CHAPTER FOUR
Blake
I’d forgotten what it felt like to want to smile.
On this mountain, I’d gotten used to the silence, the solitude, the absence of anything that might crack the stone wall I’d built around what was left of my heart.
But watching Sadie explore my garage, seeing the genuine interest in her eyes when she looked at my work, hearing her ramble about everything and nothing—it stirred something I thought was dead.
She made me want to smile. Almost.
The closest I’d come was when she’d started babbling about not being a nuisance, words tumbling over each other in her nervousness.
Something about the way she fidgeted and flustered made my chest tight in a way that had nothing to do with wanting to drag her into my lap, shove her legs open, and lick that nervousness right out of her until she was shaking apart in my arms.
Now we sat on my front porch, with her curled up in one of the wooden chairs I’d built last winter, a glass of lemonade in her hands. The afternoon sun caught the highlights in her dark hair. She tucked a strand behind her ear in a gesture that was becoming dangerously familiar.
I wanted to be the one to tuck it behind her ear, then cup the back of her neck and drag her in until she was breathless against my mouth.
I wanted to feel her shiver when my thumb grazed her skin.
I wanted to tilt her chin up, slip my tongue past her lips, and taste the sweet lemonade right from her mouth.
Fuck.
I was in trouble. Deep, bone-deep trouble with this woman who’d stumbled into my life less than twenty-four hours ago.
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “So, what do you do on a romantic weekend getaway on the mountain?”
She choked on her lemonade, coughing and sputtering. “What?”
The reaction was so unexpected, so genuine, that I felt that almost-smile tug at my mouth again. “You said this was supposed to be romantic. What did you have planned?”
“I really didn’t have anything planned. Honestly, it was his idea to come, not mine. I had already planned my weekend. Grocery shopping and reading to avoid cleaning my house.” She looked at me and smiled. “I’m a really exciting person.”
A low growl rose inside me. I could tell she lacked confidence in herself.
I didn’t know if it was from her jackass ex—because the man who had left her on the side of a mountain would never come near her again—or if it went deeper than that.
Right then, I made a vow to myself to show her exactly the kind of woman she was.
One that made my dick hard and could easily bring me to my knees.
One that deserved to be worshipped, teased, fucked until she couldn’t remember her own doubts.
She glanced at me from beneath her long lashes. “Have you ever been on a romantic weekend?”
There was a tentative tone beneath her bravado, and I smiled to myself. Progress already and I hadn’t done anything but touch her cheek. I couldn’t wait until I brought out the bad girl inside her.
I had plans for that bad girl. And the sweet girl too. And every one of them involved my mouth on her pussy or my cock inside her.
“Never had the desire.”
Until now.
I wanted to show her everything about my mountain.
I wanted to take her to the clearing where the wildflowers grew thick in summer.
I wanted to show her the stream where the water ran so clear you could see straight to the bottom.
I wanted to watch her face when she saw the view from the ridge at sunset.
I wanted to let her in.
The emotion was new and foreign, unsettling in its intensity. Ever since I’d moved here, I’d guarded my solitude like a jealous lover. This mountain was my sanctuary, my escape from the world. I didn’t share it. I didn’t share anything.
But looking at Sadie, seeing the way she’d looked at my work with such genuine appreciation, hearing her talk about writing like it was something precious she’d lost—I wanted to give her pieces of myself I’d forgotten existed.
“So what do we do?” she asked, and there was something shy in her voice, something hopeful that made my chest clench.
“We could hike,” I said, watching her face for any sign of reluctance. “There’s a trail that leads to a waterfall about a mile from here. Easy walk, good view.”
Her face lit up. “Really? You’d want to do that?”
I’d want to do anything if it means spending more time with you.
“Yeah.”
She grinned, and it was like watching the sun come out from behind the clouds. “That sounds perfect.”
Perfect. When was the last time anything in my life had been perfect?
“Let me go grab a jacket,” she said, already standing. “You know, just in case I get stranded again.”
“Not on my watch,” I growled.
Her flush made me ache to see her naked, with my hand between her thighs and her nails digging into my shoulders. Damn, I was about to come in my pants from just a wayward thought.
I watched her disappear into the cabin, my hands clenched on the arms of my chair. This was dangerous territory. Every minute I spent with her, every smile she gave me, every time she looked at me—it was breaking down walls I’d spent years building.
But I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
I walked into the kitchen and grabbed my backpack. I kept it ready out of habit. She walked out of my bedroom, smiling, and I felt that unfamiliar tug in my chest again.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Ready.”
I led her around the side of the cabin, her presence beside me filling an empty spot I didn’t know was there.
Or hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. She was close enough that I could smell her shampoo, something light and floral that reminded me of summer mornings.
Close enough that every step had me imagining bending her over the nearest tree, that floral scent mixing with the taste of her arousal.
Her skin was warm and soft under my palm, and I had to force myself to let go.
“Thanks,” she said, slightly breathless.
“Careful.”
“I will be. I promise not to twist anything else while I’m here.”
“Good.” It came out flat, but underneath it pulsed with meaning I had no business giving away.
We walked in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds were our footsteps on the trail and the rustle of wind through the trees.
The path was well-maintained—I’d cleared it myself over the years—and it wound through stands of pine and oak before opening up to reveal glimpses of the valley below.
“God, it’s beautiful up here,” Sadie said, stopping to look out over the view. “How do you ever get anything done with scenery like this?”
That made me smile. “You kind of push it to the background. But you never get use to it. There’s always something new you’ve never seen before.”
She laughed. “Yeah, like a bickering couple disturbing your peace and quiet.”
“I’m glad they did.”
She turned to look at me, something searching in her expression. “Do you ever get lonely?”
The question caught me off guard. “No.”
“I think I’d like it. The quiet, I mean. I’ve always been better on my own anyway. People are... complicated.”
You get it.
The thought was so clear, so certain, it stopped me in my tracks.
“Blake? You okay?”
I looked at her—really looked at her. The way her lips parted slightly when she was concerned, the way she watched me. The sight made me want to close the distance, drag my tongue across that mouth, and swallow every sound she made.
“Yeah,” I said roughly. “I’m okay.”
But I wasn’t. I was falling, and hard, for a woman who’d been in my life for less than a day. A woman who belonged in the city, not on my mountain. A woman who deserved better than a broken man who’d run away from the world.
And I didn’t know how to stop it.
“Come on,” I said, starting up the trail again. “Waterfall’s just ahead.”
But as we walked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking toward something that would change everything.