by Kate Tilney
FLINT: Kings of the Mountain #2
by Kate Tilney
Copyright © 2020 by Kate Tilney
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
Cover Photos by superbo/ depositphotos and fxquadro/ depositphotos
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
FLINT: Kings of the Mountain 2
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Also by Kate Tilney
About the Author
Lila
I've been in love with him since I was a kid. He's the man I use to measure all the others. Not one has held up.
So when he needs help at his lodge in the mountains for the summer, I jump at the chance to show him how good we can be together.
Flint
I've kept my distance for a reason. She's too young. Too innocent. She's my best friend's little sister.
Now she's on my mountain and in my home. It's only a matter of time before she's in my bed. She's the one woman I can't have, but I need to make her mine.
Kings of the Mountain is a series of steamy, sweet, insta love short story romances. Read FLINT if you like curvy, virgin heroines and alpha heroes who sizzle while falling head over heels.
Chapter One
Flint
No matter how I look at it, I’m screwed. If I’d had any doubts about that fact, my best friend Shawn just confirmed it over the phone.
“I hate to say it buddy, but you’re right. Unless you increase business significantly before the year is over, I don’t see how you’ll be able to maintain operations at the lodge without risking forfeiture of your property.”
“Just say it. I’m screwed.” He doesn’t have to pretty it up with his MBA speak.
“Don’t shoot the messenger.”
He’s right, and I mumble a quick apology. But this hunting lodge and the piece of land it’s on is all I have. It’s not just a prime piece of Montana wilderness real estate. I spent every summer here as a boy. My grandfather left it to me when he died two years ago. I promised I’d keep it going.
He also left me with a pile of unpaid bills and back taxes.
Despite my best efforts, I’ve barely managed to squeak by. Another bad year, and I’ll have to hand the keys over to the bank or government—whoever comes knocking first. It’s killing me to admit that I’ve failed.
“You might want to look into getting a line of credit,” Shawn suggests. “If the bank won’t give you the loan, I might be able to spot you some cash.”
“I don’t need your money.”
He means well, but I don’t take handouts. I may have inherited this place, but I earn what’s mine.
But because I know his heart is in the right place, and because he’s had my back since we were in Boy Scouts, I lighten up my tone.
“I appreciate what you’re offering, but I can’t borrow money from you.” My granddad used to say you should never mix buddies and business. Especially when cash was on the line.
“I figured you wouldn’t be open to the loan.” I can practically see Shawn smirking on the other line of the phone. “I do have another proposition.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Papers shuffle in the background. “While it does look like you could use some upgrades to the facility, I think your biggest problem is publicity. You don’t do much advertising.”
“We don’t do any advertising. There wasn’t money in the budget.”
“You have to spend money to make money.”
“I hate when people say that.” Especially because the only people that works for are the ones who already have money. “Word of mouth has worked since the lodge opened.”
“Word of mouth alone won’t cut it these days. Not when your customers are dying out.” Shawn hesitates a moment, which only makes me more curious about what he’s going to say next. “There are some low-budget or no-budget advertising and marketing options.”
“Like what?”
“Social media for a start.”
I grunt at that. It’s not that I’m opposed to the idea. I just can’t see myself spending time posting pictures of the mountains and lake all over social media with hopes of getting a bite.
“And,” Shawn continues, “your website needs a serious update.”
He might as well tell me I should tear down the lodge and start over. “I don’t do any of that.”
“I have people who do.” Of course Shawn does. He runs a tech company in Seattle. He probably employs at least a dozen people who devote their lives to buzzwords and hashtags. “The marketing expert I’m thinking of is pretty interested in helping you out.”
Wait. “Did you already hire someone?”
“In a matter of speaking. But when the person is family, it’s less of hiring and more of calling in a favor.”
A knot forms in my stomach. A marketing expert in the family can mean only one person.
“I don’t want your sister working here.” That may sound harsh, but I have my reasons. Not that I can tell Shawn any of them.
“I know she was an annoying brat when we were younger. But she’s grown up a lot.”
I clutch the bridge of my nose with my fingers. I’m all too aware that Lila has grown up. The last time I saw her—five years ago, on the night of her high school graduation—I’d seen it for myself firsthand. Even felt it for a moment.
It’s that night, and what almost happened, that’s making me grind my teeth right now. If she’d been anyone else . . . But she isn’t. She’s my best friend’s baby sister. Some women are off limits. No matter how much you want them.
“I’m sure Lila is a very capable young woman.” I can’t emphasize the young enough. “I’m sure your clients back in Seattle have every reason to like working for her. It’s just not a good fit.”
“You haven’t even seen her work.”
I don’t need to see it to know. “I’m saying thanks, but no thanks.”
I’ll figure out a way to drum up some business on my own. In the meantime, maybe I can take on some carpentry work in town to get some extra cash in the coffers.
Shawn’s sigh comes in loud and clear over the receiver. “I’m sorry to hear you say that.”
He clears his throat, and my senses are prickled. Shit. He’s already done something.
“She’s on her way, isn’t she?”
“That’s a big ten four.” He chuckles as I swear. “Actually, she left this morning. If I had to guess, I’d say—”
There’s a knock on my office door and Jacobs, the lodge’s handyman and tour guide since the dinosaur ages, pokes his head inside.
“Boss, you have a visitor.”
He pushes the door open wider and in strides the bubbly brunette who once stuck a wad of gum in my hair when she was a kid. Only she’s not a kid now. With long brown hair falling over her shoulders, eyes bluer than our lake, and curves for days, she’s more grown-up today than she was at eighteen. And, if possible, she’s even more gorgeous.
Lila’s lips part and she flashes a bright smile. I shift in my chair, because my cock has become painfully hard.
“Shawn. I’ll have to call you back.”
&nbs
p; In the meantime, I’ll have to resist the urge to clear my desk and break the promise I made to myself to keep my hands off of her. The way she’s chewing on her lip now, it’s a promise that may kill me.
Lila
So he’s even more gorgeous than I remember. And my memory—not to mention my overactive imagination—basically turned Flint McIntire into a cocktail of Michael Fassbender, Ryan Reynolds, and all of the Hemsworth brothers. It’s a wonder I didn’t collapse on visual impact.
The last time I saw Flint in real life—and not in one of my brother’s Instagram posts through the years—he’d been tall and fit, but a bit on the lanky side. He’d kept the copper brown hair he’d inherited from his father’s side buzzed short. He’d usually had a perma-scowl on his face.
Today, he’s let that hair run a bit longer—perfect for a girl to run her fingers through. His strong jaw is covered with a trim beard that almost looks red depending on which way he angles his head.
The body he kept tight with weights and a treadmill at the gym has more bulk. Especially in the shoulders. Like he chops down trees twenty-four-seven then tosses them over his shoulders when he’s done. Okay, that’s a bit much—even if the visual almost has me panting.
Whatever he’s doing, it’s working for him. And, if the heat between my thighs is any indication, it’s working for me too.
The perma-scowl doesn’t appear to have gone anywhere. With it directed straight at me, along with those piercing, ice blue eyes, I have to wonder if I might not have made a rash decision coming here.
Still, after five years of waiting—more like ten if I’m being totally honest with myself—I can’t throw in the towel on my plan before I’ve even given it a chance. Taking a deep breath and channeling confidence that doesn’t come naturally to me, I pull back my shoulders and cross the room.
At the desk I hesitate only a second. Do I play this as the punk kid sister who used to follow her brother and his best friend around all the time? Or do I go for a siren out to ensnare a man?
If only I had a clue on how to seduce someone. That settles it. Forcing a bright smile on my face, I throw my arms around his neck. “Hey, buddy. Long time no see.”
His shoulders stiffen, only showing off just how strong he’s become. Since he’s pressed up against my chest, I can feel it too. My nipples harden and—with a yelp—I release him and take a giant step back.
He runs a hand through that hair of his and sighs. “What are you doing here?”
“Didn’t Shawn tell you I was coming?”
“He was just telling me when you walked in.”
I fight a little wince. How typical of my brother to make a situation more complicated than it needs to be. And how typical of a brother to cock block—or whatever you call what someone does to a woman—his sister.
Still clinging to that last bit of big tit confidence, I plop down in the chair opposite his desk.
“Shawn’s filled me in on the situation.” I give a sympathetic look, which is probably the most authentic expression I’ve had on my face since I arrived. “Luckily, I think there’s a lot we can do to drum up some new business for you.”
If I’m not mistaken, his eye twitches.
“Look, I’m sorry you’ve come all this way. I could wring Shawn’s neck for sending you here.”
“Oh, Shawn didn’t send me.”
Flint opens his mouth to say something, but stops. His brow furrows. “Come again?”
“Shawn didn’t send me.”
“Yet you’re here.”
“I sent myself.”
He stares at me closely, his expression giving nothing away. I figure I have some explaining to do. But I can’t exactly tell him the real reason I’m here. That I’ve been crazy in love with him most of my life. That no matter how many guys I’ve gone out with, no one has come even close to him.
“I’ve been curious to see your place,” I say. “Shawn has told me all about it through the years, I just had to see it for myself.”
Flint arches an eyebrow. “Try again.”
“I had to do something when I heard about what’s going on. You’re practically family.” Though, based on what I’d like him to do to me—and what I’d like to do to him—family may not be the right word.
He shakes his head.
Sheesh. He always was a hard nut to crack. That’s probably what drew me to him. I’m apparently one of those girls who doesn’t want romance to be too easy. I need help. That’s it. I need help.
Forcing my lower lip to quiver the way I used to when I was trying to con one of the boys into giving me the last cookie, I swallow hard.
“I needed to get out of the city.” I hope there’s just enough emotion in my voice to be believable.
“What’s wrong?”
“There was a guy . . .” There’s no need to tell him it’s him.
Concern flashes through Flint’s eyes, along with a jolt of guilt through my gut.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No, nothing like that,” I rush out before Flint can go and beat my imaginary ex to a pulp, which he looks capable of doing at the moment. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it. But it would do me good to be here.”
He grips hold of the arms of his chair, and I can’t help but notice his strong forearms. They’re perfectly accentuated by his rolled up sleeves. My gaze moves to his wrist, and I do a double take. Oh my God. He’s wearing it. The bracelet I brought him from my family’s spring break trip to Mexico. I gave it to him at my graduation party. Has he been wearing it this whole time?
Hope rushes through me. Is it possible he’s been thinking of me?
It’s now or never. “I’ll only be here a couple of weeks. Just until Shawn gets here.”
We stare at each other and tingles run through me from my fingers to my toes. This whole conversation has been like verbal foreplay. If only it would lead to both of us getting naked.
I’ll just have to be patient. It’s only my first day. There’s plenty of time to make him see me as a woman. An available, willing woman.
Shaking his head, he sighs. “I better show you to your room. Will a lake view suit you?”
Chapter Two
Flint
After leaving Lila in her room, I manage to avoid her the rest of the evening by taking Jacob’s place on a nighttime fishing excursion. I thought it would be a good distraction—and a good excuse to create some space—while I work out what to do about this mess.
When I wake this morning, I’m no closer to coming up with a way to send Lila packing than I was last night. It doesn’t help that I have a boner that’s hard as a rock.
I jack off in the shower, trying to visualize anything but Lila’s big tits and full lips. It’s the visual of those lips on my dick that pushes me over the edge.
Maybe now I’ll be able to figure out what to do.
But first, I have a full day of work ahead of me. As I head down the stairs and make a mental checklist of everything that needs doing, voices in the kitchen give me pause. Dorothy, the lodge’s longtime cook, doesn’t so much as sing while she works. Unless she’s developed a sudden penchant for listening to podcasts, she has company.
I bet I know just who’s keeping her company this morning.
Sure enough, Lila is at the counter with an apron wrapped around her body. A pink bit of fabric with the words “Life’s short, lick the bowl” written across it shouldn’t be sexy. Damn it all, I’m hard again. I can think of more than a few places I’d like to lick Lila.
This is really going to be a problem.
Catching me standing in the doorway, Lila’s face lights up.
“Hey there, buddy. Dorothy here was just giving me a crash course in how to make fluffy pancakes.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “Spoiler alert: you whip the egg whites separately and then fold them in.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about. I grunt in response and sit on one of the stools at the counter.
Doroth
y, looking more alive than usual, slides a plate of banana nut pancakes in front of me.
“This girl of yours has some pretty good ideas.” Dorothy adds a few strips of bacon and a heaping pile of eggs to my plate.
“She’s not my girl.”
Ignoring my words, Dorothy returns to the griddle to flip a row of pancakes. “Do you realize how few restaurants there are in town?”
I lift a shoulder and tuck into the pancakes.
“And there’s nowhere good for breakfast. Not since Pammy retired and closed the diner.”
I stare at her. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting to go open a diner.”
“You shut your mouth. You know you’ll have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming.” Swatting me with a dishtowel, she nudges Lila. “Tell him what you said to me.”
Lila hesitates a moment, but after another elbow to the rib she starts talking.
“I was going to give you a proposal later, but I don’t suppose there’s any harm in telling you now.”
“Tell me what?”
“I researched local businesses, and Dot’s right. There aren’t many places to eat. Not for a town this size or one so prime for tourism.”
Lila pulls out her phone and hands it to me. “Based on how much you’re already spending to keep the kitchen open for your guests, for only a little more—mostly in supplies and maybe one or two more part-time employees—you could make a killing opening your dining room to the public.”
“You think we should open a restaurant?”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Aren’t restaurants one of the riskiest businesses?”
Her cheeks flush, and I wish that wasn’t so appealing.
“Normally, yes. But Shawn checked my math on this, and considering you already have a fully operational kitchen, you wouldn’t be risking much.”
She looks so damn hopeful, I already know I won’t be able to say no to her. Even if it sounds far-fetched.
I nod at Dorothy. “You’d be on board for this?”