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)
“Then sign me up to be your slave,” I tease, laughing softly.
“Did we do anything that was too much for you?” His hands gently lift my chin, his eyes searching mine with concern.
“No,” I shake my head, smiling. “I liked it. It felt amazing. I’m not sure what that says about me though.” A flicker of doubt creeps in.
“There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s fucking sexy as hell,” he reassures me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “We can explore more together, whatever feels good for you.”
He pulls me onto his chest, his heartbeat steady against my ear, the warmth of his body wrapping around me like a protective shield. In this moment, with him, I feel completely safe, completely seen.
As we wrap our bodies around each other, I hold onto him, my body arching into his, and he whispers my name like a prayer, his hands gripping me as if he’s afraid to let go.
“Look—” he whispers, “there’s your northern lights.”
I glance out the window to find he’s right. The snow has stopped long enough for a spray of green and pink to wash across the night sky. My heart clenches before I untangle myself from his warm body and cross the space in search of my camera. When I find it, I open the door and quickly begin to snap a few shots of the dancing lights.
Slate chuckles behind me and then wraps a warm blanket around my shoulders. “You’re gonna catch your death out here, woman.”
“Anything for the shot.” I smile up at him. He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose before rubbing his palms up and down my shoulders to generate heat. “And look at you—a true mountain man now wearing just your birthday suit out in the wilderness.”
He grins a sideways grin at me and then spanks my ass in one quick slap. I giggle, rub my cheek with my palm, and then go back to taking a few more pictures. Slate’s arms wrap around my waist, his chin resting on the top of my head as I work. I feel him place a tender kiss at my crown and it nearly melts me into a puddle at his feet. Something like love begins a slow climb in my belly with his gentle touch, but I push it back down.
I have a job to do in Devil’s Peak, and falling for this man all over again isn’t it.
Chapter Eight
Slate
The cabin is quiet, save for the soft crackle of dying embers in the fireplace. The storm outside has finally settled, leaving a muffled silence in its wake, broken only by the occasional drip of melting snow from the eaves. Dawn filters through the frosted window, painting the room in pale, silvery light. The chill of morning seeps into the air, biting through the lingering heat from the fire—and from the night before.
I lie there, barely moving, feeling the warmth of Emma beside me, the curve of her body fitting into mine. Her hair spills across the pillow, a tangle of dark strands that catch the first hint of light, and her lips are parted slightly, a soft breath escaping her with every rise and fall of her chest. For a moment, I let myself just look at her, the reality of her being here, in my arms again, hitting me like a punch to the gut.
But even with her so close, the questions gnaw at me, sharp and insistent. Why did she leave? Why didn’t she think I was worth staying for? The old hurt rises, thick in my throat, turning the sweetness of the moment into something bitter. I pull away slightly, feeling the cold creep in where her warmth was, dragging a hand through my hair, my jaw tight with everything I can’t keep buried any longer.
Emma stirs beside me, her body shifting as she wakes, her eyelids fluttering open. She blinks up at me, still half-lost in the haze of sleep, but when she sees me already sitting up on the edge of the bed, a shadow crosses her expression. She sits up too, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, her gaze searching mine.
“Morning,” she says, her voice soft, tentative, like she’s testing the waters. But I don’t look at her right away. Instead, I stare out the window, watching the last flurries of snow fall gently from the sky, like they hold the answers I need.
I can feel her eyes on me, feel the tension building between us, the same tension that’s been pulling tight since the moment she walked back into my life. When I finally turn to face her, I see the worry in her expression, the way her hands clutch the blanket as if it’s her last line of defense. But I can’t soften. Not now. “Why’d you leave, Emma?” The words come out sharper than I intend, but I don’t take them back. “And don’t give me some vague excuse this time. I want the truth. All of it. I still can’t wrap my head around the decision you made.”