Page 15 of Stranded with the Mountain Man

"Probably," I agree, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck."When has that ever stopped us?"

A reluctant smile tugs at his lips."You'll leave again," he says, the words carrying a weight of old pain."When the roads clear. When your house is fixed.When your sabbatical ends. You'll go back to Atlanta where you belong."

The repeated phrase cuts deeper than he likely intended."Maybe I don't know where I belong anymore."

His eyes open, studying me with an intensity that makes me shiver."Don't say things you don't mean, Dee-Dee.Not about this."

"I'm not," I insist, framing his face with my hands."I came back to decide whether Serenity Hollow could be home again.That decision just got a lot more complicated."

He kisses me again, softer this time, a question rather than a demand.I answer with equal gentleness, trying to convey what I'm not sure I can put into words, that being here with him feels right in a way nothing has in years.That beneath the accomplished scientist I've become, there's still a part of me that belongs to these mountains.To him.

When Bear nudges between us, clearly feeling left out, we break apart with reluctant laughter.

"Your dog has terrible timing," I tell Rosco, scratching behind Bear's ears.

"He's protective." Rosco doesn't step back, keeping me loosely caged between his body and the counter."Can't blame him for that."

The double meaning isn't lost on me."I'm not going to hurt you, Ross."

Something vulnerable flickers across his face before his expression smooths."Let's not make promises we can't keep, yeah?This is... whatever it is. We don't need to label it."

The retreat is subtle but unmistakable.He's giving us both an out, a way to protect himself if--when--I leave again.

I should take it. Should agree to keep things casual, uncomplicated.It would be the sensible choice.

Instead, I rise on tiptoes, pressing another kiss to his lips."Too late. I'm already keeping notes and forming hypotheses."

He groans, but there's a smile in it."God save me from scientists."

"Too late for that too." I slip from between him and the counter, heart lighter than it's been in days.

But before I can take more than two steps, Rosco's hand catches my wrist, his grip firm but gentle.The unexpected contact sends heat racing up my arm.I turn, finding his eyes darker than before, that careful restraint finally cracking.

"Deena." The way he says my name is a question and an answer all at once.

"Yeah?" My voice comes out breathier than intended.

"I'm tired of fighting this." His thumb traces circles on the inside of my wrist, setting my pulse racing."Tired of pretending I don't want you."

The confession breaks something open between us.This time when he pulls me back, I go willingly, my body colliding with his solid chest.His mouth finds mine with more urgency than before, one hand tangling in my hair while the other slides down to grip my hip.

I melt into him, arms winding around his neck as the kiss deepens.His beard scratches pleasantly against my skin, the contrast of rough and gentle intoxicating.When his tongue traces the seam of my lips, I open for him eagerly, a soft moan escaping as he explores my mouth with the same thorough attention he gives everything.

"Bedroom," I manage when we break for air."Now."

He pulls back slightly, studying my face."You sure about this?"

"I've never been more sure of anything." I rise on tiptoes, pressing a softer kiss to his lips."I want you, Ross. I've wanted you since the moment I landed on your doorstep."

Something primal flashes in his eyes.In one fluid motion, he lifts me, hands gripping the backs of my thighs as my legs instinctively wrap around his waist.The position brings our bodies into perfect alignment, the hard evidence of his desire pressing exactly where I need it most.

"Hold on," he murmurs against my neck, already moving us through the cabin with surprising grace given our entangled state.

Bear watches our progress with curious eyes before settling back on his bed with a huff, apparently deciding this human behavior isn't worth his attention.

The guest room is closer, but Rosco carries me straight to his bedroom without hesitation.The space is exactly what I'd expect--spartan but comfortable, dominated by a large bed with a handcrafted headboard that I realize with a start he must have made himself.

He sets me down gently at the foot of the bed, his hands lingering on my hips as if reluctant to break contact.The brief separation allows reality to intrude, bringing questions I need answered before we go further.

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