Page 99 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

So off balance.

So close to losing control.

He’s always so calm, facing each problem logically until he finds the most reasonable solution and implements it effectively. It’s how he has managed to make so much progress at my place while splitting his time.

But this isn’t the same man who left the cabin this morning, not the one who held me all night and well beyond when he should have risen from bed this morning.

And his distress is starting to make what I thought was anormalamount of worry on my part about the discovery on the paper seem woefully inadequate.

Dalton rubs at his temple, and I lean back against the old wooden table that runs along one wall, resting my right hand on my belly, where the baby seems intent on moving around and making her presence known during what appears to be a conversation that’s going to be very intense.

He pauses mid-step, glancing down at my palm pressed over her tiny foot. “Are you okay?”

I nod and smile, trying to encourage him to relax by faking that I am. “She’s just kicking.”

His lips twitch slightly, but instead of reaching out to feel it himself like I had hoped, he resumes pacing, alternatively digging his fingers into the base of his skull and forehead like he’s trying to work through and process something he can’t quite wrap his head around.

“Will you please tell me what’s going on?” I release an exasperated sigh. “I mean, I think I understand, but—”

He pauses his movement. “Youdounderstand.”

That handwriting was so distinct.

So recognizable.

He knows evenIwould be able to place it right away.

“Okay, but is it possible it was left up there at some other time?”

Dalton shakes his head, lacing his hands at the back of his neck. “I don’t think so. There wouldn’t be any reason for him to have been down there. It’s just an empty clearing. And a tiny piece of paper like that wouldn’t have stayedright therefor long.”

He knows this mountain better than anyone except Pops. So, if he says there isn’t any other reason forthatparticular slip of paper to have ended up in the clearing except for if it was brought by the two men who were at the lake, then I believe him.

“Shit, no wonder you’re so rattled.”

“Shouldn’t I be?” He releases his grip on his neck and lets his arms fall to his sides. “You know what this means. You’re not safe here. You and Davey need to go.”

My back stiffens, and his plea from only yesterday—God, was it really only twenty-four hours ago that I sat next to that tub?—rushes back so clearly it’s as if he just said it. That insistence that I never consider leaving the mountain. If this is what he’s been contemplating, it would explain the nervous energy. “Go where?”

He stops pacing and approaches me, stopping close enough that I can see the tension in his jaw, his muscles twitching under his T-shirt. “Somewhere safe until all this blows over, until I can get it resolved, until I can bring you and Davey back here, where you’re supposed to be.”

Where we’re supposed to be…

Such a simple statement that is anything but.

“Where’s that?”

Last night was incredible—in spite of all the reasons it shouldn’t have been—and when I woke this morning, it finally felt like things were settling. There was this sense of belonging, stronger than I’ve experienced since Dave died.

But we never got a chance to discuss what any of it meant or where my children and I belong in all this.

Dalton reaches out and slides his hands along my waist, pressing against me right over where my little girl was just kicking. “Wherever I am.”

My heart skips a beat, and I draw in a long, slow breath. The finality and surety with which he made that statement isn’t the kind you hear the day after you sleep with someone for the first time. “You know, you kind of went from one to one hundred pretty quickly.”

He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Does that scare you?”

I open my mouth to answer “yes,” becauseanyonewould be overwhelmed and terrified by a man saying something like that so damn fast.

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