Page 31 of The Mountain Man's Untamed Bride
"I should shower," I gestured toward the bathroom. "Plants have ways of making you pay tribute in soil form."
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Use all the hot water you want. Solar tank's full."
Such a simple offering, yet in Bodhi's world of careful resource management, it felt significant—like being handed the keys to a Ferrari.
After a blissfully hot shower, I emerged to find Bodhi had started dinner—fresh trout from his promised "river delivery service" and vegetables from his established garden beds. We ate on the newly reinforced porch, watching the sunset paint the mountains in shades of gold and crimson.
As darkness settled, Bodhi built a fire in the stone pit he'd constructed near the cabin. The night air carried the scent of pine and wood smoke, the perfect antidote to the day's lingering heat. Stars emerged overhead, more brilliant than any Atlanta sky could offer.
I settled onto the log bench, wearing just a thin cotton dress against the still-warm evening air. He joined me, passing a mason jar of his homebrewed beer.
"What happens now?" he asked, his profile lit by the dancing flames.
I took a sip, considering. "I should probably figure that out. Go back to Atlanta. Or somewhere." The words felt empty even as I spoke them. "Start over."
"Or stay," he said quietly, not looking at me.
My heart stuttered. "Stay?"
"Here. With me." He poked at the fire with a stick, sending sparks spiraling upward. "If you want."
"Bodhi—"
"I know it's not what you're used to," he continued, words coming faster now. "No fancy restaurants or shopping malls. But with the new satellite system, you'd at least have decent connection to the outside world. A chicken that judges your life choices. But..."
I waited, hardly daring to breathe.
He finally turned to me, firelight reflecting in his eyes. "These past days with you... even with all the chaos and danger... I've felt more alive than I have since before Afghanistan. You brought color back to a world I'd been seeing in grayscale."
"I set your kitchen on fire and broke your coffeemaker," I reminded him, deflecting with humor as emotion threatened to overwhelm me.
"You did," he agreed with a slight smile. "You also stood up to your stalker ex-fiancé, planted tomatoes like you've been farming for years, and made me laugh for the first time in longer than I can remember." His hand found mine, fingers intertwining. "I don't want to go back to silence when you leave."
I stared at our joined hands, marveling at how right they looked together—my manicure-free fingers engulfed by his work-roughened ones.
"So..." I swallowed hard. "About that virginity situation. It's still... situated."
He choked on his beer, coughing as I patted his back with mock innocence.
"Scarlett," he said when he recovered, voice deeper than before. "That's not why I'm asking you to stay."
"I know." I met his gaze directly. "But it's a compelling fringe benefit."
His laugh rumbled through the night air. "You're impossible."
"So I've been told." I set my jar aside, gathering courage from the stars above and the steady presence beside me. "But seriously, Bodhi... I think I'm falling for you too. And it terrifies me because I came here with such a different plan."
"Terrifies me too," he admitted. "I built this place to be alone. Now I can't imagine it without you complaining about the wifi and teaching Colonel bad habits."
I leaned closer, drawn to him like I'd been since I'd first seen him. "So what do we do about it?"
His gaze dropped to my lips. "Whatever you want. No pressure. No expectations."
"What if what I want is you?" I whispered. "All of you?"
His mouth found mine in a kiss that started gentle but quickly blazed into something hungry and desperate. His hands tangled in my hair, cradling my head like I might vanish if he didn't hold on tight enough.
I climbed into his lap, straddling him on the log bench, needing to be closer. His hands slid beneath my dress, finding bare skin at my waist, his touch igniting me despite the night air.
