Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Chase
The rescue hut sits on the side of the mountain, tucked against an overgrown outcrop, camouflaged by weathered wood that's been battered in countless wild storms over the years.
I shoulder open the door with ease because there's no lock. These huts are dotted around the mountain, left available in case of emergencies. Over the years, they've helped save more than a few lives, not to mention a few forced proximity romances that have bloomed because of them.
Emergency supplies line the shelves in organized rows. Medical kits. Flares. Water purification tablets. Everything exactly where it should be, because Jamie runs this mountain operation like the experienced military man he is.
A blast of wind howls around the hut, creaking the walls.
She said yes to the dance.
But her mother's voice still echoes in my skull. "Saturday plans." "Her gala gown." "You're a phase."
I shove the dark thoughts away, grabbing what we might need for a comfortable night exposed to the wild and unpredictable elements.
Two thick wool blankets, a bundle of seasoned firewood already split, matches wrapped in waterproof plastic. My hands move on autopilot, gathering supplies while my brain spins in circles.
Maybe Piper's mother is wrong. Maybe Piper really will choose this—choose me—over whatever Chicago expects from her.
Maybe she's not lying when she says she wants to be here.
My hands still on the blanket, because that's what I told myself about Mom, too. Right up until she packed Lily's suitcase and left me standing in an empty house.
I reach for the small storage compartment built into the wall, nearly satisfied with all the supplies that should keep my girl safe.
My girl. She's my girl.
My fingers brush glass as that thought strikes a beat in my chest. I pull out a bottle of whiskey, expensive-looking, with a handwritten label stuck to it: Emergency Use Only.
I smile. Jamie knows the people of this mountain too well.
When in doubt, drink whiskey.
I tuck the bottle under my arm with the blankets and firewood, taking one last look around the hut. Everything's in order. Everything's ready.
Just like I'm trying to be.
The walk back to the lookout takes maybe ten minutes, but each step feels weighted. The sun's dropping fast now, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose that make the whole world look like it's on fire.
Piper's exactly where I left her, sitting on the picnic blanket with her knees drawn up, staring out at the valley below. The dying light catches her blonde hair, turning it gold.
She's so beautiful it physically hurts.
"Hey, baby." I drop the supplies beside the blanket. "Got everything we need."
She turns, and her smile does that thing to my chest. The squeeze that makes breathing difficult.
"Including…" She nods at the bottle. "…contraband whiskey?"
"Jamie's emergency stash. He won't mind." I start arranging the firewood in the stone ring that's been here for decades. "Figure watching the sunset with you qualifies as an emergency."
I get the fire going, coaxing the kindling to catch while the sky bleeds from amber to deep purple. The temperature drops fast up here once the sun disappears, and I watch Piper shiver despite her hoodie.
"Come here." I settle onto the blanket and open my arms.
She doesn't hesitate. Just crawls into my lap, tucking herself against my chest while I wrap us both in the wool blanket.
"Better?"
"Mmm." She nuzzles into my neck. "Much."
The fire crackles as stars slowly start to appear, one by one, like someone's turning on lights across the sky.
I hold Piper close and try to memorize everything just in case this is our last night together. I let myself feel the weight of her against me, the scent of her shampoo, the way her breath warms my throat.
Then, as darkness falls over the mountain and the flames of the fire dance before our eyes, a striking thought hits me. A thought I haven't had about another human being in years.
I'm in love with her.
I love her.
It's not a question. Not a maybe.
It's an absolute certainty, terrifying and exhilarating and completely, utterly inevitable.
I've known since that first weekend when she climbed into my truck wearing my flannel and looking at me like I was someone worth choosing. Known since she studied wildflowers just to impress me. Known since she showed up at that chili cook-off and dove into the chaos without hesitation.
I love her.
And she's leaving.
They always leave.
"Chase?" Piper tilts her head back to look at me. "What are you thinking about?"
I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. "Just thinking."
"Tell me."
About how I want to keep you. About how terrified I am that I can't.
"About how lucky I am," I say instead. "That you're here. With me. Enjoying this."
Her eyes go soft, and she shifts in my lap to face me properly, straddling my thighs. The blanket falls away, but she doesn't seem to notice the cold.
"Chase Morrison." She frames my face with her hands. "You're not lucky. You're just... you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're kind, and funny, and you make me feel like I can just be." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Like I'm home."
Don't say it. Don't fucking say it.
I kiss her instead, pouring everything I can't say into the press of my mouth against hers. She makes a soft sound and opens for me, her tongue sliding against mine while her fingers thread through my hair.
The kiss deepens, then because my heart is racing, it quickly turns urgent.
Her hips rock against me, and I'm already hard, already aching for her.
"Piper." I break away, breathing hard. "Baby, we should—"
"Don't." She bites my lower lip, just hard enough to sting. "Don't think, Chase. Not tonight. Just feel."
Her hand slides between us, finding the bulge in my jeans and squeezing. I groan, my head falling back as she strokes me through the denim.
"You're killing me."
"Good." She works my zipper down, and then her fingers are wrapping around my cock, skin on skin, and I nearly lose it right there.
I grab her wrist, stilling her movements. "Wait."
"Why?"
I don't answer. Just slide my free hand down the front of her jeans, past the waistband of her silky underwear, until I'm cupping her pussy.
"Oh God." Her eyes flutter closed.
"Look at me." I circle her clit with two fingers, rubbing slowly, watching her face the entire time. "Eyes on me, Piper."
She forces them open, and the blue is almost black with desire. I slide two fingers inside her entrance, only just. She's so wet, so ready, that it takes every ounce of control not to just throw her down and bury myself in her.
I slide my fingers deeper, just a fraction more. Her inner walls flutter around me, wet and hotter than the fire at our backs.
"That's it," I murmur against her neck. "Let me feel you."
She moans, a low sound that vibrates against my lips as I kiss her neck. Her hand tightens around my cock, her thumb swiping over the head where pre-cum beads.
"Chase—"
"Right here." I curl my fingers, finding that sweet spot inside her. Her hips jerk, seeking more. But I keep the rhythm slow, maddening. Matching the lazy circles her thumb is making on me. "Feel good?"
"Too good." Her breath hitches as I scrape my teeth along her pulse point. "Don't stop. Please…"
"Please what?"
"More. I need—" She breaks off with a moan as I curl my fingers, finding another spot that makes her shake. "Oh fuck, yes, oh yes, right there."
I work her slowly, building the pressure while she writhes in my lap. Her free hand clutches my shoulder, nails digging in through my shirt, and I love it.
Love every desperate sound she makes, every tremor that runs through her body.
I love her.
The stars are fully out now, a canopy of light stretching endlessly above us. The fire dances shadows across her face, and she's never been more beautiful than she is right now.
I love you.
The words are right there, pressing against my throat, begging to be spoken.
But the napkin flashes in my mind. The one I signed with a heart over the 'i' in her name. No Strings. No Feelings.
I sealed my own fate with that stupid agreement.
So instead, I lean forward and bite down on her neck again, just below her ear, while my fingers pump into her faster. She gasps, her hand tightening around my cock, and I can feel her getting close.
"That's it, baby." I suck a mark into her skin, claiming her in the only way I can. She might be leaving tomorrow, but if I bite hard enough, she'll still see me. "Let go for me."
"Chase, I—" Her words dissolve into a cry as she comes, clenching around my fingers, her whole body going taut.
I work her through it, swirling my fingers over her clit, feeling her body shudder on top of me, her release gentling my movements as the aftershocks roll through her.
When she finally sags against me, I withdraw my hand and bring my fingers to my mouth, swirling my tongue over the fresh creamy nectar, tasting her while she watches with heavy-lidded eyes.
"You're going to be the death of me," she breathes.
She tugs at my shirt, and I help her pull it over my head. The night air hits my skin, freezing cold, but her hands are warm as they roam across my chest, tracing the lines of muscle earned from years of rescue work.
"Lie down," she whispers.
I kiss her and lay back, stretching out on the blanket while she stands and shimmies out of her jeans and underwear.
She stands naked against the firelight, all pale curves and moving shadows. That perfect fucking ass, round and soft, taunting me from above. I can see the glistening wetness between her legs, the soft lips of her pussy just begging to be spread and devoured.
My cock throbs, aching to be inside her.
She strips off her hoodie and shirt, and I drink in the sight of her, reaching for my own cock.
"Like the view?" she asks, turning on the spot, giving me a better show than the twinkling stars. The moonlight catches the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist.