Chapter 23
M ac walked beside her, the dock behind them fading into the dark. She shivered. The lake water still clung to their skin.
He didn't lead her toward his cabin door. Instead, he veered around the side, past the stacked firewood and the old shovel leaning against the wall.
Behind his home, he stopped at the garbage can, undid the bear-proof latching, and tossed in the used condom. Then, he walked her across the backyard.
Firelight glimmered low and steady, casting a glow over the immediate area.
Lauren gasped softly beside him.
The round wooden tub sat nestled in a ring of stones, steam curling from its surface like a warm breath on a frosty morning. A small fire crackled beside it, feeding heat through a coil of copper pipe that heated the water.
Two years ago, he'd spent a whole summer building the hot tub, unsure if it would work as well as he'd hoped. Prepping the fire, filling the tub, and waiting for the water to heat were time-consuming.
But having Lauren here to enjoy it made the work worth it.
The glow lit her face in amber, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders. She was so damn beautiful.
"You built this?" she asked, voice hushed.
Mac nodded. "I use it more in the winter when I have more time and the snow is falling around me."
She stepped closer, shivering. "I can't believe this is real. You have no electricity."
"There are ways around everything." He rocked back on his boots. "I was on my way to find you. To see if you wanted to soak. Then I saw you on the dock."
"And you forgot?"
"Something like that," he muttered.
"You know..." She hugged her towel around her. "I am freezing."
He lifted his chin, motioning her forward. "I'll help you get in."
She hesitated, glancing down at her wet swimsuit in her hand. "I can't imagine putting my cold, wet suit back on."
Mac leaned against the rim of the tub, arms crossed. "Jetter's over at Beckett's cabin. They're making homemade ice cream. He won't be back for a couple of hours."
Her shoulders relaxed. "So, no one's going to see me?"
"No one but me."
"I don't know why I'm worrying, seeing as how the whole campsite probably witnessed us on the dock." She looked at him, eyes searching, then slowly reached for the hem of her dress.
He stepped forward, helping her get undressed again. His fingers brushed her skin. Her goosebumps tingled. He held her hand as she climbed the three steps.
"There's a seat that goes all around the tub. Step on it and lower yourself down."
The water enveloped her, and she let out a sound that was half sigh, half moan. The sight of her head going back and her mouth opening hit him low, and his cock pulsed, letting him know that it could rise to the occasion and get the job done.
Mac chuckled. "Almost as good as sex?"
She leaned back, eyes closed, steam rising around her. "Almost."
"Good answer." He kicked off his boots, stripped off his jeans, and stepped into the tub, sitting across from her. The heat eased the chill from his bones, softening everything so he could think.
And in the quiet, Mac admitted to himself he liked having her around.
The water lapped gently against the sides of the tub, steam rising into the night air, circling them.
He'd spent many nights sitting in the tub, easing the aches out of his body.
But it was different sharing the time with someone else.
He leaned back and stretched his arms along the rim of the tub.
The stars were scattered across the sky like they'd been flung there by hand.
Lauren sat across from him, her knees drawn up, her hair damp and curling at the ends. Her skin glowed under the moon, and her gaze drifted lazily over the treetops.
It was quiet.
The kind of quiet he loved.
The kind that wrapped around him. That's what he always liked about living in the mountains. He could stand outside, look in all four directions, and see nothing but peak after peak.
City people often commented that the mountains surrounding the campground were claustrophobic, and while beautiful, they only reserved a spot for a week at a time. But for him, it was as if the land was hugging him, holding him. He'd never survive long on flat ground.
The Bitterroot Mountain Range was home. When Jetter was with him, they were safe within the peaks.
Pure contentment settled in him.
He had everything he cared about within reach. Jetter, Family. The mountain. Peace. And Lauren.
It was nice.
More than nice.
He could get used to having her here.
But he kept his feelings to himself.
Women never stayed on the mountain. The only one who'd found happiness living here was his Grandma Callahan. Perhaps knowing that other people preferred life off the mountain kept him from forming any permanent relationships.
He'd witnessed the love his grandpa and grandma had for the mountain, and nobody would ever live up to that example. Not him, certainly.
Even his dad had left the mountain, got married, had him, and stayed gone. The only time his parents came back was to pick him up after spending the summer with his grandparents. His dad's two brothers and their wives had done the same thing with Beckett, Alicia, and Cord.
He was starting to believe there wasn't a woman out there who would fall in love with the mountain as much as he had and decide to make this her home.
Women, like Lauren, came for the view, for the escape, for the novelty. Each one was going out of their comfort zone for however long they paid for a cabin. But they always left because the silence was too much for them. Dirt always got under their nails.
They'd never learn that they needed to change because the mountain doesn't bend for anyone.
Still, knowing he couldn't change anything. He found himself curious.
"So what's it like?" he said, voice low. "Your job. All the content stuff."
Lauren smiled, eyes lighting up. "It's a lot. Planning, filming, editing. But I love it. I get to travel, meet people, and tell stories through my videos and pictures. Growing up, I never thought of myself as creative—"
"Popping tar bubbles was pretty creative," he said.
She laughed softly. "I suppose it was."
"And you make money doing this?"
She cupped her hands, bringing water up to her throat and letting it dribble down to where her breasts floated under the surface of the water.
"I do. Though I'll be the first to admit that it's a lot like gambling.
Sometimes, my adventures pay off, and the money rolls in.
Other times, the views aren't there, and not enough people react or comment.
I don't make money without my followers being active. "
Mac nodded, watching her talk. The way her hands moved, the way her voice lifted when she spoke about her work. It was clear that she loved her job and she loved her followers.
He wouldn't take that from her.
Wouldn't ask her to trade it for snowmobiles, propane tanks, and bear-proof coolers. Seasonal guests and long, quiet winters. All the hot soaks in a homemade tub heated by firewood couldn't compare to what she could find in Missoula or the places she travels.
A relationship with her wouldn't work.
He knew that.
But still, he watched her.
Listened.
There was an unfamiliar ache, knowing his time with Lauren was temporary. But he couldn't deny taking every minute that he could from her.
She had him feeling out of control. The last time he'd felt like this was when Tara told him he was going to be a father. It scared the shit out of him.
Lauren leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and smiled softly.
And Mac sat there, surrounded by everything he loved, wishing things could be different.