4. Dane
4
DANE
It takes me a long time to fall asleep that night. I toss and turn for hours, my head full of Celeste, replaying every moment of our meeting—the way her eyes widened, cheeks pinkening as she looked down at my body. The memory of her curves is enough to make my cock throb, my body aching with an unfamiliar longing.
It doesn’t make any fucking sense.
I’ve spent all of about twenty minutes with this girl, yet she’s already in my veins, sizzling beneath my skin. I’ve never felt this way before. Growing up on Cherry Mountain meant my adolescence was pretty isolated, and while other kids were out partying, Weston and I kept to the forest, exploring every inch of Cherry Mountain while our peers explored each other’s bodies. It suited us just fine. Then when I left to join the Army, I devoted myself to my service, refusing to be distracted by love or relationships. Hell, I was never even tempted. I figured all that shit just wasn’t meant for a guy like me.
And then Celeste walked in.
As soon as I laid eyes on her, it was like my body was shocked to life, flooded with desires I’ve never felt before in all my forty-two years. And now I don’t know what the hell I’m meant to do. She’s a beautiful young twenty-something who lives in Denver; I’m a scarred old grump who lives in the mountains. An angel like her would never want me, and that’s a damn fact. So what am I meant to do with these crazy feelings that seem to be taking over my brain?
Dawn is already breaking outside my window when I finally drift off, and I wake up five hours later, groggy and pissed off. I’m usually an early riser, but it’s almost midday, and I down a strong black coffee before throwing on some clothes and heading into the forest. Chopping wood always helps when I’m frustrated. There’s something cathartic about slamming my axe against the rough bark of a tree, whacking it with all my strength until I hear that satisfying creak before it tumbles to the ground. It’s the only thing that can clear my head. But as I stalk through the forest, I find myself drifting closer and closer to Brody’s cabin.
Just a glimpse…
That’s all I need…just a glimpse of Celeste.
I follow the winding creek toward the cabin, slipping through the cover of trees to avoid being seen. Brody’s pickup is still parked out front, but there’s no sign of his sister. I’d hoped she might be outside enjoying the sunshine, but the clearing is quiet as I stare at the cabin, my heart thudding like a drumbeat.
She’s in there right now.
So close to me.
I don’t know how long I stand there, my gaze locked on the cabin like a man possessed. But suddenly, the front door swings open. I snap back to reality, hastily retreating behind a thick fir tree as Celeste steps outside.
Holy shit.
The sight of her sets my nerves on fire, desire flooding through me. She looks even more beautiful than yesterday. A light blue summer dress hugs her curves, showing off the creamy skin of her legs as she walks with purpose through the trees. The sunlight catches her hair, and it shines like pale gold, tumbling down her back as she passes my hiding place, a small box clasped between her hands.
Where is she going?
Instinctively, I start to follow her through the trees. Despite my size, I know how to keep quiet, and my movements are silent as I trail Celeste back the way I just came. After a few minutes of walking, I realize with a jolt of surprise that she’s heading for my cabin, taking the same path we walked together yesterday. When she finally reaches my front door, I stay back, listening as she raps her fist against it. I wait for a few moments, my breath hitching before I finally emerge from the trees.
“Oh,” she says, turning to face me. “Hi!”
“Hey. I heard you knocking.” It’s not a lie exactly. I’m just omitting the part where I followed her all the way back here.
“Yeah. I brought you a pie.” Celeste’s pretty face lights up as she speaks. “The tree blocking the road is gone, so Brody took me to Cherry Hollow for brunch and I grabbed this from the bakery…it’s to apologize again for yesterday, and to say thank you.”
Now that I’m closer, I recognize the box. It’s from Buttercup Bakery, the familiar logo stamped on the top.
Dammit, she’s so sweet.
“Thanks,” I tell her as she hands me the box. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She shrugs, smiling softly. “It’s okay, I wanted to.”
We look at each other for a beat too long, the air molasses-thick around us. Just being in her presence is enough to steal the breath from my lungs, my body forgetting how to function.
“You, uh…you want to come in?” I ask, nodding toward my cabin. “I’ll cut you some pie.”
For a second, Celeste looks torn, and her brow furrows as she looks back the way she came.
“I’d love to,” she says, “but I told Brody I wouldn’t be gone long. He wasn’t crazy about the idea of me walking through the woods by myself again. I had to promise him like five times that I remembered the way to your place.”
I grunt. “He sounds pretty protective.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Celeste chuckles, shaking her head. “He has his reasons, though.”
I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t, and I think back to when I met Brody, the flicker of distrust in his eyes when we shook hands. It’s an expression I’m used to. People see my scars and make assumptions. They think I’m a dangerous man who’s lived a dangerous life, and their instinct is to stay away. Doesn’t matter that I’m just a veteran trying to mind his own damn business; they take one look and think they know me. I stopped giving a shit a long time ago, but with Celeste, it’s different.
I care what she thinks.
I care a hell of a lot.
“Stay a couple of minutes,” I tell her. “Your brother can’t stop you from having a slice of pie.”
Celeste bites her lip, and slowly, her hesitation melts into a smile. “A slice of pie sounds good.”
There are a million reasons I shouldn’t be inviting her in. She’s too damn young. Too sweet. She lives two hundred miles away…
But all of that fades the second I look into her eyes.
Logic doesn’t mean shit when my heart is thudding like a jackhammer, my body pulled taut with desire.
Nothing else matters but her—Celeste.
Not the years between us.
Not the distance.
And especially not her overprotective brother.