Chapter 5
FIVE
INDIGO
A week into my stay at Moonridge Lodge, a thought wormed its way into my head as I sipped coffee on the cabin porch. I was content, happy even. My humdrum life in the city had been replaced by snowfall, short hikes with Riven, afternoons in the library, and meals we cooked together.
Not that I could cook, but I could wield a knife.
I should have been counting the days until I could return to my real life. Instead, I was looking forward to what Riven and I would do from morning to night. And hoping that what we had might evolve into something else.
I’d finished my daily phone call with Agent Fairbanks. Whenever we spoke he asked about the people at the resort and wondered how they treated me. But apart from everyone being curious, there was nothing unusual about them. And besides, Riven was always at my side.
Footsteps crushing the snow announced Riven's arrival from his morning run. "You're up early." He bounded up the porch steps.
There was a dusting of pink on his cheeks, and I crossed my legs, hoping to hide my arousal.
I couldn’t help being attracted to him, and though he was friendly—there hadn’t been another incident when he acted as if he’d been burned when I touched him—he’d never overstepped the boundary between security guy and client.
I wished he would just once so I could hold onto the memory when I left.
“Thought I'd catch one of those sunrises you're always going on about.” I looked out toward the mountains. “And I’ve made coffee.”
“You're my favorite person this morning.” How I wished I was his favorite every minute of every day. He squeezed my shoulder as he passed, and I sat up straight. Where he’d put his hand tingled and sent a message to my length. Thank gods he’d gone inside.
After my erection subsided, I wandered inside and asked about our plans for the day.
“I thought we might check out the old trapper's cabin.” He leaned against the counter. “It's a short hike, but there are no steep climbs. The historical society turned it into a small museum.”
“Historical society? Out here?”
He laughed. “There's a lot of interesting local history.”
“Okay.” I finished my coffee. “As long as there's no pop quiz afterward.”
An hour later, as we made our way along a path that was too narrow for us to walk side by side, I thought about Riven’s connection to the land and the people who lived here. I’d never yearned for that, but how he talked about them had me longing for something similar.
I yanked my thoughts away from imagining living a life here with him. It was an amazing place to visit, but I’d never belong to it as he did. And he’d told me how he rushed back after college, so he wasn’t leaving.
I had to soak up this experience. My heart wanted more, but even if something happened between us, this was a holiday romance. Something to remember fondly as the years passed and maybe tell the grandkids about.
The trail opened up to a small clearing, and in the center stood a log cabin.
“The trapper's cabin.” Riven strode forward.
“It’s tiny.” I examined the carvings around the door and ran my fingers over trees, mountains, and wolves sculpted into the wood.
“People were smaller back then.” Riven winked.
I swiveled my head toward him, unsure if he was joking. With the mountains in the distance, us surrounded by tall trees, and the small cottage, this could be a fairy tale. But something bad always happened in those stories, so I let Riven enter the cabin first.
The interior was simple and contained old traps, tools, photographs, and handwritten journals protected behind glass.
“Local families donated most of these.” Riven moved around the space, explaining the purpose of each item.
I studied a display of old photographs. “Oh, look at this one.” I pointed to a faded image of a man standing beside a massive wolf. “Did people hunt the local wolves?” I thought back to the howling on my first or second night.
“Not hunting.”
His gruff tone, accompanied by flared nostrils and pursed lips, suggested I’d offended him. But it was his eyes that got my attention. I could have sworn that though he was standing beside me, his mind was a million miles away.
But the moment passed, and we settled on a bench outside to eat the lunch Riven had packed.
“Most witness protection doesn't include gourmet picnics.” Not that I’d ever been in the program before.
“Just doing my job.” His gaze locked on mine, getting my hopes up that maybe… his heart might be reacting as mine was. I inched my hand toward his over the bench just as snow started to fall, and he broke the spell by saying we had to get back.
When we reached the main lodge, the snowfall was heavy, with flakes clinging to our hair. I went to brush them off Riven, but Antonia appeared. Damn. His friends and colleagues were always popping up when you didn’t want them.
“There you are! We were wondering if you'd make it back before the storm picked up.”
A group of lodge staff passed through the lobby, all pausing when they saw us. One of the younger men approached us.
“Alpha Apparent,” he greeted Riven. Turning his attention to me, he dipped his head.
Riven stiffened. “Chase. How's the maintenance on Cabin Eight coming along?”
“Nearly finished.” His eyes remained on me. “The pipes were more damaged than we thought, but nothing we couldn't handle.”
"Good." He gave a small nod. Chase and the others moved toward the staff entrance, but they cast backward glances at us.
“Alpha?” I teased. “Is that some kind of lodge nickname?” I’d never been called Omega anything. And what was the ‘apparent’ about, ‘cause he was an alpha, not becoming one.
“It’s nothing. When my uncle… passes, the lodge and the land will be mine.”
He was the boss-in-waiting, similar to a crown prince. Perhaps he had a crown stashed away in a back room.
“Is that what you want?”
He hesitated. “Absolutely. But sometimes I wonder what would happen if I chose my future instead of following the path laid out for me.”
His wistful voice reminded me of the wolves’ nighttime howling.
The storm had eased, so we made our way home. Not really home, but it was for now.
“It reminds me of a snow globe I had as a kid.”
Riven took my arm, as the path was slippery and he said he didn’t want me to fall.
“But I have you, so I’m not worried.”
He paused, brushing snowflakes from my cheek, and he rubbed his thumb over my jaw. Heat streamed through my veins, enough to thaw the ice and snow surrounding us.
“You do have me.”
My chest heaved against him, and he lowered his face so it was an inch from mine.
“I've been wanting to do this since you walked into the lodge.” Tremors wracked my body but not from the cold.
I pulled his mouth on mine, and I melted into the kiss while gripping the front of his jacket.
The world around us vanished as his tongue asked permission to pry my lips apart, and even in the cold, his body radiated heat.
When the kiss ended, I had trouble catching my breath, and my mind raced. Did that just happen? Now came the awkward part. What did I say after the most amazing kiss?
“I've been wanting to do that too,” he admitted, and he placed a more gentle kiss on my lips. “We should get back to the cabin before we freeze.”
But neither of us moved. His hand was against my throat while I still clutched his jacket, as if pulling apart would somehow break the spell because this place and Riven had me thinking of magic.
After what could have been minutes or hours, he kept hold of my hand, saying we didn’t have far to go.
“Home.” That popped out. I hadn’t intended to say it, but that was what it was.
“Yeah.”
We brushed the snow off and stamped our feet at the door, and when inside, Riven added logs and stoked the fire. I touched my lips, trying to imprint the memory of his kiss.
A week ago, he'd been a stranger. Now I couldn't imagine not having him in my life.
“This is all very... unexpected.” I finally broke the silence.
Riven’s serious expression tweaked my anxiety. He was going to say it was a mistake. That we should never have kissed and it wouldn’t happen again.
“I know. It's not standard witness protection protocol.”
That was an understatement. “I'm pretty sure ‘don't kiss the witness' is rule number one in the witsec handbook.”
He sighed, and I longed to brush away whatever doubts he had.
“Probably right after ‘don't develop feelings for the witness.’”
The words slammed into me, leaving me short of breath. Feelings. He had them. Did they match my own?
“Indigo, I sensed something the moment you walked through the lodge doors. I've been fighting it ever since.”
No, no, don't fight them. Welcome them. I wanted to pummel those doubts out of him.
“Don’t.”
He rested his brow on mine, his cool breath with a hint of peppermint wafting over me. “Because you're here temporarily, and there are things about me that you don't know.”
What things? I hadn’t seen him naked. Did he have a small dick? I had a right to know. “Tell me.” Or he could show me.
He rubbed his forehead. “It's not that simple.”
If he had a husband sequestered somewhere that he’d hidden from me, I’d back off, because I refused to break up a marriage.
Riven released my hands to cup my face. “You have no idea how much I have to explain.”
He kissed me again, with a hunger that matched my own. My hands were in his hair, and he growled, igniting a fire in my belly.
When we separated, we were both breathing hard.
“I should…” He cleared his throat. “We should probably slow down.”
Damn. I wanted to rip my clothes off and offer him my hole. But maybe he was right.
“Okay.”