I wait for Emma on my front porch, my stomach bursting with excitement.
I was awake before the sun came up this morning. An energy streaming through my blood like I haven’t felt in years. Gathering her breakfast from the berry patch, fetching the freshest eggs to give her proper nutrients, cooking it all up and sharing it with her.
It’s the perfect morning.
Right up until that moment. Those glossy lips looked so damn tempting, I had to turn away. What the hell was I thinking? The way my old shirt hung off her body, doing nothing to hide the delicate shape of her curves. Fuck, then she went and grabbed my hand. I could just devour her, throw her over my shoulder and spend all day making love to her in my cabin.
I can’t be thinking like this.
I have to get outside, out of the cabin so I don’t give in.
Eventually Emma joins me, and I lead the way up the trail. Georgie is happily trotting up the mountain in front of us, sniffing the forest floor as we wind up the steep incline. I take my time, helping Emma up a few rough bits of slippery rocks and by the time we get to the top, we’re both huffing and puffing.
“Come over this way,” I tell Emma, guiding her to my favorite spot.
I watch as her eyes light up. The richness of her blue gaze sparkles as she smiles at the view. Miles and miles of mountains stretch out as far as you can see, the rough terrain drenched in forests, hidden lakes and secret locations of Misty Peaks.
“It’s beautiful,” Emma says, long blond hair flowing in the breeze.
I don’t take my eyes off her when I say, “Sure is.”
“We’ll go back down this trail,” I step across to a path well worn. “It’ll take us back to my old cabin. The one in your picture.”
“I would love to see that, thank you.”
We stop for a break, sharing a snack and swapping stories. I learn more about Emma’s life in the city, and how tough she’s had it since her parents died. I cringe at the thought of her feeling so unsafe every day. I fought so damn hard to make sure this country was safe for everyone, and hearing that our own people are making life a misery for others makes my blood boil.
“You should move to the mountains,” I say eventually, holding out the last chocolate chip cookie for Emma. “it suits you, and you really seem to love it.”
She takes the cookie and scoffs. “And what would I do for work?”
I shrug. “Just live on the land, like I do.”
“I need to earn a living, Jack. I’m qualified for nothing, and that includes living like you do.”
I lean back on my palms and watch as a flock of birds swoop down on a ledge below.
“At least you’d be safe,” I grunt, locking eyes with her. “The city isn’t a good place for you. Come out here, enjoy nature and everything else will sort itself out.”
She looks off in the distance, deep in thought. “Mom always said she’d like to live by the beach…”
I shake my head, my nose turning in disgust. “Fuck that. Too much sand for me.”
Emma turns around, her mouth agape with joy. “That’s what I always said!”
We laugh together and joke about sand going to places it’s not invited. Emma loses herself, doubled over in laughter when I tell her a story about the time I surprised her father with a handful of sand shoved down his military slacks.
I can’t help but smile when she swipes away a tear of joy, her laughter slowly settling down. That sweet mouth catches my gaze, and I slide my tongue across my lips.
Like a starved animal, I need it. Need her.
The conversation deepens and we imagine a new life for Emma on the mountain as we hike back down. I can’t help but watch the curve of her ass jiggle in the jeans I collected from Misty Peaks this morning. I can hear the smile in her voice as we walk and talk, her sweet tone echoing off the trees, making my heart pound hard inside my chest.
She’s starting to live inside her dream. My dream. The dream of having her here with me on the mountain.
She’s stopped at the edge of a fork in the path, turning to face me. Tiny beads of sweat make me want to reach out and dry her forehead, so I shove my hands deeper into my pockets.
“Okay. So I’ve got a job at the bar, you’ve fixed up my car and I go for a jog along these beautiful trails every morning…” She ticks off the list of her imaginary life with her fingers, pausing on the path to catch some air. “There’s just one thing missing.”