Page 11 of His Stormy Seduction

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to regulate my breathing into an even pattern. Get it together, Bonnie...

But then Garrett's arms tighten fractionally, pulling me even more snugly into that solid frame as his nose grazes the sensitive skin just below my ear. The shudder that wracks my form has nothing to do with the cold seeping in from outside.

"Relax," he murmurs in that deep, gravelly tone that reverberates straight through me. "You're safe. Just focus on my voice..."

And slowly, inevitably, I find myself melting into the steady strength cradling me. The tension begins seeping from my muscles, my body instinctively attuning to the even cadence of Garrett's breaths against my nape. In... out... in... out...

I let the sound and solid presence of him become my anchor in the impenetrable darkness, a tidal rhythm to cling to when the world narrows to this cramped, suffocating space. And gradually, my own breathing evens out to match his, my heart rate steadying.

"That's it," he rumbles in approval. "Just breathe..."

The low vibration of his voice against my skin has me melting impossibly deeper into his embrace. I never imagined such a simple act could feel so intimate. Like the world has contracted to just the minuscule space our bodies occupy, shared breaths passing between us on a continuous loop of exquisite closeness.

And in this strange, suspended moment, the walls don't seem so constricting. I'm not alone, isolated in the void. I'm wrapped in the protective strength of Garrett's arms, coddled within the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

It's... nice. More than nice. A feeling of peace and security unlike any I've experienced before.

As the minutes pass, the tension seeps from my muscles, my head lolling back to rest in the curve of Garrett's powerful shoulder. And as his fingers trace idle patterns against my bare skin, I let my eyes flutter closed.

"Tell me more about yourself," I murmur, my thoughts wandering back to the stories he told me in the shed. "What was it like growing up out here?"

He shifts infinitesimally, and for a moment, I think he's going to shut down, to deflect the attempt at deepening the intimacy between us with that gruff stoicism of his. But then he lets out a low sigh, the warm gust fanning across my cheek.

"It was the best," he rumbles at last. "And the hardest."

I listen in silence as he describes a childhood spent roaming these woods, learning every nuance of the landscape from his park ranger father. The thrill of scrambling up seemingly insurmountable rock faces before he'd even hit double-digits. The quiet wonder of watching sunrises from remote vistas most people will never witness. The profound connection with the natural world that became as vital as the blood in his veins.

But there was also the loneliness that came from living so remotely, the constant undercurrent of danger, the ever-present specter of grief that haunted every rescue mission...

“Where’s your dad now?” I ask.

"He's gone," Garrett says after a long silence, his voice thick with emotion. "Died leading a climb with some kids from the local summer camp. Me and my buddies were part of that group, all gung-ho teenagers thinking we were invincible." He lets out a mirthless chuckle. "We had no idea how quickly things could go sideways out here."

"Garrett, I'm so sorry," I whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of my own eyes. I can't even fathom the trauma of witnessing something so horrific, the unimaginable grief of losing a parent in that manner. Suddenly, his almost obsessive need to protect makes heartbreaking sense.

He gives me a sad smile then, covering my hand with his calloused one and pressing a tender kiss to my palm. "It was a long time ago, but you never really get over something like that, you know? It changes you."

We just breathe together for long moments. When he speaks again, a new edge of determination underpins the gruffness.

"That day set me on the path to do whatever it takes to prevent others from suffering the same tragedy. I owed it to my dad to honor his sacrifice, even if it means being overprotective, or a hard-ass, or whatever you want to call it."

As Garrett shares glimpses into the man beneath that protective armor, I find myself utterly mesmerized. There's a depth and quiet intensity to him that I never could have imagined this afternoon. An old soul who has witnessed the highest peaks of life's majesty as well as the darkest abysses of tragedy.

And yet through it all, there remains an unbreakable core, a devotion so profound that it's clearly what drives his every action, every decision.

"Now it's your turn," he rumbles. “Why are you the way that you are?”

I let out a soft chuckle, nestling deeper into the comforting circle of his arms. "Well, you can blame my wanderlust on my parents. They were the original free spirits, a couple of nature-loving nomads who raised me on the road."

Closing my eyes, I'm transported back to those carefree childhood memories of life on the open road, bouncing from state park to state park in our beat-up RV. The endless summers spent swimming in crystalline lakes, hiking through verdant forests, building campfires under blankets of star-studded skies.

"We were a tight-knit little trio, homeschooled and living off the grid, just soaking up all the natural wonders this country has to offer." I pause, a nostalgic smile tugging at my lips. “I guess being so intimately immersed in nature awakened this insatiable hunger in me to witness more of it, to capture and share those untamed pockets of the world that most people never get to see."

"It takes a certain breed," he agrees with a low rumble of laughter.

"I'll say..." My voice trails off as a wide yawn overtakes me, the day's events and warmth of Garrett's solid frame suddenly catching up to me in a bone-deep fatigue. My eyelids feel impossibly heavy, like lead weights dragging them down.

"Get some rest," Garrett murmurs, giving me a gentle squeeze. "I've got watch."

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