Chapter 33
Rosie
I wake slowly, sunlight spilling through the tent and warming my face. For a moment, I stay still, the soft hum of the morning surrounding me. Memories from last night flood back—Alex, the waterfall, the way his touch felt like a fire under my skin, and the way our bodies fit together so perfectly. A smile tugs at my lips, unbidden.
But it’s more than the passion I remember. It’s Alex himself. How he worried about me afterward, his hands gentle as he helped me into my clothes, his voice low and soothing as he wrapped me in a blanket. He held me so close, as though keeping me safe was all that mattered. My chest tightens with an emotion I’m almost afraid to name.
I open my eyes, turning toward his sleeping bag—but it’s empty. The small space feels colder without him, and unease begins to creep in. Wrapping the blanket tighter around myself, I slip out of the tent.
The crisp morning air brushes my cheeks, the scent of dew and pine filling my lungs. A soft sound pulls my attention—coffee bubbling over the campfire. Relief washes over me as I spot Alex crouched by the fire, his back to me. When he turns, his smile is like the sunrise, warm and bright and just for me.
“Good morning, princess,”
he says, his voice teasing yet gentle.
“Good morning, cowboy,”
I reply, my cheeks heating. How do you act the morning after a night like that? My thoughts race, and for a moment, I feel shy under his gaze.
Alex seems to sense it. He rises slowly, approaching as though not to startle me. “Did you sleep well?”
he asks, his tone softer now, full of concern.
I nod. “Yes, very well. And you?”
His smile deepens, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Never better.”
We stand there, the quiet stretching between us. The crackling of the fire and the distant birdsong are the only sounds, yet the air hums with something unspoken. Alex steps closer, his eyes searching mine, and then, as if drawn by some invisible pull, he wraps his arms around me.
The blanket falls away, but I hardly notice. His embrace is warm and steady, his chest solid against my cheek. I close my eyes, breathing him in, the familiar scent of pine and leather grounding me.
He leans back slightly, just enough to meet my gaze, his expression soft. Slowly, his lips brush mine in a kiss that’s gentle, tender, and achingly sweet. It’s different from last night’s fiery passion. This kiss is slower, deeper, like a promise neither of us is ready to put into words.
When we part, his mischievous smile returns, lighting his face. “How about breakfast? I make a mean pancake.”
I laugh, grateful for the ease he brings to the moment, for the way he always knows when to break the tension. “Oh really? Is that a challenge, cowboy?”
I say, mustering a playful tone to match his.
He winks. “You’ll just have to taste and see.”