Page 10 of Craving the Mountain Man

He raises an eyebrow at my bossy tone, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, ma'am."

I turn my back, giving him privacy as he changes. The rustling of fabric behind me sends my imagination into overdrive, and I feel heat creep up my neck.

"It's safe to look now," Grayson says after a moment, a hint of teasing in his voice.

I turn to find him in dry clothes, his hair still damp and tousled. The sight makes my heart skip a beat.

"Better?" I ask, aiming for a light tone.

He nods, then looks around the small tent with a frown. "I should go check on the others, make sure everyone's settled for the night."

"Grayson," I say, catching his arm as he moves to leave. "You need to rest too. You can't take care of anyone if you run yourself into the ground."

He looks down at my hand on his arm, then back up to my face. Something flickers in his eyes—vulnerability, maybe, or a longing that mirrors my own.

"Stay," I whisper, surprising us both. "Please."

For a long moment, he's silent, and I fear I've overstepped. But then he nods, almost imperceptibly.

"Okay," he says softly.

We settle into an awkward dance, trying to find comfortable positions in the cramped space. Eventually, we end up side by side, our shoulders touching as we lie on top of the sleeping bags.

The storm continues to rage outside, but in here, it feels like we're in our own little world. The tension between us is palpable, a living thing that fills the small space.

"Thank you," I say into the darkness. "For keeping us safe out there."

Grayson is quiet for so long that I think he might have fallen asleep. But then he speaks, his voice low and husky in the darkness.

"It's my job," he says. "To keep people safe on this mountain."

I turn my head to look at him, barely able to make out his profile in the dim light. "Is that all it is? Just a job?"

He's silent again, and I can almost feel him wrestling with how to respond. Finally, he sighs. "No," he admits quietly. "Not just a job. Not with you."

My breath catches in my throat. "What do you mean?"

Grayson shifts, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me. His eyes seem to glow in the darkness, filled with an intensity that makes my heart race.

"I mean that you've gotten under my skin, Skylar Hayes," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "You and your endless optimism, your determination, your infuriating ability to make me smile when all I want to do is scowl. You make me feel things I thought I'd buried a long time ago."

I reach up, cupping his cheek in my hand. His stubble is rough against my palm. "Is that such a bad thing?" I whisper.

He leans into my touch, his eyes closing briefly. "It scares the hell out of me," he admits. "I don't... I'm not good at this, Skylar. At letting people in. The last time I did..."

"What happened?" I ask gently, sensing the pain behind his words.

Grayson takes a shaky breath. "I lost someone. On this mountain. My brother. We were climbing together, and I... I couldn't save him."

My heart breaks for him. I sit up, wrapping my arms around him without hesitation. He stiffens for a moment, then melts into the embrace, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

"It wasn't your fault," I murmur, running my fingers through his hair. "The mountain can be cruel, unpredictable. You can't control everything, Grayson."

He pulls back slightly, meeting my gaze. "That's what scares me about you," he says, softly. "You make me want to try. To risk it all again."

The air between us is electric, charged with unspoken longing. Slowly, giving him every chance to pull away, I lean in. Our lips meet in an achingly tender kiss, which quickly ignites into something more passionate.

Grayson's arms tighten around me as he deepens the kiss, pouring years of pent-up emotion into it. I respond with equal fervor, my fingers tangling in his hair as I press myself closer to him.

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