Mountain Boss: Mountain Men Series Book One
Mountain Boss: Chapter 51

The rumble of a large truck has me stopping at the edge of the driveway.

I check my watch. Nine thirty.

The sound gets louder, and I see the top of the large box truck cresting the drive.

I look around, wondering if anyone else has heard that the mystery delivery is early.

I literally have no idea what this is going to be, but since everyone else seemed to think I should know, I stand my ground.

If it’s expected of me as the maintenance person, I guess I’ll take the lead.

I glance over at Sterling’s house as the truck nears.

He disappeared after lunch yesterday, and as much as I wanted to talk to him about the mattress—unsure if I would thank him or question him—I chickened out.

Instead, I spent the rest of yesterday using my big brush thing to clean off every outdoor light I could replace.

I step off the side of the driveway as the truck approaches and wait for it to roll to a stop.

The engine cuts a moment before the driver’s door opens.

I lift my hand to shield my eyes from the morning sun as a person climbs out. Cowboy boots hit the gravel in a poof of dust.

And then I have to work to keep my mouth closed because he’s cute.

Like really cute.

His mouth pulls into a wide grin. “Howdy, ma’am.”

I blush.

Even if my recent tastes seem to run to brooding older dark-haired men, this guy—who is probably around my age—is just too damn good looking not to notice.

“You in charge here?” His grin goes nowhere as he asks.

I shake my head and chuckle. “Hardly. But I was warned about a delivery.” I tip my head toward his truck. “Should I assume you have some stuff for us back there?”

He props his hands on his hips and nods. “You’re as smart as you are pretty.”

I notice the small bite of pain in my thumbs before I realize I’m pressing my fingers together.

I relax my hands.

I am normal.

Normal and flustered.

“So…” The driver is still watching me. “You want them all in one place?”

I blink. “Huh?” I can’t think straight with his flirty tone.

“The mattresses.”

“The mattresses?” I repeat, like I’ve suddenly forgotten the English language.

His grin grows. “You sure you work here?”

I huff out a laugh. “I’m beginning to wonder.”

His chuckle is loud, and I replace myself smiling along with him.

The man opens his mouth, but before he can say more, his gaze moves to over my shoulder.

His grin stays in place, but he stands up a little straighter. And I know. I just know that Sterling is behind me.

“Morning,” the driver says.

A large, warm palm lands on my shoulder, and I nearly jump out of my pants.

“Court, go tell the men the delivery is here.” Sterling’s tone is sharp, and it makes me feel like I’m in trouble. Even though I’ve done nothing wrong.

I drop my gaze, not wanting to see the driver’s reaction to my boss’s attitude.

But as I turn to go, Sterling turns with me so both of our backs are to the driver.

His hand is still on my shoulder, and I can feel the heat of his body as he leans into me.

“I don’t want to catch you flirting with other men again, Cookie.” His breath is hot against my ear, and it takes everything in me to stay upright. “Say yes, sir.”

A small sound crawls out of my throat, and I can only hope he doesn’t hear it.

But the way his body curls over mine tells me he did.

“Say the words, Courtney.” I can feel each syllable as it rumbles out of him and through me.

“Yes, sir,” I breathe.

His fingers flex against my shoulder again before he lets go.

I stumble forward, thankfully catching myself before I face-plant into the dirt. But my heart is beating wildly as I hurry toward the Bunk House.

I don’t know if the guys will be in here or scattered around the property, but I don’t care. I just need distance between myself and the sexual frustration that is Sterling.

As I reach the cabin, my brain replays everything that just happened, and I slow.

Did that delivery driver seriously say his truck was full of mattresses?

That can’t be true.

Where would they be going?

I’ve been in all the cabins. Mine was the only one missing a mattress.

Maybe they’re for Sterling’s house?

No, that’s dumb.

He might have a couple of beds in that place, but not a truckload.

I climb the steps to the Bunk House—the place Sterling once told me I had no business going.

Before I can knock on the door, it swings open.

And it says something about my frazzled state when I scream.

Fisher lets out a yell in reply before slapping his hand over his heart. “Jesus, Court. You trying to kill me?”

I mirror him with my hand on my chest. “You’re the one who scared me.”

Glen steps up behind Fisher. “What’s going on out here?”

I was already nearing cardiac arrest before this jump scare. If I make it through the day, it will be a damn miracle.

I take a calming breath. “The delivery is here. Sterling told me to come get everyone.”

Both guys lift their brows, but Glen is the one to ask the question. “Do we know what it is?”

“Mattresses?” I don’t sound confident.

They wrinkle their noses in confusion, and the continued synchronicity makes me smile.

“I think you might be spending too much time together,” I tell them.

“Huh?” they say at the same time.

I snort. “Like I said.” Then I heave out a breath. “Come on.” I start to step back. “Er, is everyone else in there?”

Fisher shakes his head but pulls out his phone. “I’ll send a message in the group chat.”

My smile falters a little.

A group chat for all the employees.

Except me.

“Okay, thanks,” I say instead of asking to be included in the text.

I don’t even have their phone numbers.

Three minutes later, I approach the open back of the truck with Fisher and Glen. Cook, Simpson and Leon converge from other directions.

Everyone accounted for.

A large tarp is spread out on the ground off to the side, and as we stand there, Sterling appears from the other side of the truck with a mattress on his back.

As we all watch, Sterling tilts his shoulders and drops the mattress onto the tarp with a thud.

“Start with your own beds.” Sterling stands straight and addresses our group. “Grab a new mattress and bring it to your bunk.” He points at the open truck, and I notice the driver standing inside. He’s leaning against a stack of mattresses, his mouth pulled up into a smirk and his eyes on me. I blush, again, and quickly look back to my boss. “Then bring your old mattress here.” He points at the tarp. “Team up so you’re not throwing your backs out. When the Bunk House is done, move on to the guest cabins. This shouldn’t take too long.”

“What’s the occasion?” Cook asks as we all just stand there, dumbfounded.

Sterling lifts a brow. “You don’t want a new mattress?”

Cook holds up his hands. “No questions. Got it.”

As everyone shuffles toward the truck, I turn to Fisher. “Will you help me carry one to my cabin?”

“Yeah—” Fisher starts to nod.

“Yours is done,” Sterling snaps out as he walks in front of us.

I turn my head to follow his direction. “Mine is done?”

But, of course, he doesn’t answer. He just reaches into the truck, drags a whole-ass mattress out, swings it onto his back, and stomps off.

“Boss seems to be in a mood.” Fisher shakes his head.

I bite my lip instead of replying as we step up to the back of the truck.

Why would Sterling do mine?

I tip my head back and look up at the truck full of mattresses.

Maybe he wanted to see if I put all my clothes back on my bed?

Jokes on him, though, because if I’d known he was going into my cabin today, I would’ve put all my dirty clothes through the wash so he could fold them.

It’s arguably incredibly inappropriate that he did that once already, but he did a really nice job.

Shame about the pile of dirty laundry on my floor.