Page 69 of Mountain Hero

Damn.

The same thought keeps repeating as I move inside of her, sinking deep, finally bottoming out with each thrust.

How did I get so lucky?

I grab her hips and drive into her, feeling her inner muscles trembling and squeezing, and she groans, “You feel so good. I love feeling you so deep inside me.”

And after Winter finishes again, I finally explode into a supernova of ecstasy, pulsing and throbbing, a white wall of pleasure nearly blinding me. Electricity sizzles through my body. It feels so perfect being joined with her; I don’t ever want to contemplate separating.

But eventually, reluctantly, I pull away from her and dispose of the condom before gathering Winter into my arms. I drape her across my chest, tucking her head under my chin, and press soft kisses to the top of her head.

She sighs, her breath feathering across my skin. Her tone languid and sated, she says, “I want to stay here forever.”

Oh.

My heart flips over.

I know she’s only talking about right now; laying in bed with me.

But.

I like the idea of her staying forever.

Would Christmas be too soon to propose?

I could say the thought stems from the ad on my computer—a photo of a man down on one knee, a ring box held outstretched to the attractive woman in front of him, a picturesque vista of mountains and lakes and acres of trees beyond. The advertisement is for some sort of proposal package offered at a luxury resort near Killington.

But while the Christmas part is new, the idea of proposing has been around longer.

When did I start thinking about spending my life with Winter?

I’m not sure I can pinpoint the exact moment. It’s been more like a wave sweeping over me; a gradual certainty that becomes stronger each day.

Was it when we first made love? When she agreed to move in? Or was it earlier than that? Did my heart know she was mine from our very first night she stayed with me?

While the ad may be coincidental, the thought isn’t. Not since I held Winter in my arms a few hours ago and heard her voice the word I’ve been spinning around in my head for weeks.

Forever.

Which is why I actually click on the ad instead of ignoring it. Instead of focusing on purchase orders, which is the reason I’m at the store and not still home with Winter, I start browsing through photos of happy couples in various stages of pre-marital bliss.

I could take Winter to Killington. Get the deluxe package with the private dinner prepared by a Michelin-starred chef, the suite with a hot tub overlooking the mountains, champagne and strawberries, and even an optional heart made of rose petals arranged on the bed.

Or I could do something here. Propose in the town Winter loves so much. Set up something at home; maybe ask Knox to help me build a gazebo in the woods. I could look through some of her books to get ideas—from my understanding, there’s an engagement in almost all of them—and have the perfect proposal at home.

Not yet, though. Not when Winter is still recovering from everything that happened with Thomas. Physically, she’s fine, but she still has nightmares and flashbacks that the counselor is helping her cope with. On top of adjusting to life without the threat of Thomas hanging over her and working to get her business back off the ground again, I think she needs some time before I throw a huge, potentially life-changing question at her.

Christmas, though… That’s two and a half months away. Hopefully, enough time to plan something special and be sure Winter’s ready.

I guess it gives me time to be sure, too. In theory, I could change my mind. But I seriously doubt it. Not when I feel this way about her.

Except.

Shit.

I haven’t actually told Winter I love her yet. I do—I’ve known it for a while now—but for some stupid reason it never feels like the right moment to tell her. It’ll be right there, on the tip of my tongue, and then something will happen and I think, next time, I’ll tell her. Next time, it’ll be perfect.

Maybe it’s a long-dormant sentimentality awakened, but when I bare my heart to Winter and hand it over to her, I want the moment to be perfect.

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