I’m not the kind of woman men like him usually want.
I’m curvy, mouthy, a little too bold for my own good. He’s a storm cloud of a man—grumpy, growly, impossible to ignore.
I volunteered at his orchard to help with my classs field trip, not to fall headfirst into lust with the man behind the cider press.
But every time he looks at me, I feel it.
Every time he touches me, I want more.
And when he finally lets me in, I learn that there’s nothing better than being cider-kissed by a mountain man.
