Page 13 of Undone By The Mountain Daddies

Shit.

The broken nail can wait. I think I’m about to be murdered.

The snow stops blowing for a second, and his face comes into view.

And suddenly I’m on board with the idea of being murdered.

The unbuttoned shirt he’s wearing flaps open in the wind, revealing impressive muscles that definitely have to be fake. I’d have to run a hand over him to check.

There’s dirt smeared all over his clothes. The same goes for his face, which is even more jaw-dropping than the body.

My pulse quickens, and it’s not because I’m stuck out in the middle of a blizzard. It’s hard to know if I’m out of breath because of the fear of the unknown or because of how drop-dead gorgeous this man is.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Lines appear between his brows as he stares down at me. Yeah, down. Because he’s a whole foot taller than I am, probably more, when I take off these Diors.

It’s a question I don’t know how to answer, so I open and close my mouth a few times like a fish out of water and wait for my mind to catch up.

It finally does.

But now all I’m thinking about is what I wanna do to that body.

Chapter 5

Knox

Her eyes are more lethal than any weapon.

“Yes,” she finally answers. “Aside from breaking a nail, I’m perfectly fine.”

Her body language says otherwise. I note the flushed color of her cheeks, the rigid shoulders, and draw my own conclusions.

She is far from ‘fine.’ That’s what the faux-fur coat and long blood-red nails are telling me. Fine is all the way back in LA.

Her eyes have me in another chokehold before I can figure out what to say next. They pierce through my soul, the same crisp blue as the water here when it’s not frozen over.

I glance at the necklace clasped around her neck. It has to be made of a hundred diamonds, same as her dangling earrings blowing in the wind, and yet I’m still convinced that her eyes are brighter.

“You should take your earrings out before the wind rips them from your ears.”

The woman scowls. “So I can give them to you?”

Big diamond earrings and an even bigger attitude? She may as well be carrying the Hollywood sign on her back.

“What’s your name?”

Her scowl transitions to confusion. She coughs, choking on her own breath or the gale-force winds whipping through the area. “You really don’t recognize me?”

Apparently, this is the first time this has happened.

I chuckle and take a step forward. “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

She scans the snowy ground like she’s looking for her next sentence there. I can’t imagine that she’s often at a loss for words.

“I’m Sienna,” she says. “Sienna Lane?” Her voice creeps up at the end, gaze fixated on mine as she searches for recognition in my eyes.

“The name doesn’t ring a bell.” I stuff my hands into my pockets and take another step forward. “Look, Sienna, I came over here to let you know that the conditions up here are too unsafe for you to continue driving.”

A smile plays on her lips. “You’re the first person who’s ever approached me and not asked for my autograph.”