’d like to wrap my arms around her to give her comfort. Because she frankly looks like she could use a hug right about now. Hell, I can’t remember a time I ever felt the need to hold someone like this. But something about Hannah, and the sassy way she uses words—and those bedroom eyes—that stirs my soul.

  Instead of giving in to that impulse, my hands ball into fists in my pockets.

  “It seems like the least I could do is make you breakfast.” She barely winces, but I catch it. I c
an’t help but chuckle. “Oh, come on. My cooking isn’t that bad.”

  “It’s not that good either.”

  Fair point.

  “If you double-check the settings, I can make toast. And coffee.”

  She grins at that. “Oh, what the heck. I’ll make pancakes and bacon. But you’re buying me dinner at the lodge.”

  “It’s a date,” I say without thinking. Though, as she walks away, I find myself wishing that it was one. I’d like to unwrap that woman like the present that she is.

  HANNAH

  A man of his word, Elijah makes good on his promise of taking me to dinner at the lodge. Wearing the only dress I packed, I sit across from him on a cobblestone terrace that overlooks the clearing between the cabins, the lodge, and the lake.

  Over a dinner of grilled salmon, fresh asparagus, and two pieces of blueberry pie, we talk about our respective jobs. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little lame telling him stories about how dumb people can be behind the scenes of a reality show. Especially when most of his stories end with him reuniting friends and family.

  As the sun starts to lower I find myself looking for reasons to drag out the conversation. As an insect flies by, I point it out to him.

  “Are those lightning bugs?” I ask. When he stares at me blankly I add, “Or maybe you call them fireflies.”

  He shakes his head. “As far as I know, you don’t get those insects up here.”

  “Hmm.” I purse my lips, trying to remember some of the random insect facts I learned as a PA on a nature show. “Something to do with the terrain?”

  “I’m hardly a bug expert.”

  “They’re called entomologists.”

  “If you say.” He snaps a twig in his hands and throws the sticks aside. “We used to catch them when I was growing up.”