Page 13 of The Mountains Edge

Now back home, images of Daisy kept coming up.

Scout's low woof makes me realize I've been staring at the same piece of wood for an hour. The ghost of Daisy's lips haunts me, the way she felt pressed against that wall. My hands clench, wanting the feel of her again.

"Shut up," I tell the dog. He just wags his tail.

My hands are still sore from the traps. I know I should take a break from carving, but staying busy keeps me from drivingdown the mountain. From seeking her out. From pressing her against the wall and finishing what w nearly started.

The way she'd said my name, looking up through those lashes. Christ.

The chisel slips, nicking my palm.

"Damn it." Blood wells, dark against the wood.

Scout's at my side instantly, concerned. Luna follows, both dogs pressing close.

"I'm fine." But my hands are shaking. Not from the cut.

From need.

The phone buzzes. It was probably Jake checking in. We've been monitoring the trails since the traps, making sure no other campers had had any sightings.

But it's not Jake.

Daisy: The furniture misses you.

A picture: the half restored table, her tools laid out exactly as I showed her.

Daisy: Maybe I miss you a little.

Something cracks in my chest.

Before I can respond, another message:

Daisy: Store's quiet tonight. Could use help with that finish-matching technique you promised to teach me.

Daisy: I'm still wearing your shirt.

"Fuck."

Scout's already at the door, Luna right behind him.

***

The Trading Post's lights glow through the rain. My traitor dogs bail out before I fully stop, heading for the back door they somehow now have privileges to use.

Daisy's waiting in the doorway, and fuck me, she wasn't lying about the shirt. My old flannel hangs to mid-thigh over tiny sleep shorts, her legs bare and endless. Her hair's loose for once, falling in waves past her shoulders.

"That was fast." Her smile is pure sin.

My blood runs hot. "Daisy."

"Afraid to be alone with me?"

"Terrified."

The honesty surprises us both.

She softens, moving closer. "Why?"

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