Chapter 4
Amelia
Grayson’s truck suited him. A weathered Ford pickup, its blue paint faded down to the metal in patches. Its body was speckled with rust and the tailgate had a solid dent in it.
He opened the passenger door for me, and I climbed up onto the bench seat, suddenly very aware that I was about to drive off into the wilderness with a complete stranger.
What the hell am I doing?
But even as the thought crossed my mind, I embraced the chaos of driving off into the unknown with a handsome man.
This was exactly why I’d left Jacksonville. Why I’d sold my furniture, packed my plants and driven until the flat Florida highways gave way to mountain roads.
I’d wanted adventure. It was time for me to stop being a woman who always played it safe.
Grayson rounded the truck and slid behind the wheel, his large frame filling the cab. The engine turned over with a rumble that vibrated through my seat, and then we were pulling out of the diner’s gravel lot.
Iron Peak slipped past us quickly. The town was small, just a handful of blocks really, and within minutes we were climbing a winding road that hugged the mountainside. I pressed closer to the window, my breath catching at the view.
Spring had come to the Colorado mountains in a riot of color I hadn’t expected. The lower slopes were carpeted in wildflowers, purple lupines and yellow arrowleaf balsamroot swaying in the breeze.
They looked nothing like the wildflowers of Florida. A different kind of beauty, and more entrancing to me since I’d never seen them before.
Higher up, the dark green of pine and spruce forests gave way to patches of aspen, their new spring leaves pale against the darker evergreens. Snowmelt cascaded down rocky outcroppings in thin silver ribbons, feeding streams that ran alongside the road.
And above it all, the peaks themselves still wore bright caps of snow.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Grayson’s voice was low, almost reverent.
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” And I meant it.
Florida had its own beauty, sure, but nothing like this. This place made me feel so small and so alive all at the same time.
He pointed out landmarks as we drove. A meadow where elk gathered in the early morning hours, and the spot where the Iron Peak River flowed close to the road, its water running fast with snowmelt.
Then the road curved around a bend, and I saw crumbling stone walls half-hidden among the pines.
“What’s that over there?”
“Those are the Old Mine Ruins,” Grayson said, nodding toward the structure. “Don’t ever go there alone.”
“Why not?”
“Dangerous. The ground’s unstable in places, and there are old shafts that aren’t marked. People have gotten hurt exploring when they shouldn’t.” His jaw tightened. “Stay away from it.”
The warning in his voice made me shiver. “Noted. Stay away from creepy mines.”
We drove on, climbing higher until the road ended at a small parking area. A wooden sign proclaimed it to be the Iron Peak Trailhead, and beyond it, a lookout platform jutted out over the canyon.
Grayson parked and came around to help me down out of the truck. His hand was warm and rough against mine, and I felt the contact all the way up my arm.
“Wait here a sec.”
He walked over to a small ranger shed and pulled out a logbook, scrawling something in it before returning. I’d wandered to the edge of the platform, gripping the weathered railing as I stared out at the view.
Grayson appeared at my shoulder and looked out with me.
The canyon dropped away beneath us, its walls striped in layers of gray rock. Far below, a river wound through the valley, barely visible from this height. Waterfalls spilled from the cliffs in misty curtains, and I could see steam rising down below.
That must be the hot springs.
Birds circled overhead, hawks maybe, their cries echoing off the stone.
“Is that where we’re going?”
“Naw. I’ve got a different spring to show you. It’s better. You ready? The hike is a couple miles out.”
I nodded, and he led me toward a section of forest that looked completely impenetrable. Dense pines crowded together, their lower branches creating a wall of green.
He stepped off the carefully marked trail into the woods.
“Wait, there’s no trail here,” I hurried after him, ducking under branches.
“There is if you know where to look.” He glanced back at me, something almost like amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “This is a deer trail. I’ve been walking these mountains my whole life. It’s mostly critters up here, not many people.”
I followed in his footsteps, trying to see what he saw. Gradually, I noticed the subtle signs. Bent grass, a gap between trees, a worn patch of earth. A trail that was invisible unless you knew it existed.
“Are there any dangerous animals out here?”
He went quiet, then muttered, “Yup.”
“All we have in Florida are alligators, and they’re pretty easy to avoid. They mostly hang out by ponds and lakes. Out here, though…”
“You want to turn back?” Grayson glanced back at me, and the scar on his face caught the dappled light filtering through the trees. I wondered again what had given it to him.
“No, no. Just thinking about what could be out here. I guess you’re used to it, though.”
“Yup.” He kept walking, moving through the woods with an ease that made him seem at home in this forested world.
I kept up my side of the conversation for the next thirty minutes while I pulled one-word answers out of the man.
Just when I started to think he’d used up his word quota for the day, his phone rang unexpectedly, shattering the forest silence.
He pulled it from his pocket and answered with a gruff, “Ford.”
I could only hear his side of the conversation, but I pieced together enough. A family of campers had gone missing.
“How long overdue?” A pause. “Which sector?” Another pause. “Yeah, I know that area.” He listened for a long moment. “Naw. Nowhere near there. I can head that way if Chuck can’t go, but I’m on the other side of the county right now.”
“Yup.” Another pause. “All right. Keep me posted.”
Grayson ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket.
“Do you need to leave?” I asked.
“No. Four other guys are closer. Wyatt says they can handle it for now.”
We kept walking, but my mind was spinning.
Search and rescue. This man spent his time pulling people out of dangerous situations, saving lives in these unforgiving mountains. It made him seem even larger than life than he already was.
I watched him move through the trees ahead of me. The man was tall and built like he’d been carved from the mountain itself.
If I needed saving, I’d want a man like him doing the job. Solid and strong and so impossibly sexy that I could barely think straight.
My conquests could be counted on one hand.
Ethan, the accountant.
Oliver, the computer tech.
And Christian, the guy who ran the botany club I used to attend.
All of them combined had less muscle mass than the beast in front of me. And bless their hearts, they hadn’t known what to do with a woman once they had me. Or maybe that’s what sex was always like. Better in my imagination than in real life.
But I bet he’d know what to do with a woman. Grayson Ford looked like he could fuck me to Mars and back without breaking a sweat.
For once in my life, I was going to do something bold.
I was going to seduce this man.
The thought sent a thrill through me, equal parts terror and excitement.
One night in his bed would probably change my entire life.
Just as I was thinking that, the trees parted without warning, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
The hot springs were nestled in a natural bowl of stone, steam curling up from water so clear I could see the smooth rocks lining the bottom. Moss and ferns clung to the edges, impossibly green against the gray granite.
Wildflowers dotted the banks in splashes of purple and white, and the whole scene was framed by towering pines that blocked out everything but a perfect circle of blue sky above.
“Oh my god,” I breathed. “It’s beautiful.”
Grayson stood beside me, his gaze sweeping the clearing with the practiced ease of a man checking for threats. “Told you it was worth the hike.”
The reality of our isolation hit me then. We hadn’t passed another soul on the trail.
No voices carried through the trees, and there were no distant sounds of civilization. Just the gentle splash of the springs and the whisper of wind rustling through pine needles.
We were completely alone out here. Miles from anyone.
“You want to take a dip?” His voice dropped lower, rougher, and the sound of it sent heat shooting through me.
The water looked so inviting, steam rising from its surface.
“Is it safe?”
“Perfectly. I’ve been coming here for years. Water’s clean, temperature’s just right.”
I bit my lip. “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”
His dark eyes drifted down my body, slow and deliberate, taking their time on the journey from my face to my feet and back up again. When they met mine, something hungry lurked in their depths.
“Don’t need one.” His voice was a low drawl, seducing me. “I’m going in wearing my underwear.”
Then he reached for the buttons on his flannel shirt.
W-what?
I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t even blink. I was getting a one-man strip show all for myself.
The flannel fell open, revealing a white undershirt stretched tight across his chest. He shrugged the flannel off and tossed it onto a nearby rock. Then he gripped the hem of the undershirt and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion.
My mouth went dry.
Holy shit.
His chest was broad and thick with muscle, covered in a dusting of dark hair that trailed down over abs that looked carved from stone. His shoulders were massive, arms corded with the kind of strength that came from real work, not gym machines.
A few scars marked his tanned skin. He was built like a man who could chop wood all day and still have energy left over to throw me over his shoulder and carry me to bed.
His hands went to his belt buckle, and I forgot how to swallow.