Chapter 22
I landed back in the emergency room, and the mountainside property was once again crawling with law enforcement officials. I was relieved I didn’t have to deal with the sheriff again, but I was less than thrilled there was another dead body that needed to be addressed. I began to wonder if it was the land that carried the curse of being unlucky and not me. The soil and snow seemed to have been soaked in blood ever since I had come home. Or rather, since I’d brought Risky home with me.
I tried to explain how Banner’s husband had ended up with a bullet hole between his eyes, but I knew I sounded crazy when I claimed a strange woman had appeared at the critical moment and saved my life, then promptly disappeared. I could’ve handed them Karsen Booker’s name and mentioned my savior was related to her, but my gut told me it was best to keep that family out of it and consider myself fortunate to be alive.
Charley Booker had decided to let me and Risky move on. It took a minute and some heavy-duty painkillers for me to meander to the realization that she finally knew that even if I was out of the picture, Risky was never going back to being Risk. She could’ve just let Banner’s husband do the dirty work for her and hoped Risky would return to his roots—and her. Something about watching me fight to stay alive and for what was mine must’ve convinced her the man who loved someone like me was not the same man her family had created.
I evaded the probing questions and disbelieving looks until Risky appeared and ran interference for me. I could tell he was skilled at getting people to believe and see what he wanted them to. The inquiries surrounding the mysterious stranger died down almost instantly once he started answering for me.
I was happy to see him, not only because he could act as a smoke screen. I was in pain and honestly struggling pretty hard with coming to terms with how close I’d come to meeting my maker. I didn’t want to be alone. Since we probably loved each other, I was going to lean on him when it felt too hard to stand steady on my own. I’d never had that sort of support in my life before him. It was a relief to share the weight of the world and my wounds, both old and new, with someone else for a change.
The injury on my shoulder was nasty. That hunting knife had torn through skin and muscle, down to the bone, just like it had been designed to do. I had lost a fair amount of blood and knew I wasn’t going to have full movement of my arm on that side for weeks to come. Some of the other stab wounds needed to be stitched up, and my neck was bruised to high hell from being hauled around by the throat. However, nothing was serious enough to keep me in the hospital for longer than a day.
When Risky took me home, he was back to being quiet and broody. It was hard to differentiate if he was relieved Charley had left me alive, or furious she had been on his turf after he explicitly told her there would be a war if she didn’t back off. I wanted him to let sleeping dogs lie. Even though Karsen Booker had said she wouldn’t get in the middle of any conflict her protégé might have with her daughter unless she had no other choice, the scary man with the scar on his face hadn’t made the same promise. He didn’t strike me as the type of father who would let his child be on the losing side of any argument. Especially one with lives on the line.
Starting over meant letting go of the past and focusing on the future for both of us.
It took a few days, but eventually, the playful, relaxed Risky resurfaced. I was happy to have him back.
It was more traumatizing to watch the remnants of the lodge get bulldozed and hauled off the side of the mountain than I’d thought it would be. Part of me felt like a failure, seeing all my grandfather’s hard work disappear. Another part of me was weak with relief, feeling like every mistake and misstep I’d made was erased. I’d never planned to be in a position to create something from scratch, something that would force me to find my vision, but I wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass me by. Even if I was back to being the talk of the town and the odd man out in Blue River.
The small town would be so boring without me and the chaos that followed me around like a pet.
Now that no one was actively trying to kill me or ruin my business, my life was mostly uneventful. I spent a lot of time teaching Risky how to use various power tools and fix common household issues. When the time came and the lodge was back up and running, he was going to be an actual handyman. I no longer needed to hover over his shoulder and double-check his work. He was a fast learner and exceptionally skilled with his hands—and his mouth.
Since it was going to take close to a year or longer for the rebuild to begin, I spent a significant amount of time being the sole focus of Risky’s attention. It was a first for me, feeling like I was the center of someone’s world, but not in a creepy, obsessive way. I felt cared for and cherished, but more than that, he shared himself and his life with me and allowed me to do the same.
I taught him how to snowboard.
He took me to Paris.
I took him fishing.
He taught me how to shoot a gun.
I bought an old truck similar to the one that had been destroyed to keep the connection to my grandfather.
He helped me painstakingly restore it.
And as much as I enjoyed his company and we seamlessly merged our lives, he never made me feel dependent on him or like he couldn’t live without me.
Those favors he traded like currency called him away from the mountains regularly. Sometimes he would return, and I could see a heavy weight holding him down. It always took a while for him to shake the morose mood off. He never told me the reason for the shift in his temperament, and I tactfully never asked. I let him know he could talk to me if he wanted to, but both Declan and Risk were strangers to me, and I think Risky planned to keep it that way. If he thought there were parts of his past I wouldn’t be able to come to terms with after everything we survived together, I decided to trust his judgment.
I took the time while he was away or when I had downtime to make some friends. After Banner’s betrayal, I realized how dangerous being isolated and alone was. I started to think if I’d had more than one friend, someone might’ve seen the suspicious behavior I had been blind to. I hung out with Nico and a couple of the other kids I’d hired. I spent more time than ever enjoying the mountain and everything living in a small ski town offered. I also visited Dex’s mom. Even though she was older than me, she’d always been a welcoming and friendly neighbor. I appreciated her company, and it was nice to have a local who sympathized with all I’d been through because Banner’s parents were still acting like it was my fault their daughter was in a whole heap of legal trouble.
Ironically enough, the woman who replaced the old sheriff was young and ambitious. She had come from out of town and wasn’t swayed by the existing rumors and gossip about me. She didn’t know my parents or my grandparents. She didn’t care if I sold the land or rebuilt a monstrosity on it. The only thing she seemed interested in was closing all the open legal cases on her desk that involved me. She was a breath of fresh air, and since we ended up spending so much time together during her various investigations I was wrapped up in, we developed a friendship. The only drawback was that she was extremely perceptive and highly inquisitive. She warned me more than once that she felt there was more to Risky than met the eye. She wasn’t fooled by his rugged-mountain-man act at all, meaning I had to watch what I said around her.
I was the only one allowed to peek beneath his mask.
“Mmm … that’s right. Take it all like a good girl.” Risky’s voice was raspy, and his pretty eyes were heavy-lidded and bright with bliss.
I should’ve never urged him to call me that while I sucked him off. It was like handing a kid a candy store. He took full advantage and never missed an opportunity. It was a surefire way to heat things up and let me know how close he was to coming in my mouth. If he could form sentences, there was still time to work him up and push him over the edge.
I had a hand wrapped around his thigh, the other touching him between his legs. One of his hands was locked in my hair, making it messier than normal, and the other was cupping the side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheek, which expanded and contracted with each movement of my mouth along the surface of his cock. It was gentle and erotic simultaneously. He was excellent at playing hard against soft, and more mischievous than relying on things that were expected. I never knew what was going to happen next, which kept things between us sexy and exciting. I hardly remembered the woman who had thought sex was overrated. It never felt like a chore to meet his demands because I made plenty of my own. Risky never failed to deliver.
I swallowed hard around the length in my mouth and used my tongue to tease the sensitive ridge on the tip. Risky grunted in approval and shifted his hand to trace his fingers along my jawline. He must’ve liked the picture of me on my knees, head tilted back so I could take as much of him in as possible, because his eyes gleamed like polished gold as he watched. His legs tensed, and his chest rose and fell with ragged breaths when I began to move faster. I wrapped a hand around the base of his erection and moved my fist in time with my mouth to add to his pleasure. The hand holding my hair tightened and tugged, silently asking me to move faster and squeeze harder. He had to be close. He stopped talking and spoke with his eyes and his hands, clearly communicating he was losing control.
I was happy to let him finish in my mouth. Risky had other plans.
He pulled me to my feet and stepped into me until I fell backward onto the bed. I bounced a bit from the force, which made me laugh. Never in a million years had I imagined I would find sex fun, or that it would soothe something inside of me I hadn’t known was torn and ragged.
Risky made every part of being with him simple and easy, even if he wasn’t a simple and easy man. We were perfect since I’d always been told I made things difficult. His hard met any challenge I presented, and the sparks created from the friction were enough to set the entire mountain ablaze—in a good way.
Risky bent down to kiss me. I thought he always tasted good. Right now, the only flavor I had was him. He didn’t seem to mind as his tongue flicked over mine and licked across the roof of my mouth and the edge of my teeth. There was no place left unexplored as our mouths met in a ravenous way until he pulled back to let me breathe.
With a hand on my hip, he guided me to roll over. When I was on my hands and knees in front of him, I felt him place a soft kiss on the scar that ran along my shoulder blade. He frequently caressed that spot, almost like he was trying to erase the painful memory or reassure me he didn’t find the mark horrifying. I’d told him it didn’t bother me. It was on my back. I could hardly see it. It was a reminder that I’d survived. No matter what, I lived.
Truthfully, the wound that was the deepest was dealing with the aftermath of having more than one person want me dead in such a short time frame. I had jumped at my shadow for months. I thought every stranger who crossed my path had an ulterior motive. I refused to drive up and down the pass, which left me stranded on the mountain. It took a lot of work, along with Risky’s constant encouragement, to help me break out of the secure bubble I wrapped around myself. Having him teach me how to use a gun, as well as some basic self-defense techniques, had also helped. I didn’t think I would ever win in a fight against his ex or his former boss, but I could hold my own against the run-of-the-mill psychopath these days. I needed to rebuild my confidence along with the lodge.
Risky’s lips moved down my spine, and his fingers dug into the curve of my waist. My head fell forward, and my hair swung down to cover my face. It was inelegant as hell, but I would never regret letting this man turn me into a sweaty, shaking mess of satisfaction.
I gasped as my body rocked forward when he entered me. His movements were rough because he had been riding on the edge of an orgasm when he switched our positions. My body burned and melted around him. My heart throbbed, and my pulse pounded. I didn’t mind when he was in a hurry. It made me feel like he couldn’t get enough of me. Being desirable was addictive. I doubted if I would ever get enough of it—or him.
His hips slammed into mine as he muttered my name. When he said it with his husky voice that got lower the more turned on he became, I didn’t hate hearing someone say it out loud as much as I normally did. He made it sound decadent. Like it was something he wanted to celebrate and savor. He made me feel like I was a blessing, not a curse. And like I brought nothing but relief to his life. He never saw me as a burden.
The way he looked at me forced me to see myself through his eyes. I got a clearer picture of who I was and my value since he looked at me like I was priceless.
I was the fortune he’d found, and he had no plans to let me go.
Risky put his knee on the mattress and wrapped an arm around my waist. His lips landed on the back of my neck, and I felt the nip of his teeth. His chest stuck to my back, and he panted in my ear. I moaned when he started to move frantically, his thrusts pushing me forward, making my hands slide on the bedding. I lost my balance and lowered my forehead to rest on the back of my hand. Risky shifted his hold so his arm was looped around my chest with one hand fondling my breast. I sucked in a breath and let my teeth sink into my lower lip to hold back the nearly feral noises trying to escape my mouth.
The small cabin was filled with the sounds and scents of vigorous sexual activity. We spent a lot of time fucking, but I still got embarrassed when I completely lost my inhibitions and turned into a creature driven by my rawest instincts. Risky loved all my different sides. I was still getting used to having a heart and coming undone under his skillful touch and heated body.
Sometimes the way I wanted and craved him terrified me. Thankfully, he could tell when I started to freak myself out. All he had to do was hold me closer, tell me he wasn’t going anywhere, and remind me I wasn’t alone in this. He’d never been in over his head with someone either. If we clung to each other, it didn’t matter if we went adrift or not. Wherever we landed, as long as we were together, we could make anything work, and the ground was solid beneath our feet.
“Are you still with me?” The question was growled in my ear.
Risky’s beard rubbed against the side of my face, and I knew I was going to have a spot left from the abrasion.
I turned my head with a slight flip so I could get my hair out of the way and replied, “I’m here.”
I thought when he checked in, especially when he was buried deep within me and we were both drunk on pleasure and passion, it was one of the hottest things he brought to the bedroom.
“Are you with me?”
“Do you like this?”
“How does that feel?”
“Do you want more?”
“Can you handle it?”
“Tell me what you want, Lucky. I’ll give it to you.”
He was fairly wild and brought blurry sexual boundaries with him. But he made it a point to make sure I wasn’t chasing him and that he wasn’t pulling me along somewhere I didn’t want to go. He gave me the directions and let me decide if I wanted to meet him there or detour somewhere else. Either way, he was always waiting for me to decide, and then we went whichever way, side by side.
Risky scraped his teeth against the curve of my jaw and pinched my nipple between his fingers. His hands were no longer smooth and pristine. They’d earned nicks and cuts and a rough spot here and there. It started to feel like the flannel shirt and torn jeans were no longer a costume he was wearing to fool people. I loved the way those small imperfections felt on my skin. They made him appear more attainable and less like a visitor in my quaint little world.
“I’m close.” The warning was rasped near my ear, and Risky’s body tensed where it was pressed against mine.
Before I could form a thought, he lifted me back to my hands and knees and started to aggressively thrust into me. I moaned loudly and then caught the sound when he positioned himself so he could snake a dexterous hand between my legs. His fingers stroked over my clit, and in no time, I was as lit up as he was. I came a second after he did, and we collapsed in a satisfied heap, sweaty and stuck together. It shouldn’t have been romantic, but it was. The lazy and effortless fulfillment on his face made my heart soft.
He kissed the scar on my shoulder once more before rolling off of me and flopping onto his back while grinning up at the ceiling.
“Who would’ve thought getting Lucky would become my whole life?” He chuckled. “I’m living the dream.”
I rolled my eyes at the cringe-worthy joke and reached out a finger to trace the laugh lines that crinkled the corner of his eye.
“Thank you for not loving me too much, Mr. Risk.” It was an odd thing to say, but I knew he would understand the sentiment. “And for not loving me too little.”
Somehow, he loved me the perfect amount.
“I told you, Ms. Fortune, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I knew he meant it down to his soul.
Taking a risk by bringing him home had turned out to be the only bit of luck either of us needed.