Chapter 1
Paisley
I always thought being stranded in the wilderness would feel different. Terrifying even.
Instead, I’m sitting beside a fire in the middle of the Viridian Mountains, next to Dean, listening to the Etowah River rush through the darkness and the strangest part is that I’m okay.
Not completely. I’m still aware that my phone has no signal. That there’s no road nearby. That my little day trip down the river has turned into a survival lesson.
But the panic I felt when my kayak disappeared is gone, because Dean is here.
The realization should probably bother me more than it does.
I’ve known him for less than a day and somehow, he makes me feel completely safe.
He crouches beside the flames, carefully spinning the fish he caught on a stick.
The wilderness doesn’t intimidate him. The darkness doesn’t make him nervous. He knows which branches will burn, how to position the fire so the smoke doesn’t blow directly into our faces, and how to make a meal out of whatever he can catch in the river. He makes it look so easy.
A breeze moves through the trees, carrying the scent of pine and smoke. My damp hair still smells like river water, and the blanket around my shoulders is scratchy, but I don’t care.
Everything feels sharper out here, the flames spit sparks every time the wind shifts, and the cold finds the damp spots in my hair with eerie precision. But it’s peaceful and quiet.
At home, silence was something I had to deliberately seek out. Here, it surrounds me, effortlessly.
I don’t realize I’m smiling until Dean notices.
“You’re thinking pretty hard over there.”
I look up to find him watching me with an amused expression, one arm resting against his knee.
“Am I?”
“Yeah.”
I glance toward the fire.
“Maybe I’m just trying to figure out how this became my vacation.”
His mouth curves.
“Pretty sure the website didn’t mention sleeping outside,” I tease.
“All part of the VIP package.”
I laugh and the sound feels strange at first. Not because I don’t laugh. I do. But lately, most of my laughter has come with a glance at the clock afterward. A reminder of something I need to do. Somewhere I need to be.
Here, there’s nowhere else to go.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not rushing toward the next thing.
Dean hands me a piece of fish on a stick.
“Careful. It’s hot.”
I accept it, studying the food suspiciously.
“You’re sure this is safe?”
He looks offended.
“I caught it fresh.”
“That’s not exactly a guarantee.”
His dark eyebrows lift and a quiet laugh rumbles from his chest.
“You’re lucky I like you.”
The words are casual, almost teasing but my stomach still flips. I look away before he can see my reaction.
“You barely know me.”
“True.”
The fire pops between us.
“But I know enough.”
Something about the way he says it makes me look back up. Dean isn’t looking at me like I’m a tourist who wandered onto his river. He’s looking at me like I’m someone worth knowing.
“You scared me today,” he says.
The humor disappears from his voice.
My fingers tighten around the stick.
“I know.”
When he found me, I saw it on his face. The fear he tried to hide. The relief when he reached me.
Dean is the kind of person who makes everyone else feel safe. Seeing him scared because of me is something I don’t know how to handle.
“I couldn’t make the kayak turn. I couldn’t stop.”
“You were fighting the river,” he murmurs, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine. I came here because I wanted to escape the noise. I thought I needed distance from everything familiar. But sitting here, listening to the water and feeling the warmth of the fire, I’m realizing maybe I wasn’t looking for an escape.
Maybe I was looking for somewhere I could belong.
The firelight flickers across his face as he reaches over and gently brushes a strand of hair away from my cheek.
His fingers are rough from years of working outside, but they touch me so lightly I barely notice the callouses.
“You’re still cold.”
“I’m okay.”
His mouth tilts like he doesn’t believe me but he doesn’t argue. He just pulls the blanket a little higher around my shoulders. That small gesture affects me more than it should.
When he leans closer, I don’t think about how little time we’ve known each other. I don’t think about how impossible this entire situation is. I just close the distance between us.
The kiss is different from the first one. That one was brimming with excitement and curiosity. Burning brightly with a spark neither of us expected.
This kiss is comforting. Slow and smooth, his lips press against mine with a quiet certainty that makes heat pool low in my belly. His hand slides to my waist, holding me close while the fire warms my face.
I can taste smoke on his lips and feel the warmth of his body even through the blanket.
For the first time since I arrived in Crescent Ridge, I don’t feel like I’m running away.
I feel like I’m finally moving forward.