2. Dawson
CHAPTER 2
DAWSON
The shock of seeing Rosalie slams into me like a lightning strike burning through every nerve ending. Having her right in front of me again is surreal.
Less than twenty-four hours. That’s how long it’s been since I finished my time in the Navy. I walked away from a life built on discipline, routine, and never staying in one place too long. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I got back to Misty Mountain… But it sure as hell wasn’t Rosalie standing here like a living, breathing reminder of everything I lost.
Rosalie—my Rosalie.
Only, she’s not mine anymore.
I fucked that up. I let the most incredible part of my life slip through my fingers and I own it. But knowing that doesn’t change the way she still fills the hollow space inside me, the part of me that’s never felt whole since the day she walked away. She looks exactly like the last time I saw her, stunning, fierce, and impossible to ignore.
She feels like home in a way nothing else ever has. But from the look she’s shooting me, I’d guess the feeling isn’t exactly mutual.
Her hand settles on the curve of her full hip. It’s a stance I know too damn well. She’s stubborn, defensive, and bracing for impact. And yet, all I can think about is how many times I’ve had my hands there. I’m lost in memories of gripping her tight and holding on like she was the only solid thing in my world while I claimed her.
Her lips press into a full pout, and fuck if my body doesn’t remember every damn thing about that mouth. How it felt against mine, how it whispered my name, how it wrapped around my pulsating length. I exhale sharply, forcing myself to look away, to think about anything else, but some things you don’t forget. Some things stay carved into your bones no matter how much time passes.
And Rosalie? She’s in every part of me.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice is sharp and clipped, but I don’t miss the flicker of something beneath it.
I flash a slow grin, letting the moment stretch just to rile her up. “Nice to see you too, sweetheart. You really know how to welcome a hero home.” I hang up my coat and lean casually against the mantle of the fireplace. “It’s quiet here. Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves.”
My ex-wife exhales, a little exasperated, but not quite immune to me and I take that as a good sign. The corners of her mouth twitch, and I see her fighting it. Rosalie was never good at hiding things from me.
“This place is closed because of the snowstorm rolling in. All the reservations were canceled.”
“Must’ve missed that memo,” I say, unbothered. “Lucky for me, I guess. I don’t have anywhere else to go. Not in this weather.”
She mutters something under her breath and turns toward the check-in desk. “How long are you here?” Her tone is all business.
I hold her gaze. “I’m here forever. I’m done with the military.”
I know it isn’t the question she was asking, but I don’t care. I want her attention and from the way her head snaps up, I’ve got it.
“Really?” For a split second, something flickers in those deep, knowing eyes of hers. Something warm.
“Yeah,” I say, savoring the way she looks at me now. “Told you I wasn’t in it for life. Checked my boxes, served my country, and now I’m free.”
Her expression shifts in an instant, soft curiosity hardening into something colder. “Yeah. Being in things for life isn’t exactly your strong suit.”
The hit lands square in my chest. “Ouch,” I say, dragging a hand through my hair. “That’s fair.” I hold up my hands in surrender. “I’ll go get settled in. My reservation is in room one. And just so I know… what room are you staying in?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and it’s one of my favorite sights in the world if I’m being honest. The round swell of her full tits press up and there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for the chance to bury my face in them one more time. I check her left hand. No ring.
“I’m not a guest,” she says flatly. “I work here. Or I did. This is my last shift. I’m leaving right now before the roads ice over.”
Something sharp and unwelcome twists in my gut. “It isn’t a good idea. They’re already slick. Are you still driving that tiny Toyota, because without chains, you really shouldn’t?”
She shakes her head like I don’t have any right to be protective of her, and maybe I don’t. But I can’t help it.
“I am leaving, and not just the inn, Dawson. I’m done with Misty Mountain, too.” Her voice is steady, and I don’t miss the sharp edge beneath it. “I’m heading into a whole new life, far away from here. So you can have this place all to yourself.”
The words spill out of her thick with the weight of everything left unsaid between us. It’s not just a statement… it’s a warning, a clear line drawn in the sand. But for right or wrong, I make the decision right there to ignore it.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” And I hope I can change your mind.
She must read the determination on my face because Rosalie walks behind the front desk. She retrieves a key for room one with a huff and slides it across the counter toward me. Then she stomps away without another word.