Lost with the Mountain Man

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

JESSAMY

W ell, that sucked.

Oh, don’t mind me! Just gonna waltz outside into the snow for a bit. Take a little stroll. Maybe throw myself into a freezing lake for kicks. No, no, don’t come with me. I’m fine. Just a full-grown adult throwing an emotional tantrum. Totally fine.

My head pounds in time with my heartbeat, the pressure pulsing behind my temples. I’m warm now, but there’s a hollow, icy knot deep inside me that hasn’t thawed. I’m alive, sure, but…

The chaotic spiral of my thoughts quiets as I claw my way out of a heavy sleep. My lashes flutter open to darkness. There’s something draped over my face—a towel rough against my skin. A faint glow from the fireplace flickers through the edges, and the smell of burning wood is sharp and earthy in the air. My body is warm, but my limbs are heavy and trapped, pinned on all sides.

I squirm, twisting my head until I can hook the towel with my nose and nudge it aside. The faint light reveals my surroundings. I’m on the floor of Malcolm’s cabin, buried under a mountain of blankets, pressed tight between two solid bodies.

Beau is on my left, curled on his side, with his face only inches from mine. His breath stirs my hair as he exhales, his arm draped over me, holding me close. On my right, Malcolm’s arm is wrapped around my waist from behind, his hand broad and steady, resting against my hip.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The faint sound of melting snow outside catches my attention. I glance toward the dim embers in the hearth, trying to gauge the time. It’s pitch-black through the windows, the sun long gone. A few hours since we’ve been here, maybe? Long enough for me to fall asleep. Long enough for both of them to drift off, too.

As I settle back into the cocoon of warmth, Beau’s eyes snap open. “Jess?” he says, alert. He pushes up on his elbow, his gaze searching my face. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”

I shift, taking a quick inventory—wiggling my fingers and toes, feeling the crackle of dryness in my throat. “Okay,” I croak. My voice is hoarse, and I wince at the sound of it. “Stupid. But okay.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“Thirsty.”

Beau twists around, grabbing my glass of water from earlier, still sitting near his discarded bowl of half-eaten stew. “Here,” he says, holding it out. “Slowly.”

I obey, struggling to sit up in the tangle of blankets. The water is warm, but it feels soothing as it trickles down my throat. A few gulps, and I feel partially human again. Embarrassed, but human.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

Beau sets the glass aside and sinks back down beside me, his eyes still watching me intently. “Do you remember anything?” he asks.

“Unfortunately.” I snort.

He smiles, a faint, relieved curve of his lips. “Good.”

“Good?”

“No brain damage.”

“Oh. That is good, I suppose.” I shift again, the towel slipping back over my face. I huff in frustration. “Can we lose the towel, please? Can’t see anything.”

Beau untangles it, along with one of the thicker outer blankets. The cool air brushes against my face, and I inhale deeply, feeling less suffocated.

“Thanks,” I say again, freeing one of my arms. The other is still pinned against my side, caught under layers of warmth and weight.

“I’m sorry, Jessamy.”

His voice is quiet, heavy with emotion. My eyes adjust enough to see his face, the shadows sharpening the lines of exhaustion etched there.

“For what?” I ask. “I’m the moron who walked out onto a frozen lake.”

“Because of me,” he says, the words bitter. “You never would’ve gone out there if I wasn’t such a…” He trails off, his jaw tightening. “I failed you. I’ve failed both of us.”

“What are you talking about, Beau?”

“I froze,” he whispers, the admission raw and painful. “I saw you go through the ice, and I… froze.”

“You were scared,” I say, trying to ease the tension.

“I didn’t know what to do. So, I did nothing.” His gaze drops. “I’m so sorry.”

I lift my hand to his cheek, feeling the rough stubble on my fingertips. His hand brushes against mine as if he’s about to push it away, but he steadies it instead, not wanting to let it go. “It’s all right, Beau. I’m still here.”

“Because of him,” he says, his voice breaking. “Malcolm saved you. Not me.”

“Stop.”

“I’m a coward. I failed you,” he says, meeting my eyes at last. “If Malcolm weren’t here, you?—”

“You wouldn’t have just let me die, Beau,” I interrupt, my voice firm but warm. “You would’ve figured it out. I know you.”

He shakes his head, doubt clouding his expression.

“Remember the car?” I ask. “You tried to get me out first. Remember? That’s not what a coward does.”

“That feels so long ago now,” he says with a sigh. “I’m sorry. You deserve better.”

“Beau. I love you.”

His eyes close, his jaw tightening as if resisting the cue to say it back. “I’m going home in the morning,” he says, his voice flat. “Back to the city where I belong.”

“And what about me?” I ask, a faint smile teasing my lips.

“You belong here,” he says, his gaze softening. “In Kiss County.”

“Beau, shut up.”

“I’ll give you whatever you need. Money. My car. I’ll crawl back to my parents and live out the rest of my miserable, cowardly days.”

“Stop.” My smirk widens. “The emo phase was cute for that week in college, but it’s just sad now.”

Beau doesn’t laugh. “Malcolm will take care of you,” he says, his voice low, defeated. “He’s the man you deserve. Not me.”

“And what did he say when you told him your plan to dump me on his doorstep?”

He doesn’t answer. Of course, he didn’t actually do that. He’s just venting—beating himself up, like he always does when things feel too much.

“Beau.” I run my fingertips along the soft edge of his bottom lip, feeling the slight tremor in his breath as I touch him. “You’re not leaving.”

“But—”

“And I’m not leaving you just because you had a moment of panic in an unfamiliar situation. I love you, Beau.” I smile, my lips trembling. “I wouldn’t be here with you on this fucking mountain if I didn’t.”

Beau’s head drops toward mine, our foreheads meeting in a quiet, shared moment. His breath brushes against my skin as he whispers, “I love you, Jessamy. More than you could ever…”

I squeeze his hand, grounding us both in the silence between his words. “I know.”

He kisses me—barely a whisper of a kiss, as though afraid that if he presses too hard, I might crumble in his hands.

“I think you’re right,” he says, squeezing me back, his voice thick with emotion. “We should come back here.”

My heart leaps in my chest, but I know better than to get my hopes up just yet. “What about your parents?” I ask, testing the waters.

“To hell with them.”

I blink, startled by the force of his words. Truthfully, I didn’t expect him to get there so quickly. “Your job?” I add. “Your inheritance?”

“Fuck that, too,” he says, his gaze never leaving mine, intense and unwavering. “All I need is you. Wherever you want to go, we’ll go together. Just… Christ, don’t scare me like that again, Jess.”

His arms curl around me, pulling me closer—tight enough to smother. All I can do is smile, sinking into the warmth of his embrace.

“If a near-death experience was all it took to snap that umbilical cord, I’d have dived in front of a taxi years ago,” I tease.

Beau laughs, his chest rumbling against mine. “I hate your jokes.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No.” His hands cup my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks, and his eyes gleam in the dark as he gazes at me. “I don’t.”

He kisses me again, soft and careful, like I’m fragile, but I’m stronger than I’ve ever been. Because of him.

Because of us.

I pull my hand from Beau’s and shift it to the thick hand resting on my side. As I touch him, Malcolm’s fingers unfurl, his hand opening to welcome mine. I don’t know how long he’s been awake, how much he’s heard, but I’m grateful he’s here with us.

“Malcolm,” I whisper.

“He was incredible,” Beau says, his gaze still fixed on me. “He knew exactly what to do.”

I feel Malcolm’s thumb stroke over mine, and I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. “He has that quality about him,” I muse. “You know, I think he likes us.”

Beau chuckles. “I think so, too.”

I unwind my hand and reach behind me. Finding Malcolm, his body still pressed against my back, I inch my fingers along his neck. I feel the smooth texture of his skin before pushing my fingers through the thick mass of his black hair, turning my head to look back.

His beard brushes against my ear, my cheek—a shadow of warmth against the cool night air. The scent of him, familiar and comforting, fills my senses. I kiss him, soft and slow, a kiss full of gratitude. Maybe love, too.

In this moment, tangled in blankets and warmth, my heart feels like it could hold so much more than I ever thought possible.

“Malcolm,” I whisper again.

“Jessamy.” His voice rich with affection, a smile tugging at his mouth in the dark. “Are you happy?”

Tears spring to my eyes as I nod. “Yes.”

He presses a kiss to my lips, his mouth warm and urgent. The kiss sends a bolt of heat through my body, melting the last bit of chill clinging to my bones.

“Beau,” I say, pulling away just enough to turn back to him and kiss him.

I kiss both of them. They kiss each other, too.

Lips graze my chin, my neck. Hands tug at my blankets, sliding over the bare skin beneath. I’m locked between them—touched, tasted, lost in the warmth and hunger of them both. I flinch as teeth graze my nipple, a jolt of pleasure shooting through me. I shiver as a single finger slips inside of me, the pressure enough to make me gasp. I coo their names, breathless and trembling, not sure who is doing what, who is touching where. But I don’t care to know. Not here, not now, not in this cabin where time feels suspended, and everything is possible.

Whatever happens, happens.

Beau’s familiar mouth blends with Malcolm’s rough beard, their heads sharing the apex between my thighs. I reach for both of them, gripping their hair, utterly lost with them amid waves of pleasure.

As we drift back to sleep, our bodies tangled together, a web of limbs and blankets, I feel a quiet pinch of sadness.

Tap. Tap. Tap.