Epilogue
The fresh mountain air is crisp and sweet, but I can barely appreciate it over the sound of my own ragged breathing. First hike of the summer and I am dying.
My lungs burn, and the muscles in my thighs are screaming as I lift my boots to take another step up the steep, winding trail. Just a few feet ahead of me, Dawson moves with the effortless, fluid grace of a man who was born on these peaks.
His broad shoulders shift rhythmically beneath his T-shirt, his massive frame completely unfazed by the incline. He’s got a nice darkened patch tracing his spine that has my feet moving on their own, but if it weren’t for the pull I feel for my husband, I think I’d be doomed.
I love this man, but watching him hike without struggle while I feel like I'm running a marathon is a test of my patience.
Even so, he’s incredibly patient with me. Every few paces, he glances back over his shoulder, slowing his long strides to match my sluggish momentum, his eyes constantly tracking my movements to ensure I don't trip over a stray root or rock.
"Dawson..." I pant, stopping in my tracks and leaning forward to rest my hands on my knees. "Break. Please tell me we can take a break."
He stops instantly, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his handsome face. He turns around and walks back down the path toward me, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel. Before I can even straighten up, his large hands settle firmly on my waist, pulling me right against his chest.
"You finished this trail easily last time I recall," he murmurs, his voice a low, deep rumble that vibrates straight into my chest.
Before I can offer a breathless retort, he leans down and captures my mouth. The kiss is hot, heavy, and completely consuming, stealing what little air I have left. I melt into him on instinct, my hands coming up to grip his forearms for balance.
When he finally pulls back just an inch, his lips brush against mine as he speaks. "Can’t exactly kiss you while we’re moving. A break sounds perfect."
I let out a weak, dramatic sigh, resting my forehead against his shoulder. "How much further again?"
"About a mile to the lookout," he says, a teasing edge to his tone. He slides his hands down to cup my hips, squeezing gently. "I can carry you the rest of the way up if that's what you want. Just say the word."
I pause, actually considering it for a long, silent minute. The image of his massive, muscled arms hooking under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly against his chest while he conquers the rest of the mountain, flashes through my mind.
A sudden, wicked wave of heat hits my lower stomach, entirely unrelated to the physical exertion of the hike.
Dawson catches the exact moment my expression changes. The smirk on his face widens, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement.
My cheeks instantly flare with a hot, furious blush. Realizing he knows exactly where my mind just went, I swat his chest, a breathless laugh escaping me. "Shush. I've got this. I am walking up that peak on my own two feet."
"Whatever you say, sweetheart," he chuckles, taking all but two steps back. Barely enough to call it a distance.
I reach down, unclipping my water bottle from my pack. I twist the cap off and take a long, desperate gulp, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. As I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, I look up and realize he’s just standing there, staring down at me, his gaze heavy and smoldering.
I instantly narrow my eyes, holding the water bottle between us like a shield. "Don't even think about it, Dawson. I'm sweaty and gross."
His smile stretches. "You think I care about that?"
Instead of backing off, he steps forward once more, his large hands reaching out for me again. I let out a loud giggle as he leans down, completely ignoring my warning as his warm lips begin peppering sharp, trailing kisses across my damp cheeks and down to my chin.
"Stop it!" I laugh, squirming in his grip, though my hands are already curling into his shirt. "Dawson, seriously. We're on a public trail. Someone will see us."
He stops his assault on my jawline, lifting his head just enough to lock his burning eyes onto mine. His jaw clenches with that fierce, protective possessiveness I've grown to crave.
"I'll be damned if I let that happen," he growls softly. "You’re all mine.”
Any lingering urge to resist him completely evaporates the moment his hands get involved.
His fingers slide beneath the hem of my shirt, his warm, calloused palms making direct contact with the flushed bare skin of my waist. A delicious shiver runs straight down my spine, my body instantly softening against his.
I let out a soft, defeated sigh, dropping my water bottle into the grass as I wrap my arms securely around his neck, pulling him down to give him exactly what he wants. The rest of the mountain can wait. Right here, in his arms, I’m already exactly where I belong.