His Wild Desire: A Curvy Woman Mountain Man Romance (Rugged Peaks Book 1)

Chapter 8

The harsh blare of my desphone shatters the tranquil daydream. I blink rapidly, the crisp alpine air and whispering pines evaporating in a haze of disappointment as my sleek office swims back into focus.

”You”re a million miles away again,” Aspen remarks with a teasing lilt, watching me knowingly over the rim of her iced coffee.

I huff an exasperated sigh, minimizing the browser window full of real estate listings in the Silverpine area.

”Can you blame me? Just look at this place.” I gesture vaguely at the stark, industrial-chic interior, all polished concrete and cold steel.

Aspen arches one perfectly sculpted brow, following my gaze around the open bullpen filled with a cacophony of furious keyboard tapping and hushed phone conversations. ”It”s an advertising agency, not a yoga retreat. You knew that going in.”

”I know, I know.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to ease the tension building behind my eyes. ”It”s just... ever since my trip to Silverpine, I can”t stop thinking about how much simpler life could be. No corporate rat race, no constant pressure to perform. Just existing. Being present.”

A wistful smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as memories of my blissful sojourn in the Rockies come flooding back—the solitude, the freedom, the way each breath tasted fresher and more invigorating than the last.

Leaning back in my chair, I let my mind drift to the charming mountain home I”d envisioned, all rough-hewn beams and river stone fireplaces surrounded by endless acres of towering pines. It would be the perfect sanctuary to escape the oppressive grind of the city, a place to truly unwind.

”You”ve got it bad, don”t you?” Aspen”s amused voice shatters my reverie.

I blink, my cheeks flushing at the knowing look she levels my way. ”What? No! It”s not like that at all.”

The blatant lie feels clumsy and unconvincing even to my own ears. Of course, I can”t tell Aspen the truth—that my wistful daydreams have as much to do with a certain rugged, blue-eyed mountain man as with the breathtaking scenery. She”d never let me live it down.

”Uh-huh, sure.” She rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. ”Listen, I get the appeal of getting away from it all for a while. Believe me, I”ve fantasized about chucking this soul-sucking corporate hellhole more times than I can count. But do you really want to give all this up?”

My heart squeezes painfully, and I have to tamp down the sudden, inexplicable ache blossoming in my chest. Aspen must sense my melancholy because she leans forward, her features softening into something closer to compassion.

”Look, I”m not trying to harsh your vibe, okay? If this whole mountain woman fantasy is what you want, then I”m behind you one hundred percent. It”s just, well, you”ve worked your ass off clawing your way to the top. And from where I”m sitting, you”ve finally got it all—the high-powered career, the corner office, the big paycheck. Don”t sell yourself short over some vacation fling, you know?”

Her concern seems sincere, but it only exacerbates the nagging sense of discontentment gnawing at me. How can I even begin to explain that despite having achieved all the success and status I”ve spent my life striving for, it feels as hollow and unsatisfying as the sleek, soulless office surrounding me?

I open my mouth to respond, but any reply I could have mustered is cut off by the abrupt squeal of the heavy oak door banging open. Ellison Wentworth, our notoriously demanding and perpetually irritable boss, storms into the bullpen, his bald head glistening with sweat and the veins in his ruddy temples already bulging dangerously.

”Ladies, in my office. We have a situation.”

His gruff bark leaves no room for argument as he disappears back through the doorway. Aspen shoots me a resigned look, her eyes already glazed with the weary acceptance that comes from enduring too many of Wentworth”s legendary tantrums.

Smothering a sigh, I rise from my desk and fall into step beside her, both of us following Wentworth into his oppressively sterile office, the air thick with his signature blend of overpriced cologne and barely concealed rage. Aspen sits beside me on the rigid leather sofa as our boss whirls on us, his jowls quivering.

”You two better have a damn good explanation for why the Kingsbury account is slipping through our fingers!” he bellows, spittle flying from his pursed lips.

My mind races in a desperate attempt to recall the details of the account in question, but I can”t seem to summon any shred of interest or motivation. Across from me, Aspen launches into a flustered explanation, something about misaligned expectations and a breakdown in communication.

But I”m not listening.

Instead, my gaze drifts out the towering wall of glass behind Wentworth”s desk, taking in the sprawling skyline glinting harshly in the midday sun. I used to find the soaring steel and glass monoliths exhilarating, a testament to ambition and achievement.

Now they just feel empty.

”...completely unacceptable!” Wentworth”s voice cuts through my wandering thoughts with the subtlety of a foghorn. ”I want a comprehensive strategy on my desk by morning, or so help me, I”ll have both your jobs!”

His ultimatum hangs in the tense silence, the implied threat of termination usually more than enough to snap me into overdrive. But something has shifted deep within me. The rat race, the cutthroat ladder-climbing, the endless sacrifices for some ephemeral definition of success defined by others...

I”m just so damn tired of it all.

”No.” The single syllable slips from my lips, soft but resolute.

Wentworth freezes mid-tirade, his eyes bugging comically. ”I... what did you just say?”

Rising to my feet, I straighten my spine and meet his gobsmacked stare head-on, a sudden clarity and lightness filling my chest. ”I said no, Ellison. Consider this my resignation, effective immediately.”

A shocked silence hangs in the air, thick and electric. Aspen”s eyes are wide, her perfectly lipsticked mouth forming a little ”o” of disbelief. Even Wentworth seems momentarily struck dumb by my uncharacteristic defiance, his florid face draining of color.

Then, like a petulant child denied a treat, his expression contorts into a mask of rage, the vein in his forehead pulsing alarmingly.

”You impudent little b—”

”Don”t bother,” I cut him off, holding up a hand. ”I won”t be swayed by your empty threats and pathetic tantrums. Not anymore.”

Pivoting on my heel, I stride from his office, the rapid staccato of my heels against the polished concrete echoing through the cavernous lobby with each step. With every breath of fresh air, the weight that”s shackled my soul for so long dissolves, dissipating like morning mist.

Free. I”m finally free.

A giddy laugh bubbles up from deep within as I burst out onto the bustling city sidewalk, my face tilted up to bask in the warm sunshine. I”ve taken the first step toward reclaiming my life, and the possibilities ahead stretch out before me, vast and exhilarating as the peaks and valleys I fell so madly in love with back in Silverpine.

A new beginning, a fresh path forged on my own terms.

”Princess?”

The familiar rumble of that gruff voice sends an electric jolt straight through me. I pivot slowly, every molecule in my body vibrating with a potent mixture of trepidation and reckless hope.

And there he is.

Caleb Stone, larger than life yet somehow even more handsome than I remember. He’s wearing an impeccably tailored suit that only serves to accentuate the raw masculinity he can”t seem to shed, even in the heart of the concrete jungle. Thick waves of black hair are slicked back, but a few unruly tendrils have already escaped to frame those striking blue eyes. He clutches a bouquet of wildflowers, their brilliant hues impossibly vibrant against the drab city backdrop.

The sight of him standing there steals the breath from my lungs in a harsh rush.

”Caleb? What are you...” The words stick in my suddenly dry throat as he takes a halting step forward.

”Emma, I...” He trails off. ”Dammit, I had a whole speech planned, but seeing you here, now, I can”t... I can”t remember any of it.”

He takes another step, closing the distance between us.

”I was so wrapped up in my own little world up there in the mountains that I couldn”t see anything beyond the trees,” he admits. “But you... you blew in like a whirlwind and turned everything I thought I knew on its head.”

A wry chuckle ghosts across his lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners. ”I tried to fight it at first, convinced a city girl like you could never understand the simple life I loved so much. But you surprised me, princess.”

He reaches out then, his fingertips ghosting a featherlight trail down the curve of my cheek. ”Our connection is like nothing I”ve ever felt before. I knew from that first moment when I held you in my arms that you were something special.”

A lump forms in my throat, tears prickling treacherously at the corners of my eyes. He takes my hand, enveloping it in the warm, comforting strength of his grip as his eyes bore into mine with an intensity that leaves me breathless.

”I let you walk away once before, and not a day”s gone by that I haven”t kicked myself for being such a coward. I”m not making that mistake again.” Lifting my knuckles to his lips, he presses a lingering kiss to my skin, his gaze never wavering. ”Give me another chance, Emma. Please.”

The aching vulnerability in his plea breaks through the last of my defenses. A choked laugh bubbles up, giddy and incredulous as my heart swells to capacity.

I launch myself into his arms, the wildflowers crushed between us as my lips crash against his in a searing, desperate kiss. Caleb doesn”t miss a beat, his strong arms banding around me as he returns my fervor with equal passion, our bodies melding together in a way so achingly right it renders all my doubts and fears insignificant.

Catcalls and wolf-whistles from passersby fade into obscurity as we drink each other in, oblivious to anything but the scorching heat that”s been simmering between us since the moment we met. Caleb”s fingers tangle in my hair, holding me impossibly close as our kisses turn deep and searching and hungry, as if making up for every moment we”ve been apart.

When we finally break for air, his forehead rests against mine, his ragged breaths mingling with my own. A grin splits my face, bright and unrestrained and so gloriously wild.

”You”ve got your second chance, hoss,” I murmur. ”Now, let”s go get lost for a while.”