Page 54 of Loud Unspoken Memories

He hops up. “I’m going to see if I can fix the cell tower.”

My eyes widen. “You are?”

“The snow stopped.” He goes to the window and gazes out. “The sky looks better. Maybe we’re out of the woods… so to speak.”

I pull my knees to my chest. “If you’re going, I’m going with you.”

“It’s still cold as shit out there.”

“I’ve walked to the car and back. The tower isn’t farther than that, is it?”

“It’s about a mile and a half. But why come when you could stay here in front of a warm fire?”

“Why?” I wave my hand around. “Because I’m not staying here while you risk your life. What if you fall and break your neck? What if you get lost?”

He scoffs. “One, I won’t get lost. Believe me. Two, I’ve climbed up there a half-dozen times. Haven’t we gone over this?”

“How high is it?”

“Not as high as you’d think. Some cell towers can be two-hundred feet tall. Mine’s only fifty.”

I huff out a breath. “Onlyfifty? Are you crazy?”

“Depends who you ask,” he says with a wink.

I don’t even have time to process the fact that Dallas Montana just winked at me, because all I can do is envision him falling and leaving me a heartbroken mess. Because even though Charles was my son’s father and my best friend, losing Dallas would hit differently. It would pierce my heart in such a way that I’m not sure I’d recover. And once again, I’m asking myselfhowI could feel like this in just a few short days.

“Are you coming?” he asks, lacing up his boots as I stare at him from the bed.

I trade my yoga pants for jeans. I don’t bother going into the bathroom to change. It’s not like he hasn’t seen every inch of me. When I turn back around, he’s watching me pensively. Is he thinking how casual I’m becoming with him? How comfortable? And further, if heisthinking those things, is he okay with it?

“We’d, uh, better go.” He thumbs to the door. “Come on, Bex.”

On his way, he stops at the closet and pulls out a tool belt. He straps it around his waist then hoists a rope and harness over his shoulder. Thank God for that. At least he’s not totally insane.

I look up at the sky along the way. It’s still overcast, but much lighter than before. These clouds don’t look like they’ll bring any more snow. I glance over at Dallas, not sure how I feel about that.

The entire walk, I think of Charlie. I’m used to being away from him, having shared custody since his birth, so this really isn’t much different, with the major distinction of him not being with his father. But I have to believe he’s doing okay. It’s the only way to get through this.

I still don’t know how to tell Charlie about his father’s death. It’s what keeps me up at night. Well, that and the unknown consequences of the guy sleeping next to me.

“There it is.” He points ahead to a clearing.

It’s the only clearing in the woods, and I marvel at the crisp, white, pristine snow that blankets the ground. I stop and take it all in knowing this may be the only time I get to see something as awe-inspiring. For as far as my eye can see, nothing disturbs the terrain. There aren’t even any animal tracks—for which I’m grateful.

My hand covers my heart. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Dallas says from behind.

But when I turn, he’s not even looking out across the impressive white landscape. He’s looking atme.

My heart stops and then restarts. Our eyes hold each other’s gaze. Our feet are frozen in place. I’ve never wanted to be kissed more than I do in this instant. In this very place. Surrounded by this incredible scenery.

Bex barks and prances toward a distant tree, seemingly to chase a squirrel or bird. I try not to be too mad at him, he is, after all, just a dog. But the moment between Dallas and me has passed, and he slogs through the untouched snow, blazing a path for me to follow as we make our way to the tower.

The closer we get, the more anxiety I feel. The tower gets taller and taller with every step I take toward it.

When we reach the base, he puts on the harness and steps on the ladder.

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