Chapter 23 #2
I huff. “Fine. Assertive. With... leadership qualities. Happy?”
I feel every brush of contact as he lets me slide down his body. I wait until my feet are firmly on the floor and I’m a few paces ahead before I mutter under my breath, “In other words, a real pain in the ass.”
I don’t get far. He lunges after me, and I squeal, running a few yards before laughter gets the better of me. I bend over, hands on my knees, trying to breathe.
Grabbing hold of my waist, he backs me against a giant boulder. He cages me in with his arms, one braced beside my head, the other drifting to my face. His eyes roam my face, down my throat, over my heaving chest, and a wicked smile curves his lips.
“This smart mouth,” he murmurs, tracing the outline of my lips with his fingertip, “is going to get you in trouble one day.”
I nip lightly at his finger in answer. “Looks like it already has.”
Something dark and hungry flickers across his expression.
His thumb hooks gently on my lower lip, tugging it down, opening me just a little for him.
He holds me like that, exposed, his gaze burning into mine.
Then leans in, and his teeth close gently around the plump flesh of my lip.
A sharp, possessive pressure that makes me gasp, the sound swallowed instantly as his mouth crashes down on mine.
The kiss isn’t gentle. It’s a conquest. I melt against the boulder, my body turning liquid under his assault. My hands fly up, gripping his shoulders as his tongue sweeps into my mouth with a hunger that makes my knees tremble.
A low groan escapes him as he fists my hair, tilting my head back to give him deeper access. The other arm wraps around my waist, crushing my body against his. I’m lost in the taste and scent of him, the feel of his powerful body holding me captive.
Until a sharp crackle of movement bursts from the brush to our right. We break apart, both of us gasping for air, our heads snapping toward the sound.
A fat, striped squirrel barrels out from under a fern, stops dead, and stares at us like it’s taken our existence personally. After a beat of judgmental silence, it chitters and scampers up a tree.
A laugh bursts out of me—breathless, giddy, impossible to hold in.
Dane exhales a low, almost disbelieving chuckle, his forehead dropping to mine like he can’t quite pull himself away.
“Come on,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over my jaw before he offers me his hand.
I slide my fingers into his. The warmth of his grip anchors me as he nods uphill.
“We’re almost at the top.”
The trail steepens, winding between pines and slabs of sunlit rock.
My legs burn, but it’s a good burn—the kind that makes me feel alive.
Dane stays close, occasionally resting his palm on the small of my back to steady me, guiding me over roots and uneven earth like he’s done this trail a hundred times.
A breeze picks up, cool and clean, carrying the scent of pine needles and distant snow.
Birds chatter overhead, hopping between branches like they’re arguing about us invading their territory.
Dane keeps glancing back at me, a small smile tugging at his mouth each time he catches me looking at him instead of watching where I’m going.
By the time we crest the final rise, my breath is already thin, but the view hits me like a punch.
The mountains stretch toward the horizon in endless rolling blue shadows. Below, the lake mirrors the bright winter sun; the sky so clear it glows.
I sink onto a sun-warmed boulder, letting the heat sink into my palms. “It’s beautiful,” I sigh.
Dane sits beside me, his thigh brushing mine, his gaze fixed entirely on me.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice soft—but he’s not looking at the view.
My stomach flips so hard I swear it lifts me an inch off the rock.
He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek, the touch filled with reverence.
The kiss he gives me this time is nothing like the one against the boulder earlier.
It’s slow.
Soft.
A careful, sensual slide of his lips over mine, full of feeling instead of hunger.
His thumb strokes along my jaw, tilting my chin to deepen it, but even then, he keeps the pace so gentle I feel it from the tips of my toes all the way up my spine.
When he finally pulls back, he rubs his thumb along my cheek like he’s reluctant to let go.
“You good?” he murmurs.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I nod, although it still seems like the ground is tilting beneath me.
“Hungry?”
“Starving, actually,” I smile.
“Good.” He steals one last quick brush of his lips against mine before leaning back and reaching for his pack.
We eat perched on the boulder with an easy closeness that feels like it’s always been there. The sun edges lower, gilding the mountains.
Eventually, Dane stands, offering his hand again.
“We should head down before it gets dark.”
I take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet, my heart still beating a little too fast from a kiss I’m pretty sure I’ll remember forever.
The descent starts easily, cool air sliding down the mountainside, the trail dipping through patches of sunlight and shadow. Dane walks close enough that his arm brushes mine every so often, like he’s tracking me without making a show of it.
I’m watching the mountains through the trees when my foot lands on a patch of loose gravel, and before I can correct it, my ankle rolls with a sharp pinch that shoots up my leg. I catch myself easily enough and stand still for a moment, testing the weight.
“Damn,” I mutter, flexing my foot.
“Everything okay there?” Dane drops his gaze to my ankle, his eyes narrowing in concern.
“It’s okay. Just a little twist. I just want to make sure I’m good for rehearsal tomorrow.”
He crouches slightly, presenting his back to me. “Get on.”
I squint at the broad line of his back. “Dane, I’m fine.”
“Humor me,” he says, flashing the smile that’s impossible to resist. “Plus, you don’t want to mess up rehearsals because of me.”
I roll my eyes skyward, but my smile’s already breaking through as I place my hands on his shoulders. “Fine. But only because you asked nicely.”
He rises smoothly once I’m settled, his grip firm beneath my thighs, carrying me like my weight is nothing, and as we continue down the trail, I find myself acutely aware of the warmth of his back, the subtle shift of muscle under his shirt, and the way my cheek keeps brushing the slope of his neck.
And God help me—a girl could get used to this.
The trees thin as we approach the clearing around his house, the late sunlight dipping everything in orange, and I’m still absorbing the strange sweetness of the moment when a figure comes into view near the driveway.
A woman stands there, keys dangling loosely from her fingers, a large bag over her arm.
And when her eyes land on Dane carrying me on his back, my arms looped around him, both of us a little flushed from the hike, she freezes.
She looks so much like Dane it’s startling.
Dark hair, tan skin, sharp features, that unmistakable Black confidence etched into every line of her expression.
Then, slowly, a wide, delighted smile curves across her face.
Dane lets out a quiet sigh through his nose. “Charlotte. I thought you were going back to Boston today.”
She plants a hand on her hip. “Wow. And here I was expecting a hello.”
His hands tighten just slightly under my legs, like he suddenly remembers I’m still on him.
Charlotte’s eyes flick from him to me to him again, sparkling with the kind of sibling curiosity that promises she’s already collecting data.
I tap Dane’s shoulder gently. “Hey,” I murmur near his ear, suddenly hyperaware of how this looks. “You can put me down now.”
He doesn’t move right away—of course, he doesn’t—his hands tighten briefly on my thighs, like he’s reluctant to let go. But after a beat, he lowers himself enough for my feet to touch the ground, and I slide off him, smoothing my fleece and pushing a hand through my hair.
Charlotte’s eyes track the whole movement, amused and curious and maybe a tiny bit thrilled.
“Sorry,” she says, lifting a hand in a half-apology that doesn’t match the grin tugging at her mouth. “I wouldn’t have barged in if I’d known you had... company.”
Dane exhales through his nose, somewhere between patient and resigned. “Charlotte, this is Ivy.” His hand brushes my lower back enough to send a quiet shiver through me. “Ivy, my sister.”
I step forward with a warm smile. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
Charlotte brightens immediately, like my reaction has put her at ease. “You too.” She lifts the canvas bag she’s carrying. “I came to cook him dinner, but—don’t worry,” she adds quickly, shifting her gaze between us, “I can absolutely get out of your hair.”
“No, please don’t,” I say at the same time Dane mutters, “Stay.”
She laughs, eyebrows lifting at our perfect synchronization. “Well, if you insist.”
Inside, I follow her to the kitchen to help while Dane crouches at the fireplace, stacking logs and coaxing the first crackle of flame to life.
She starts unpacking groceries—pasta, fresh herbs, a loaf of crusty bread—and I roll my sleeves up, offering, “Just tell me what you need me to do.”
“Oh, thank you, Ivy. If you don’t mind, you can chop those tomatoes?” She slides a cutting board my way, then glances at me sideways, the delighted twinkle still bright in her eyes. “You know... for a second when I saw you on his back, I thought you were Sloane.”
I laugh, grabbing the knife. “Yeah, she’s my twin. But don’t worry—it’s nothing kinky.”
Charlotte barks out a laugh so loud that Dane appears in the doorway, suspicion knitted in his brow.
“What are you two talking about?”
“Nothing!” we say together, which only makes him narrow his eyes before returning to the fire.