Page 25 of Mountain Man's Valentine
9
Valoria
To think, he was here this whole time.
I’d have never thought it. Heck, I never knew there were any houses up here. I suppose I assumed there were, but it’s not like I could ever see them. Last year, I was too green to really even know what the hell I was doing, let alone take in all of the scenery.
And this year, it was far too gray out to see much farther than a few yards past your own nose.
I exhale, whistling slightly, and pat my belly.
“Cole, this was amazing.”
He reaches across the table to grab the bottle of red wine and tops off my glass, grinning at me.
“I’ll ask you again, just to check. How old are you?”
“Oh, come on Cole. I already told you. I had my twenty-first birthday last month. And I might not be as sophisticated as you, but I know good wine. You mentioned this was from my favorite sommelier, Trader Joe’s, right?”
“I don’t recall ever mentioning where it was from.”
He gives me a cocky smile.
“Where’s it from, then?”
“This one? This one’s from Paris. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”
I take a sip, the subtle sweetness and bitterness intermingling, playing on my tongue.
I feel sharp and alive, but just a bit...not drunk, exactly. Something else. I feel like my head is in the clouds, but it’s not because I’mdrunk. I’m barely even tipsy.
“Oh!” I say, taking another sip of my wine and placing the glass down delicately on the dining room table where we’re sitting. “I brought dessert. Do you know where my coat went?”
“I hung it in the hall closet by the entryway,” Cole replies, touching my hand lighting and pushing away from the table. “But let me get it.”
“No no,” I say, “it’s a surprise. I will berightback.”
I slip out of my chair and pad over to the front entryway, glancing behind my shoulder at Cole as I walk away. When I meet his eyes, my heart swells up and it feels like it is positivelysoaring.
The chocolate. The silly discount chocolate I’d packed up in a baggie for the trip. It’d be the perfect thing to give him right now.
Okay, so it’s not fromFrance. I’ve never even been outside the country. I’ve only been to the East Coast once, for my cousin’s destination wedding at Christmas time in the Hudson Valley where her now-husband grew up on a small farm. It was beautiful, but I never got to visit the City while I was there. The bittersweet part was when he told me it was only a couple of hours away by train.
And that’s the extent of my world travels.
I slip past the front door where - oh god - where I let Cole touch me for the first time, and I can’thelpbut imagine my hands pinned behind my back, so raw, so alive, soelectric, right here just inside his front door. It was like we couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to see me, to touch me. And the way he carried me into his room, and pushed me up against the wall.
I feel myself growing wet at the thought.
Peeking down a narrow hallway, I spot what I believe to be the closet. But then I see another door, down the hall slightly farther. At the end of the hallway is a large window, but it’s fogged over. I take my best guess and turn to the first door, and inside I find both of our coats.
“Bingo.”
I slip a hand into my coat pocket and grab the bag of chocolates.
This was not their intended use.
I never thought I’d end up here.
