Page 50 of Love At First Roar
Her fingers trembled on the edges of the paper.
Callum looked away, heart hammering, fists clenching inside his jacket pockets. “Wrote it when I should’ve been setting ward anchors. That first week you were here. Couldn’t get your voice out of my head.”
She whispered, “Even then?”
“I didn’t want to,” he said, voice gruff. “Did everything I could not to.”
She looked up, tears shining in her eyes. “But you did.”
“I saw you,” he said again, softer this time. “And I haven’t stopped.”
She stepped forward. Not fast, not dramatic—just one step. One moment where her body answered the same pull his had been denying for weeks.
“You kept that poem in your pocket?”
He managed a half-smile. “Didn’t know what else to do with it.”
Her hand rose, fingers brushing his cheek. Not forceful. Not needy. Just there, warm and real and unshaking.
“You’re still scared,” she said.
“Terrified,” he admitted.
“But you’re here.”
“I’m here.”
And then she kissed him.
It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t cautious. It was fire and forgiveness. Salt and sweetness. It was the sound of every wall crashing in, every “no” he’d told himself since Tessa’s last breath finally giving way to something that felt likelivingagain.
He responded with everything he had. His hand went to her waist, the other to her back, pulling her flush against him as the lake glimmered behind them. Her arms wound around his shoulders, and her lips moved over his like they already knew the shape of him.
When she gasped softly, he let out a low groan and deepened the kiss, pressing her closer. The world narrowed down to her mouth, her warmth, her scent, all of it burning into him.
His lion didn’t pace this time. It purred.
He broke the kiss first, breath heaving like he’d just come through a sprint. “I can’t—if we keep going?—”
She nodded, lips swollen, cheeks flushed. “I know.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “Cora…”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered. “You don’t have to say it. Not yet.”
His heart slammed into his ribs. His lion settled. She wasn’t asking for declarations. She was offering trust.
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “My cabin’s closer.”
She smiled, slow and knowing. “Then lead the way, ranger.”
They walked back along the trail, shoulder to shoulder, moonlight flickering between the trees like it was lighting the path just for them. His hand brushed hers once. Then again. And finally, he laced their fingers together.
He didn’t say what his lion was already shouting in his chest.
But he would.
Soon.
