His Big Pipe: Deepwood Mountain

By Lexi Hayes

He's a big grumpy mountain man who prefers his peace and quiet.

And I'm his noisy new neighbor.

 

My favorite grandmother leaves me enough money in her will to start over from a laundry list of my failed ventures. 

So when the Deepwood Inn comes up for sale, I jump at the opportunity to finally do something to make her proud.

Too bad I'm in way over my head.

As the problems stack up, my hopes of running a successful B&B turn into a nightmare.

Now I'm low on funds, and Sully O'Neill, the hot older grump of a plumber next door, is on a warpath.

If only I could get him to fix my pipes instead of grumbling about all the racket. 

But when he finds out I can cook, we strike up a deal.

And it comes with more benefits than just laying the pipe at the Inn. 

Yet, can a connection built on dumplings keep a surly recluse and a social butterfly together…forever?

 

Welcome to Deepwood Mountain, Montana, a small town where six best friends with big dreams went from blue-collar bad boys to big shot millionaires. But you know what they say about success… it's lonely at the top. All these men need is a woman to claim, protect, and treat like a queen. Are you ready for the mountain men of Deepwood?

 

His Big Pipe is a short, steamy, instalove romance with a determined but slightly scatterbrained heroine and a hunky grouch of a hero that find solace in Chinese food, well laid pipes, and each other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: No Regerts Press, LLC
• Release date: Jun 30, 2024
• ISBN: 9781957933078

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

SULLY

Six letter word for collide with.

The sun bounces balls of light off the gentle waves of Deepwood Lake as I squint down at my phone. I don't need my glasses to see the crossword puzzle. It’s just really bright out here, that’s all.

Impact.

I type the answer into the boxes, much too slowly. Fine, I’ll go and get my glasses.

When I come back out, I settle into the new Adirondack chair my buddy Logan made for me and grab a slice of my lunch. Frozen pizza. Again.

How can something be mushy and stale at the same time? Not to mention bland.

Yuck. I toss it back on the plate. Maybe I should learn how to cook?

Right. I burn toast.

Birds chirp as they flit through the trees and a group of ducks swim across the water. It’s the kind of day I built this house for. Sunny and peaceful…the only sounds from the animals, the water, and the wind.

I lean back in the chair and close my eyes.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

The birds and ducks take flight in a flurry of chaos.

Goddammit! I bark, jumping up.

The noise comes from the Deepwood Inn on the property next to mine. Ever since that new woman bought it two weeks ago, she’s been renovating at all hours of the day.

I’ve already left two strongly worded notes on her door to keep it down.

This racket is getting old.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Jeesus.

That’s it! I’m going over there. I tug on my baseball cap and trudge through the forest toward the Inn.

With each step and each noise getting louder, the more angry I get.

When I finally reach the front door, I’m fuming, ready to give her a piece of my mind. And a few additional choice words.

I raise my fist to knock.

The tell-tale sound of rushing water comes from inside.

Nooooooo! Stop! Shit!! A woman yells, and then there’s more banging.

Pipes.

I pound on the door. Hello! Are you okay in there?

Help! she cries, and screw it, I barge into the front room. I can hear her and the water off to a room on the left. Probably the kitchen.

I burst through the doorway.

The woman is drenched from head to toe and desperately holding onto the faucet as it sprays water in every direction over the room. Everything’s wet - the floor, the counter, the windows.

But even sopping wet, this woman is stunning. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

I’m frozen in place.

Long black hair, petite frame, sweet little tits, and a mere handful of ass.

A little help here! she yells over the sound of the water, when she sees me.

Where’s the main water shut-off? I holler, shaking off my surprise.

Basement! Ack! She gets another spray in the face. Straight back and to the right.

I follow her directions and fly down the stairs to the basement to shut off the water. I bound back up, taking four steps at a time, and find her leaning over the sink. She pushes her wet hair from her face, body heaving with her ragged breath.

Thank you, she says, turning to face me. She blinks rapidly, droplets of water on her eyelashes, lips parted. I can only gaze back at her.

When she finally tears her eyes away from me, she