Chapter 19 #2
“Don’t we need to head back?” I ask.
“No rush,” he says. “I want to give you the full experience.”
“How do you mean?”
He nods toward the window. “See those people in the café? They’re looking out. Same thing here.”
I grin at him. “I love it.”
He leans back, still watching the street. “Nice little place.”
“It is,” I say, taking it in properly now. “Like something out of a movie.”
“Reminds you of home?”
“Not really,” I say. “I’m used to big city buildings. But when I was a kid… yeah. This is what I dreamed of. Safe. Quiet.”
He’s silent for a beat. “It’s starting to grow on me,” he says at last. “When all this is over, I’d like to take a stroll down the street with you.”
My breath catches, and for a second, I don’t know what to do with that.
I take a sip, letting it sit on my tongue.
“How is it?” he asks.
“It’s perfect.” I sigh. “Coffee and dessert at the same time.”
He wrinkles his nose. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does,” I say. “It’s like having pumpkin pie and coffee together.”
He gives me a look. “Why not just order the pie as well?”
I laugh. “Because sometimes it’s not pie time yet.”
I finish the drink faster than I meant to and set the empty cup in the holder.
He glances at it. “You hungry?”
“Yeah,” I say.
“There’s a drive-thru nearby. Heard it does the best burgers in town.”
I hesitate for a second, picturing it.
He looks at me. “Or we can go somewhere else.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I’d love that.”
A few minutes later, we’re in line behind two other cars.
We place our orders—double cheeseburgers with bacon and onion rings, fries, strawberry milkshakes—and pull forward.
When the food comes, Gunnar passes the bag over to me.
“Hold tight,” he says, and keeps driving.
A moment later, he turns off the road onto a narrow dirt track.
The ground is iced over in places, but the truck handles it easily, climbing through the bends as the road winds up through the pines.
We keep going, deeper in, the trees closing in around us—
then suddenly they fall away.
The view opens up all at once.
We’ve come out onto a lookout.
From here, I can see for miles—snow-dusted ground stretching out under the bright winter sky, the sunlight catching on everything.
“This is amazing,” I say.
He glances at me. “Figured this would be a better place to eat.”
The burgers are ridiculous—greasy, overstuffed, exactly what they should be—and I laugh under my breath as I take another bite.
I shake my head, still smiling.
“Thank you,” I say.
He shrugs it off, but I can see he’s pleased.
And it clicks.
This wasn’t just about getting out of the lodge.
He planned this—the coffee, the town, the food—because he knew what I’d been missing.
“How did you find this place?” I ask.
“Me and the guys used to come here,” he says. “Drink beers. Let off steam.”
I glance at him sideways. “Bring girls here too?”
“No.”
The answer comes instantly.
He’s serious now, in a way that cuts straight through the easy mood.
“What?” I ask.
He studies me.
“You still don’t get it, do you, Alexandria?”
“Get what?”
“That we don’t do that.”
I frown. “Do what?”
“Bring different women up here,” he says. “Or anywhere.” His voice is steady, matter-of-fact. “We don’t date around.”
I go still. “What do you do, then?”
He holds my gaze.
“We find our mate,” he says. “And that’s it.”
The words sit between us, clear and unsoftened.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes straight away. My thoughts scramble, trying to catch up—what he’s saying, what it means.
“And when you meet her,” I manage, “you’re sure?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
“I told you.”
I stare at him, pulse picking up, every part of me aware of him.
All I can think about is how much I want him to kiss me again.
“Gunnar—” I start—
I don’t get to finish, because his mouth is on mine.
He leans over me, holding me tight as he pulls me up into him. The seat’s all the way back, and that massive, powerful body of his is right on top of me. I cling to him, drawing him in.
He kisses me deeper and deeper, and I feel it—hard, unmistakable, pressing through his jeans.
Heat rushes through me.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to drag his mouth down my neck, and I tip my head back without thinking, giving him more space.
His hand moves to my shirt.
Then he stills.
I look at him.
His eyes are darker now, fixed on me, waiting.
“Yes,” I whisper.
That’s all it takes.
He opens my shirt, one button at a time, watching my face as he does it, like he’s giving me the chance to stop him.
I don’t.
His hands slide up under the fabric, rough against my skin, and I grab onto him, pulling him closer as the sensation hits—new, overwhelming, but I don’t want it to stop.
“You like that?”
I nod against him, not trusting my voice.
His hand moves lower, between us, and I go still for a second as he works at the button of my jeans.
Then his hand slips inside.
The first touch makes me suck in a breath. I grip his shoulders harder, trying to steady myself as the sensation spreads.
When his fingertip circles my entrance, I hold my breath. He slides in slowly, slowly, and I clench tight around him.
“Does that feel good, baby?” he growls.
“Yeah,” I manage to gasp in his ear. I press my face into his shoulder as everything starts to build, faster now, sharper, something I’ve never felt before.
He kisses me again, deeper, holding me there as it peaks—
and then it breaks through me all at once.
“Gunnar, I think I’m going to—”
“That’s right, come for me, baby,” he whispers as he works those thick fingers of his in and out.
And I release.
Shuddering, trembling, clinging to him.
He draws it out of me longer and longer, until I’m finally done.
For a second, I don’t move.
Then I lift my head, looking at him.
I want more.
I reach for him, for the heat and the pressure still there between us.
He catches my wrist.
“Not here,” he says.
I frown. “Why?”
He holds my gaze.
“Because when I claim you,” he says, “it’s going to be perfect.”
I swallow. “I don’t care about perfect,” I say quietly. “I just want you.”
There’s something new in his expression—something deeper, more serious.
“You’ve got me,” he says. “All of me. But I want your first time to be what you deserve. Special.”
He laces his fingers into mine and his eyes turn soft, in a way I haven’t seen before. “So you remember it forever.”
I’m still looking at him, still trying to catch up.
He’s already decided.
And I—
Well, I’m right here.
Caught somewhere between what just happened and the way I want him again already.