Chapter 19
Hannah
Alexandria drains the last of her coffee. “Right,” she says brightly. “Time for lunch.”
Orson perks up. “Great. I’m starving.”
Alexandria gives him a look. “Whatcha making then?”
He puffs his chest out. “I cooked last night.”
She pulls a shocked face. “And they’re all still here to tell the tale.”
“Hannah helped.”
She gives me a small smile. “Okay, that makes more sense.”
“We had deer and roast potatoes and herbs.”
I smile at the pride in his voice.
“Any leftovers?” she asks.
“Nope. Torin ate them all after he killed Cade.”
I stiffen. Wow. This is going to take some getting used to.
“Guess he worked up an appetite.” Alexandria gets to her feet. “I was thinking more along the lines of ham and eggs. If there’s any of that in the fridge?”
“There sure is,” Torin says. “Been shopping.”
Alexandria starts pulling things out of the fridge while Torin gets the bread.
“What can I do?” I ask.
“Nothing. We’ve got it.”
“There has to be something.”
“You’re our guest.”
“That’s exactly why I should help.”
She studies me for a second. “Okay. Salad.”
“Deal.”
Lunch is simple and delicious—ham, eggs, fried potatoes and salad.
Conversation wanders from fishing to the weather to whether the raspberries will be early this year.
Gunnar tells a story about a tourist who tried to photograph a bear from twenty feet away.
Orson insists it was fifteen. Torin says it was thirty.
Nobody agrees on anything except that the tourist was an idiot.
By the time we’re finished, it’s well into the afternoon.
Gunnar heads outside to work on something or other. Orson follows him a few minutes later, loudly claiming he’s only going to supervise.
Torin lingers in the kitchen.
“Fancy a walk?”
My heart gives a little jump. “Sure.”
The heat hits me the moment we step outside.
“Jesus, it’s hot.”
Torin laughs. “It’ll be cooler in the forest.”
I’m not convinced, but by the time we reach the trail, he’s right. The pines block out the worst of the heat.
“Better?” Torin grins.
“Much.”
We follow the winding trail beneath the pines. Every so often he points something out—a woodpecker disappearing around the side of a trunk, fresh elk tracks in the mud, a hawk circling high above us.
Then he starts telling me about the time Orson fell into the lake while trying to prove bears have perfect balance. By the time he gets to Orson hauling himself out of the water and insisting the log was defective, I’m laughing so hard I have to stop walking.
There’s a look of affection in Torin’s eyes, but then it fades. “You haven’t looked at me the same today.”
I go still, taking in the black eye, the split lip. “It’s been a strange day.”
“Yeah. I guess it has.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Would you have killed Cade if it hadn’t been me?”
He takes a moment to answer. “No.”
“If he’d done the same thing to another woman?”
“I’d have stopped him.”
“But you wouldn’t have killed him.”
“No.”
“Then why was I different?”
“Because you’re my mate.”
A shiver runs through me.
“Yesterday, while you were gone…” I hesitate. “Orson said that.”
“Yeah.”
“So, it’s true?”
“Of course.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I thought you knew.”
“How would I know?”
His eyebrows rise. “I tried to kiss you.”
“I know. But then nothing really happened after that. I started wondering whether I’d read too much into it.”
“You thought I changed my mind?”
“Maybe.”
He reaches for my hand. “I was trying not to push you.”
“Oh,” I mumble. “You could’ve pushed me a little.”
His thumb brushes my knuckles.
“I’m a bear.”
“Uh huh.”
“I don’t go around kissing women for the fun of it.”
I stare at him.
All those years, he knew there was someone out there for him. He wondered who she was. What she’d be like. How they’d meet.
And somehow, impossibly, that person was me.
He waited for me.
The thought sends a rush of emotion through me, so intense I don’t know what to say.
We start walking again, and for a while I’m lost in the thought of it.
“Hell of a meet cute though,” I say.
Torin glances at me. “A what?”
“A meet cute.” I smile. “It’s from romance novels. It’s the moment the hero and heroine meet. The more memorable it is, the better.”
Realization dawns across his face, and he breaks into a grin. “Ours was memorable, all right.”
“It certainly was.”
“I hope it didn’t disappoint you.”
I shake my head. “Not even slightly. It exceeded expectations.”
His eyebrows rise. “You read romance novels?”
“Oh, a guilty pleasure of mine.” I give him a sideways smile. “When the serious stuff gets too much.”
“So, you read about people falling in love instead.”
“Yeah, sometimes.”
“I like that.”
There’s something about the way he says it that makes my heart swell.
He takes another step towards me. “Hannah...”
His smile softens. “I always wondered what it’d be like when I found my mate.”
I hold my breath.
“I sure as hell didn’t imagine I’d have to take out some other guy and protect her from her father.” His eyes blaze. “I can’t change how we started. But I can spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy.”
My throat tightens.
His grin returns. “And if our first meet cute wasn’t everything you’d hoped for...”
A laugh escapes me.
“...we’ll just have another one.”
“Another meet cute?”
“Every week.”
I shake my head, smiling. “You can’t be serious.”
“Completely serious.”
“You’ll stage a different first meeting every week?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“You’re ridiculous.” I shake my head, laughing. “Even my books aren’t this romantic.”
Something shifts in his expression. “Come here.”
He pulls me into his arms and kisses me.
I’m already reaching for him, winding my arms around his neck and pressing myself against him. His hand slides into my hair and he kisses me harder, until I’m breathless and clinging to him.
God, I’ve wanted this.
He tastes faintly of coffee, and beneath it is the clean scent of pine and cedar on his skin.
A low rumble vibrates through his chest.
I smile against his mouth. “Is that your bear?”
He answers by kissing me again. One hand stays tangled in my hair while the other slips beneath my T-shirt, his rough fingertips moving over my waist and up my ribs.
I shiver and press closer.
His hand moves higher, and when his thumb brushes the underside of my breast through my bra, I gasp into his mouth.
Torin makes a rough sound in his throat.
I want more.
I want his hands everywhere. I want to know what it feels like to have nothing between us. And for once, I don’t want to think about what happens next.
I pull back just far enough to speak.
“I’m ready, Torin.”
He’s breathing hard. “For what?”
“To mate with you.”
He stills. “For what?” he asks, though his rough voice tells me he already knows.
“To mate with you.” The words come out little more than a whisper. “Here.”
For a heartbeat he just stares at me. “In the woods?”
I nod. “In your world.”
“Fuck.” He pulls me closer. “You have no idea how badly I want that. But it’s not right.”
“Why? What’s the problem?”
“This is your first time.”
“I know.”
“I was thinking a bed, at least.”
I laugh. “A bed?”
“Maybe candles. Rose petals if I could figure out where the hell to find them.”
“Rose petals?”
“I’m trying to make up for the world’s worst meet cute.”
“You don’t need to.” I slide my arms around his neck. “I don’t want rose petals, Torin. I want this.”
I glance around at the towering pines, sunlight breaking through the branches.
“I want you here. I want my first time with you to be something I’ll remember every time I walk through these woods.”
He’s quiet.
“And I’m not asking because I don’t care where it happens.” I draw him closer. “I’m asking because I do.”
“Fuck, Hannah.”
He kisses me again, and this time there’s no holding back.
A second later, my T-shirt is on the ground. I grab the hem of his and pull it over his head.
For a moment I forget what I was doing.
I’ve seen plenty of Torin over the last few days, but not like this. Not knowing he’s mine to touch.
I run my hands over his chest and pull him back to me.
He backs me against a tree, and I kiss him harder, wanting him closer—
He freezes.
“What is it?”
“Listen.”
I hold still.
At first, I hear only the wind moving through the pines. Then, somewhere down the trail—
“Someone’s coming.” Torin swears and grabs my T-shirt from the ground. “Here.”
I yank it back over my head as he turns toward the trail.
“This better be good!” he bellows, his voice echoing through the trees.
“It is!” comes a distant shout.
I groan.
Orson.
“What is it?” Torin calls.
“Hannah’s dad’s on TV again!”
He sighs. “And you interrupted us to tell me that?”
“No! That’s not all!”
A pause. “They arrested some guy. Her teacher or something.”
“Oh my God,” I gasp.
Torin’s head snaps round to look at me.
“Bennett. The man who let me stay in his cabin.”
His expression hardens. “Shit.”
“We’re coming back now, Orson. See you there,” he yells.
Torin picks up his own shirt and yanks it back on. Then he takes my hand and draws me into one final kiss. “To be continued,” he murmurs.
And then we run.