Chapter 8
Jameson
The storm had passed sometime in the night, leaving behind the clean smell of rain-washed earth and the distant drip of water from the eaves.
The fire had burned low.
And sometime between midnight and morning, reality had crept back in.
Leah was a tourist.
Tourists left.
I’d broken my cardinal rule.
For a long moment, I just lay there, watching her sleep.
Her hair had dried into wild copper curls, nothing like the sleek bob she’d been wearing when I first saw her on the trail.
Freckles dusted her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, and her lips were slightly parted, soft and pink in the early morning light.
She looked peaceful. Beautiful. And completely out of place in my life.
The thought hit me like cold water. In the firelight, with the storm raging outside and her body moving against mine, everything had felt right.
But now, with daylight creeping in and reality waiting just beyond the cabin door, I wasn’t sure what any of it meant.
Leah stirred against my side, snuggling deeper into my arms, and something tight twisted inside my chest.
Last night had felt simple. But this morning didn’t.
I didn’t regret a damn thing. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was how easy it had been to forget every rule I’d made for myself.
If Boone could see me now.
Leah let out a light moan, her lashes fluttering open. Her green eyes found mine, and for a heartbeat, neither of us moved.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Morning.” The word came out softer than I’d intended, hinting at the depth my feelings had grown for her in such a short amount of time.
A flush crept up her cheeks as awareness settled in… and she remembered exactly what we’d done and how many times we’d done it last night.
She pulled the wool blanket a little higher over her bare shoulders, suddenly shy in a way she hadn’t been last night when she’d been crying out my name.
I understood the impulse. The intensity of what had passed between us felt fragile somehow, like morning frost that might melt away if we looked at it too directly.
I wanted to pull her closer. Wanted to pretend the outside world didn’t exist past these walls.
Instead, I sat up slowly, putting space between us before I made a promise I wouldn’t know how to keep.
Every part of me wanted to stay in this cabin forever, reality be damned.
But as soon as Tucker unlocked the gate, any early morning hiker could discover us in here, naked and sprawled out in front of the dying fire.
City women didn’t wake up in cabins and decide to stay in a place like Red Oak Mountain forever.
She’d go back to Boston and her real life. And I’d be the wild mountain story she told her friends about over drinks.
“Storms make things feel… bigger than they are sometimes.” The words rambled out of my mouth of their own accord, and I watched her shrink away from me, the wound in her heart temporarily visible on her face.
The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back. Because nothing about last night had felt small.
She shifted closer, warm and soft, then whispered, “Don’t worry, stranger. You already told me you don’t play for keeps. Last night was…” her mouth moved silently as she struggled to find the right words, “Well, let’s just say I don’t regret a moment of it. And I hope you don’t either.”
Every instinct I had screamed to forget caution and keep her right where she was.
So I got up and grabbed my pants before I could say something reckless like ‘stay’.
“We should probably head back soon. Folks will start hiking once the trail dries out.” I shoved one leg into my pants, then the other, before grabbing my boots. “If we stay much longer, we’ll be giving people a show they didn’t expect.”
This was the smart move. Cut ties before we got in too deep.
She had a full life out there somewhere.
And a big-city woman with a fancy career like her wouldn’t be satisfied with my humble life for long. Besides, I spent more nights out in the woods than at home.
Would she be satisfied sitting at home waiting for me to come back from another hiking tour?
Naw.
Leah’s lips curved into a patient smile I imagine she’d given to many other men before in her life.
“Sure thing, Jameson,” she said as she rolled out of bed sleepily, her whole body on display, naked and fearless in the morning light. “But we don’t have to pretend we didn’t enjoy last night.”
Leah hunted for her clothes, putting them on slowly as though she didn’t mind being naked with me.
I was already fully dressed and ready to go, every cell in my body vibrating uncomfortably.
When she bent to tie her hiking boots, I let my eyes trace the curve of her back, remembering how it had felt beneath my hands. Her curls fell in front of her face, and she gave me a shy, confident smile, as though she knew secrets about what was happening inside my heart right now.
“You okay with this?” I growled as we walked out and left the cabin behind.
“Of course I am. I’m a grown woman, Jameson. Don’t worry about me. But I did have fun. I wouldn’t mind hearing you admit that you liked it, too.”
I opened and closed my mouth half a dozen times, trying to find the right words to tell her how I felt about last night.
Leah was magical. She was everything a woman should be. She was soft and delightful, and I wanted to keep her forever.
In the end, I didn’t find the right words, so I tucked my hand on her lower back as we started the hike to the trailhead, hoping that my touch could tell her how I felt.
It seemed to communicate something, because her smile widened, and even though we walked the rest of the way in silence, I felt like we were having a quiet conversation that only our souls could hear.
The morning sun dappled through the trees, and birdsong filled the air. The only faint reminders of the wild storm we’d ridden out last night were the damp earth beneath our feet and the fresh ozone scent of rain in the air.
But what happens now? The question hung unspoken in the air, and I didn’t have an answer for it. Even though I knew I better find some words fast, or she was going to slip right out of my life forever.
Tucker’s truck was already at the gate when we arrived, the park ranger climbing out with his coffee thermos in hand. He raised an eyebrow when he saw us emerge from the trail together.
Tucker’s mouth twitched like he was holding back a grin. “Well, well,” he said, unlocking the gate. “Didn’t think I’d see you bringing company out of the woods at sunrise, Jameson. Folks’ll start thinking you finally retired that ‘no women’ rule of yours.”
It was impossible not to notice the wary look in Leah’s eyes when Tucker said that.
Tucker chuckled under his breath. “Boone’s gonna owe me money. He swore you’d never be the type to get tangled up with a tourist. But I knew you’d fall for one eventually.”
I ignored the look Leah shot me and focused on tightening the straps on my pack needlessly instead.
Then Tucker turned to Leah. “Don’t worry about me, hon. I’m just razzing. Everyone in town knows Jameson doesn’t do relationships.”
My blood began to boil.
“Someone named Tucker locked us in last night,” I explained. “We were trapped in here. A cell tower must be down because we couldn’t even call you to come unlock it. Did you know your emergency phone by the gate’s broken?”
Tucker’s eyes creased. “Damn. Sorry about that. Is that why you two spent the night? That phone’s been busted for years.
I saw the rental car, but figured whoever drove it must’ve carpooled out with someone else.
And I knew you were probably planning to camp down in the hollow anyway,” he nodded toward my truck. “I recognized your rig.”
“It worked out fine,” I growled. “We sheltered in the old trapper cabin.”
“Smart thinking.” Tucker took a long sip of his coffee, his eyes moving between me and Leah with obvious curiosity.
Leah excused herself to put her things in her car, and I waited until she was out of earshot before stepping closer to Tucker.
“Listen,” I said quietly, “quit razzing us, okay? You’re going to scare her off.”
“You usually do that all on your own.”
It was hard to get the words out, but I admitted, “This one’s different. I kind of… like her.”
Tucker’s lips curled up into a grin. “Well, ain’t that some shit. Jameson McCall settling down. What’s next? Amos is going to drop down on one knee and propose?”
I gritted my teeth. I liked Amos, but we were nothing alike. He ran towards women, and I normally did everything I could to run from them.
“Don’t go spreading it around.” Then I looked off in the distance as though there was something very interesting out there. “We… might have damaged the bed in the cabin. The frame gave out.”
Tucker’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. “The historical display bed?”
“Yeah. I’ll come back out this week and fix it. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”
A slow grin spread across Tucker’s face, his eyes darting to where Leah was rummaging through her rental car. “Guess it was a wild storm to ride out.”
I felt heat creep up the back of my neck. “Yeah. Something like that.”
He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “I won’t ask questions. Just get the bed fixed before the historical society does their biannual inspection.”
“Thanks, man,” I nodded and headed toward Leah, who was sitting in her car with a frustrated expression on her face.
“It won’t start,” she said, turning the key again. The engine made a weak clicking sound and then nothing. “The cold must have killed the battery.”
“Pop the hood and let me look.”
She did, and I leaned in. The battery terminals were corroded, probably hadn’t been cleaned in years. Typical rental car maintenance. I grabbed a wire brush and some baking soda from my truck’s emergency kit and got to work cleaning the connections while Leah watched.
“You just carry that stuff around with you?” she asked.
“Always.” I scrubbed at the corrosion, knocking loose the crusty buildup. “Never know when you’ll need it.”
“That’s very… prepared of you.”
I glanced up and caught her giving me a big smile that wrinkled the corners of her eyes.
Something in my chest loosened at the sight of it.
She’d be beautiful even when she was an old woman. I could imagine her as a grandma, holding babies on her lap, with that warm smile of hers soothing their troubles away.
After setting up the charging cables between our vehicles, I hopped in my truck and turned it on, revving my engine to give her car some juice.
That woman had managed to get under my hard, cold heart somehow. I wasn’t the kind of man who daydreamed about babies and grandmas.
My eyes hooded over. I hadn’t even known my grandparents.
My little sis and I had just grown up with our mom and dad. A tiny part of my newly formed heart clenched at the thought of it.
What would my life have been like if I’d had some grandparents around? Or even an aunt or an uncle? Someone who didn’t have fighting in their veins?
“Try it now,” I grunted.
She turned the key, and the engine roared to life.
“You’re amazing. Seriously, is there anything you can’t do?”
“Plenty of things.” I closed the hood and wiped my hands on my pants. “But cars and campfires aren’t on that list.”
We stood there in the morning sunlight, the engines of our vehicles idling, and time stretched between us.
It was our last moment together. Our final goodbye.
This was the part where she drove back to her cabin, and I drove back to my life, and we pretended last night was just one of those things that happened sometimes.
Except I didn’t want to pretend.
“I guess this is goodbye,” Leah said softly, and the words landed in my chest. “I’m glad we met, stranger. And thanks for taking care of me. I would have been lost out here last night without you around.”
I looked at her standing there in the golden morning light, her wild curls framing her green eyes that saw right through me, and I realized I’d been lying to myself for years.
I’d told myself I was better off alone, that love only complicated things.
How long had I believed that keeping people at arm’s length was the smart play?
But looking at Leah, I didn’t feel smart. I felt like a fool who’d been hiding from something beautiful because he was too scared to reach for it.
“Does it have to be?” The words came out rough.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
I stepped closer, “I don’t want to say goodbye, Leah. I… I think I want to say hello.”
She looked up at me with confusion on her face. “But I thought—”
I didn’t wait for her to finish. Instead, I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her, soft and slow and nothing like the desperate hunger of last night.
This kiss was a question and a beginning. A promise of something I wasn’t sure I knew how to give, but wanted to try anyway.
When I pulled back, her eyes were shining.
“How long are you in town for?” I rumbled. “Maybe we can see each other again before you leave.”
There was a group camp scheduled for tonight, and I was supposed to be the lead. But for Leah, I’d call Boone and tell him he had to take the group out solo this time.
After the shit he pulled when he got together with his wife, Katie, he owed me one.
The only question was, did Leah want to experience more of me before she ran back to her regular life? Or had one night been enough for her?