I was supposed to spend the afternoon enjoying the view. Instead, I’m lost in the Montana wilderness with a dying phone battery, no idea where I am, and the sinking realization that I may have accidentally wandered miles off the trail.
Then Jasper Jones finds me.
Tall. Grumpy. Broad enough to block out the sun.
And very, very unhappy about the fact that I nearly got myself stranded on his mountain.
He barely speaks at first.
Just points me toward safety and growls instructions like he’s personally offended by my existence.
Fine by me.
I don’t need a rescue.
I definitely don’t need the way his hand settles on my lower back when the trail gets steep.
And I absolutely do not need the possessive look he gives every time another man talks to me.
Jasper is grumpy, protective, and entirely too bossy.
The kind of man who acts like keeping me safe is his full-time job.
The kind of man who keeps finding excuses to stay close.
The kind of man who looks at me like getting lost might be the best thing that ever happened to him.
