Page 101 of Mountain Men Heroes
“Oh, sexy!”
“Sure. Sexy booty warmers.” And Ivy left it at that with a wiggle of her brows. “You know this is past crazy and straight into batshit zone, right?”
Zahara patted her cheeks and stepped back from the cleared path down Main Street. And Ivy really got her first look at what lay ahead of her. Her heart tumbled to the ground and dragged her stomach with it. Main Street was better described as her strip of doom.
“Holy shit I’m screwed.”
“You always did like to tell it as you saw it.”
She shot a sideways glance down Main Street’s or Savage Ridge’s frozen version of a slip and slide.
Two teams barreled down the street in their birthday suits, tied at the leg. She cringed as the team on the left took a nosedive and crossed the finish line on their asses.
Oh man. She couldn’t do this. Not and actually manage to cross the finish line. But if she managed to win, maybe telling her sister she’d quit med school would go over easier.
She could hope. The only reason Zahara had come to Savage Ridge was to help her pay the mounting school debt she’d racked up.
Her teeth threatened to clatter, so she raised her gloved hands and cupped them around her face. “Remember that time I tried ice skating. You know that double date I ended up saving you from?”
Zahara set the metal canister down on the table and waved to someone over Ivy’s shoulder. “Oh my God, whatever you do, please don’t do a repeat. When you fell on that ice you somehow tripped everyone. There had to be thirty people on the rink!”
There were four times as many lining the streets watching the Risky Whiskey.
“Well, it’s not like I meant to.” With another long look down the icy lane, Ivy let out a heavy sigh and fisted the material of her coat over where her heart wanted to pound out of her chest.
Her date had been a great guy but the ice skating had led to mountain climbing, which led to her twenty thousand feet above jagged peaks contemplating survival probabilities with a questionable parachute strapped to her back. And that was where she drew the line. Nerdy girls with book fetishes didn’t do extreme sports and this sat at the top of her oh-hell-no list.
She took another gander at the street and scrunched her nose in horror. This would easily turn into a game of human bowling in less than five seconds. She paused, fingers clutching her sister in place, only long enough to grimace at the possibility of a total wipeout in front of the entire town. NAKED.
Men clad in loincloths with lumberjack physiques dotted every snowy surface her eyes touched.
And every single one of them would witness her wipeout.
No.
She shuddered long and hard. And Zahara wanted her to strip in front of them?
“No. Freaking. Way. Nope. Change my mind.” A cluster of the sexy guys in question walked by and she really tried to keep her eyes north of the nipples, but when five, yes FIVE naked, men built firmer than a freight train walked by smiling, what was a girl to do?
Appreciate the view, is what.
“Zahara, when you said I needed a change of scenery you didn’t say anything about mountain men with dimples and no clothes?”
Her sister smiled a cheesy grin. “Thought I’d leave that as a surprise. Merry Christmas!”
“You dirty slut!”
“Only on Christmas and twice on Sunday if you know what I mean.”
Right. Her sister, the straight-laced high school teacher and now the meaty dish between two scrumptious and deliciously hot male specimens. Some girls had all the fun!
“It’s about to get very cold for me, isn’t it?”
“Only if you think about it.”
Everyone from the small mountainside town gathered on the edges of the street. “It’s like they’re taunting my inner klutz and she’s greedily rubbing her hands together in anticipation of embarrassing me. They’ve all unwittingly positioned themselves to fall prey to my tendency to have the worst luck ever.”
“Look at it this way. You’ll meet everybody at once and kind of break the ice. Would make one helluva meet and greet, huh!” The excitement on her sister’s face tore her between giving in and giving up. She pinched the bridge of her nose to hide the laugh that wanted to break free.