Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
When Emma returns to Devil’s Peak for one last adventure, the last thing she expects is to cross paths with Slate Warner—the man whose heart she broke a decade ago. She left him and the mountain life behind to chase her dreams, but the ruggedly sexy mountain man she once loved has only grown more irresistible, and now he’s built a life she’s not sure she belongs in.
Slate has spent years burying his feelings behind the rugged facade of the business he’s built alongside his brothers on Devil’s Peak. But when Emma shows up out of nowhere, all those old desires burn hotter than ever, threatening the carefully constructed walls around his heart. He swore he’d never let her get close again—but the pull between them is impossible to resist.
As a sudden snowstorm traps them in a remote cabin, Emma and Slate find themselves facing the truth of everything they left unsaid. The heat between them builds, sparking a passion that’s as wild and untamed as the mountain itself. But when the storm clears, will Emma choose the life she’s built, or risk everything for a second chance at the love she never truly let go?
The Rugged Hearts series is full of rugged, mountain man brothers, steamy tension, seductive banter, and love worth fighting for. Slate and Emma's love story is about finding your way back to the one who got away—and discovering that some things are worth risking it all.
Get ready to fall for the fierce passion of Slate and Emma in this heart-pounding, snow-melting insta-love romance that will leave you breathless.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Emma
The Devil’s Peak Lodge is exactly as I remember—warm, cozy, the crackling fire casting dancing shadows across the wooden beams. It smells of pine, strong coffee, and a hint of something more masculine, something that takes me right back to a time when I thought I had everything figured out. I take a breath, steadying my nerves as I push open the heavy door, the chill of the mountain air swirling in behind me.
I hesitate in the doorway, eyes scanning the lodge’s dimly lit interior. And then ice freeze my veins when my gaze lands on him. Slate. He’s standing near the fire, shaking off snow from his shoulders, his jacket flung across a nearby bench. Muscles flex under his thermal shirt as he runs a hand through his damp hair, and a flash of something hot coils low in my belly. God, he’s even more rugged than I remember, his jaw shadowed with stubble, his frame broader, stronger.
I’d heard that he’d created an extreme mountain adventure company with his brothers, but to finally see it in the flesh is something else. They’ve accomplished so much, putting all the skills they learned growing up in these mountains to good use by taking tourists and outdoorsmen out on river rafting trips, mountain climbing expeditions, snowmobile tours, and so much more. I can’t help the swell of pride that builds in my chest at all they’ve built.
Slate hasn’t noticed me yet, too caught up in banter with his brothers scattered around the lodge. Colt is the first to pipe up, grinning like a fool. “You’re looking rough, big brother. Those tourists give you a run for your money?”
Slate smirks, and it’s that same cocky twist of his lips that used to drive me wild. “Maybe you boys need to start pulling your weight for once.” His voice is deep, rolling through the lodge like a rumble of thunder. My breath catches, and I take a step back, half-hoping they won’t see me. But of course, the universe isn’t that kind.
Thorne shoves Slate’s shoulder, laughter bubbling up. “You just love playing the hero, don’t you?”
Slate’s smile widens, but there’s an edge to it. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you in line.”
The banter is easy, familiar, the kind that only comes from a lifetime together. And just like that, the memories flood back. Late nights, stolen kisses under the stars, the way Slate’s arms felt around me, safe and solid. I swallow the lump in my throat, reminding myself that those days are long gone. I have a job to do, and it doesn’t involve dredging up the past.
Steeling myself, I clear my throat. “Excuse me.”
The lodge falls silent. Slate’s head snaps up, his smile freezing, and for a moment, all he does is stare. His eyes are darker than I remember, sharper. My pulse quickens under his scrutiny, but I keep my expression cool, lifting my chin.
“Emma?” The disbelief in his voice is quickly masked, replaced with something harder. He crosses his arms, the muscles in his forearms flexing, the air between us crackling with tension. “What are you doing here?”
Before I can answer, Ridge lets out a low whistle, his grin widening. “Well, well, look what the storm blew in. The one that got away.”
Colt elbows Slate with a smirk, a knowing gleam in his eye. “You gonna sweep her off her feet, Slate? Or just hope she doesn’t break your heart again?”
I force a tight smile, ignoring the jab, though my cheeks burn. “I see you boys haven’t changed a bit. Still full of bad jokes.”
Slate’s eyes narrow, his gaze never leaving mine. “What do you want, Emma?”
There’s a challenge in his voice, and it ignites something stubborn inside me. I straighten my shoulders, refusing to let him see how much he affects me. “I’m looking for a guide to take me up the north ridge. Need a few shots of the northern lights for a magazine spread.”
His eyebrow arches, and his voice drops, rough like gravel. “You think you can just waltz back into town and expect someone to hold your hand up the mountain?”
My jaw tightens, heat flaring in my chest. “Not looking for a babysitter, Slate. Just a professional. I’ll pay whatever the rate is.”
Shepherd snorts, slapping Slate on the back. “Sounds like she’s hiring, Slate. Or are you too scared to face a little trip down memory lane?”
Slate’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, I think he might actually punch his brother. But his focus shifts back to me, his expression unreadable. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for, Emma.”
I take a step closer, refusing to be intimidated. “What I’m asking for is a guide, Slate. Unless you’re telling me you can’t handle it.”
His eyes blaze, and suddenly he’s in my space, so close I can feel the heat radiating off him, his scent filling my lungs—pine, sweat, mountain air. His lips curl into a half-smile, and the sight of it sends a jolt through me, memories of that mouth on my skin flashing behind my eyes. “Oh, I can handle it, babe. The question is, can you? Or are you going to run off again when things get tough?”