8. August
August
Epilogue
The sun hangs high, baking the trail ahead of us, and Payton’s a few steps in front—her tank top sticking to her back, her hair pulled into a messy knot that’s slowly coming undone. She glances over her shoulder, cheeks flushed, and shoots me a look that’s full of exhaustion.
She looks like she’s ready to overheat. The only thing fueling her to keep going up this climb is the thought of the cool waters waiting for us at my buddy’s lake.
“If you don’t hurry up, I’m going to break out in a full burst sprint and jump in without you.”
I smirk, adjusting the pack on my shoulders. “There is no way you’ll survive a hundred feet in your state.”
Giving me a cheeky smile, I can already see the gears turning in her head as she takes up my words like they’re some kind of challenge.
“Payton…” Dragging out her name slowly, a warning behind it, the heat above taunts me that I risk falling for the same fate if she makes me chase after her.
She laughs, the sound bright against the quiet of the mountain, and takes off running before I can catch her. Thankfully, our destination isn’t too far away.
By the time I reach the lake’s edge, she’s already toeing off her hiking boots, her breath coming fast. The water’s gonna be freezing, but she doesn’t hesitate. Just yanks her shirt over her head to reveal the top of her swimsuit and leaps in once her shorts hit her ankles.
The splash echoes, and then there’s silence.
My heart lurches for half a second before she surfaces with a gasp, her hair slicked back, her skin pebbled with goosebumps. “Oh my God—August, it’s heaven!”
I shake my head, stripping down to join her. “You say that every single time, and I have to call you a liar over and over.”
When I dive in, the cold hits like a shock, and suddenly she’s there, arms looping around my neck, her legs tangling with mine beneath the surface.
Her lips find my ear as she itches to soak up my body heat. It’s a wonder how her teeth don’t chatter. “Not too bad, right? Just give it a moment.”
I haul her closer, my hands mapping the familiar dip of her waist, the scar on her shoulder from when she fell trying to split firewood that first winter. The water’s sharp, but she’s warmer. Always is.
With the air silent, void of even the signs of nature, I enjoy this peace.
Payton’s arms lock around my neck, her legs sliding around my hips beneath the water’s glassy surface. Droplets cling to her lashes, her lips part long enough to take in a shaky breath. A flush catches the edge of her smile, and something in my chest cracks wide open.
“Is this your way of cooling down?” I mutter, my voice rough.
She doesn’t answer. Just drags her nails lightly down along my shoulder blades and leans in. Her mouth meets mine, and the world narrows to the slick heat of her lips, the way she nips at my bottom one like she’s savoring the taste.
The lake’s icy fingers claw at my shoulders, but she’s everywhere, warm and relentless, her tongue tracing the seam of my mouth until I groan. She’s learned my weakness over the course of the last two years of our marriage.
She arches into me with a sound that’s more vibration than noise, and suddenly I’m drowning in the best way.
When we break apart, her cheeks are more flushed, her breath coming in quick puffs against my jaw.
“We’d better be careful. Don’t want to lose our swimming privileges.”
Payton talks sense, but my body disagrees. Because right now, with her legs hooked around my waist and the sun turning her skin gold, there’s only one thing I’m interested in—and it sure as hell isn’t swimming.
I kiss her again, slow and deep, tasting the promise of later.