Page 50 of Since Day One

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

I shook my head, and he lifted a brow.

“You too?” I replied.

“Couldn’t seem to get comfortable. Or warm,” he answered, a smile in his voice.

Silence again fell between us, and I kicked at the snow with the toe of my boot, unsure of what was happening, frustrated that he was confusing me even more.

He swung to face me with a challenging glare. “Are you going to come back with me so we can sleep?”

Those words were the last thing I expected him to say, and I blinked stupidly. “What?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. We both know neither of us can sleep because we aren’t with each other. So, are you coming, or should I go change and we start training horses at one in the morning?”

“You’re not annoyed at me?” I asked, and he furrowed his brows.

“Why the hell would I be annoyed?”

I shoved off of the railing to face him. “After we got back, you didn’t say a word.”

He stepped closer. “Well, you didn’t say anything either,” he replied, watching me intently.

“Well, I…” I paused.

“Well, you what?” he asked, stepping closer again.

“I wanted to, I just didn’t know what to say with everyone around,” I answered as Gunnar fully closed the distance between us.

“Me neither, and I’m done trying to figure that shit out.” He cupped my cheeks and crushed his lips against mine.

Time froze like the snow around us. Nothing in the universe mattered but the sensation of his mouth on mine and the gentle aggression he kissed me with. Warmth from his hands spread across my face, his hot breath mixing with mine under the cold approval of the moon.

And I melted into him, throwing my arms around his waist and pressing back as deeply as I could. My body was on fire, spinning perfection as he tasted better than I could’ve ever imagined. Beautiful and soft, and as desperate as I was.

He broke away for half a second, sliding one hand around the nape of my neck. Driving his fingers into my hair, he gently tugged to tilt my head up before crashing back in for another soul-stirring, greedy kiss.

Our lips moved together, taking as much as we were giving. An untouchable moment, intertwining our lives together, in more ways than one.

I felt him trembling, his heartbeat drumming against my chest, as he pulled me closer urgently. I twisted my fingers into his coat as tightly as I could, holding him in place. He was warm and passionate, demanding but tender, and I knew I’d forever crave the sparks rushing between my lips and his.

My eyes remained closed as he slowly pulled away, breaking the Velcro of our kiss that sealed us together. He pressed his forehead against mine as our heavy breaths wreathed around us like a ghostly ribbon tying us together, my body flush against his frame. That was what a kiss should feel like. No, it was better than what I’d imagined. I smiled and ran my tongue over my swollen lips, tasting him, as he brushed a calloused thumb back and forth across my cheek.

“Ready to go to bed, Princess?” he quietly asked, and I could only nod. His lips gently met mine lightly once more, and then he lowered his palms and took a single step away. His fingers found mine and tightened as he led the way. I followed willingly with my hand entangled in his.

No word was spoken as we walked into the lodge and took our boots off. Carrying them, we treaded softly up the stairs so the spurs didn’t jingle and wake his parents up. The knotted, wooden steps I’d passed earlier rounded upwards, and at the top was a small landing with a black rug before a door that blocked our way.

Setting my boots beside a neat row of several different pairs that were already lined up, he turned the knob and entered, pushing the hood off of his messy brown hair. I pulled my beanie off, following him into his own wing of the house. It was a simple design—a small kitchen with a single sectional to the right, facing a mounted television.

Light brown hardwood floors in the kitchen, contrasted with the white granite island, littered with a stack of papers and a bowl of fruit, and the stretch of pastel blue cupboards lining the wall. A single window above the copper sink gave a view to the haunting snowy forest outside. Four chairs circled his round, dining table that looked unused. Soft, beige carpet with white trim running along the walls stretched the rest of the home and ran down the small hallway in front of us.

Gunnar watched me scan his home, waiting.

I softly smiled, and he walked toward the hallway. I didn’t need him to verbally invite me, as I silently followed him to the end of the hallway where he pushed open an unlatched door. In the middle of the wall to the left, his disheveled bed waited, evidence of his terrible night’s rest. A dresser sat across from the foot of his bed, a small mirror on top of the dark oak that matched his headboard and footboard.

Closed closet doors across the room pulled the neat, masculine look together with a couple of books resting on an end table. No dirty clothes sat on the floor, nor did any linger in sight.

Gunnar shut the door behind me and pulled open a dresser drawer. The blinds were drawn closed on the window that sat above his bed. The only light came from the lamp that was in the corner of the room, casting strange shadows around the unfamiliar space.

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