Snow Plow – The Mountain Men of Linesworth Read Online Frankie Love

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 12805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 64(@200wpm)___ 51(@250wpm)___ 43(@300wpm)
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She laughs. "No, it's just my granddad is about, you know, 10 feet away from me."

"You work with your grandpa?"

"Yeah, I work with my granddad. This is actually his grocery store. He raised me so I’ve pretty much been working here since I could walk. I keep trying to talk him into retiring, but he says over his dead body, which is a little crass, but you know, you've got to meet him to understand."

"Well, maybe I will," I tell her. "So who will be making this delivery?" I ask. "Because that's kind of important."

"Is it?" she asks. "And why is that?"

"Because," I tell her, "if I'm getting some big package I want to know who I'm tipping."

"Me," she says, "I’m going to be the one bringing you your package."

"Hmmm," I say. "Maybe you'll be the one receiving it."

She gasps.

"Are you shocked?" I say.

"Maybe," she says, "a little."

"You're the one who suggested chocolate sauce and whipped cream."

"Hey, you were the one who said you wanted something sweet."

"I did. But you're the one who suggested something so seductive."

"Those are sundae toppings. Nothing sexual about that."

I chuckle. "I guess you never had me make you a sundae."

"I guess I haven't, Nicholas."

"You know, when you come and bring me my big package, we could always have sundaes by the fire."

"Are you asking me to add ice cream to this order?" she asks and now I know she's flirting.

"No, Quinn. You're the sundae. And the hot fudge, honey, it goes all over you."

2

QUINN

I get off the phone and I feel my face aflame. Like bright red. My cheeks are on fire and my pussy is wet and I am in trouble. I’m downright burning up.

I put the phone on the receiver. I swallow. Tell myself to get a grip.

It's just some random guy who is probably a freakazoid or some loner in the woods. Most likely both.

He is not some hot mountain man like I read about in my romance novels. He's just some guy who's bored in the mountains at Christmas. I don't need my fantasies to be running wild. Not now. Not when a blizzard is ready to burst into Linesworth. Everybody's been talking about it all day. Granddad's worried, which is why we're closing up shop early, and this delivery to Nicholas at cabin number six is going to be my last delivery before I call it quits for Christmas.

"You okay, Pumpkin?" Granddad asks.

I smile extra big, a grin pasted on my face, which I'm hoping suppresses my true emotions, which are all sorts of inappropriate. You know, not the kind of things you discuss with your grandfather. Things like that voice.

That guy on the phone… his voice was all low and growly. You're the sundae.

I swallow. "Oh, I'm fine. I just have an order to get all packaged up."

"Which package did they want?" Granddad asks.

I swallow again. "The biggest," I say. I'm practically drooling in my mind. I can only imagine what his biggest might entail. I mean, I've imagined plenty of times what the biggest package might be like, but imagining is as far as I've gotten, because I've never had the actual luxury of doing any more than imagining.

I'm 22 years old, and I'm living in Linesworth, and I am a virgin, and it's Christmas, and I am single as ever.

So actually, I shouldn't be judging some lonely man in the woods, because I'm pretty much the same. Only instead of a man, I am a woman, and instead of the woods, I am living in my granddad's attic.

Not that that is a depressing situation. I love my granddad, and I love Linesworth, and I love the attic. I've lived there all my life, ever since I was a four-year-old little girl, orphaned.

And my granddad is, well, the best man in the whole damn world, and right now he's looking at me all sorts of worried. Probably because I never have hot pink cheeks when I get off the phone with a customer.

"You okay there?" he asks.

"Totally," I say, overcompensating for all the ways in which I am totally not okay. I am imagining large packages and hot fudge all over my body, whipped cream in places I've never been creamed... well, I have been creamed, but just by my own hand. Not by some growly, bearded man who has a big package, and... focus, Quinn. Get the groceries, get in the car, do the delivery, get back home. Be safe. Be sensible. There is a blizzard coming into Linesworth.

I do what I need to do. I grab a shopping cart and set to work. I start packaging up all the things that need to be packaged. The word package is on repeat in my mind. I keep thinking of packages. Big, thick, meaty packages. Long girth. Crammed full. Stuffed to the brim.



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