Page 12 of My Fearless Mountain Man

“Because words describe our reality.”

“Are you? Happy, I mean.”

She bites her bottom lip. “I’ve been chasing happiness for a while. You know, it’s basically promised that if someone does well in school and in college, they’ll get a good job and be happy, but I’ve only been content.”

“Content is better than miserable,” I say, keeping my tone even.

She tilts her head, studying me. “And a stone in your shoe is better than walking through fire, but that doesn’t mean it’s something you settle for.”

I glance at her. She is clever. Thoughtful. Not wrong.

“I don’t think happiness is something you find,” I say. “You build it. Piece by piece.”

She nods slowly, her gaze drifting to the trees. “Maybe. But where you build it matters too. Belonging... feeling like you’re part of something—it’s not nothing. The city doesn’t offer that. Everyone’s racing ahead, too busy to see each other. Out here, things feel… slower. Simpler. Like there’s room to breathe.”

“If you want it badly enough, you’ll make it happen,” I say, but it comes out more clipped than I mean it to.

She turns her head, eyes meeting mine. “That’s what I’ve been doing for the last five days. Trying. Looking.”

I pause, something tight in my chest as I watch her.

Her voice softens. “But I know if I’m too focused on the destination, I’ll miss the good along the way.”

She smiles then, bright and sure.

“And right now? The journey’s been really good.”

“You have a hurt knee and this is good?” I scoff.

Her fingers lightly brush my chest. “I have my reasons.”

“You’re an optimist,” I surmise.

“You keep giving me more reasons to be.”

When I set her down, I make sure that she can drive well enough with only her right leg, then watch as she pulls out. Her eyes flick to me once, then she heads on her way.

Like she should. She should keep going, leave town before she actually gets hurt.

Closing my eyes, I massage my temple and shake my head.

Even though she’s gone, I can still smell her sweet, fruity, yet gentle perfume. It haunts me and when I get home from work, I almost hesitate to toss my shirt in the washer. Snorting at myself, I force myself to do exactly that, get through a shower and go to sleep. That’s what Ineedto do.

Just purge her from my system. Dream about anything else.

“Yes, Calder. Yes,” she moans under me, gripping my shoulders and pulling me tighter as her feathery wings wrap around me.

It doesn’t matter that I’m a demon and she’s an angel, she wants my corruption. I pant and groan as I thrust into her, gripping her ass, memorizing the satiny feel of her skin as her lips part against mine, exhaling across my lips as she moans for me again.

“Nora,” I grit between my teeth. She feels so good, liquid wet heat coating my cock every time I bury myself in her. “Fuck, take it!”

“Please!” She arches against me, her breasts rubbing against my chest until my eyes open to drink in her face.

But my eyes open to darkness. I’m in my own bed, no demon tail, no Nora, nothing but my hard cock and sweaty body. I can’t want her. It’s wrong. She’s so young and I’m not the right man for her. I know that.

But my hand either doesn’t know or doesn’t care. It slides down my body to grip my cock. I shouldn’t do this, not to her, not to the thought of those innocent sweet eyes, to her freckles that demand kisses, to her general purity, but sleep is a hollow dream as long as I’m this hard.

And I want her, in the safety and secrecy of my own bed, I can admit it.

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