Page 26 of Mountain Man's Valentine
I didn’t even know therewasa “here.”
I close the door softly and hear Cole coming toward me. He isn’t exactly subtle in that regard - he isn’t loud or lumbering or anything, it’s just that he is apresence- he is seems so confident and sure. He is focused and sure of himself. I don’t think I’ll ever see fear in his eyes again - not now that I’m with him.
I am surprised at my own thought, and I feel my lungs fill with refreshing, warm air.
I’mwithhim?
He said I could stay here. He said he’d give me anything I wanted.
But could I really bewiththis man?
I glance out one of the large windows near the front door. The snow has escalated into what looks like a full-blown blizzard.
Certainly, I am with him for the foreseeable future.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
Cole glowers at me, all sexy and powerful man, and puts his arms around my waist from behind. That’s the only thing I want him to do with his hands. I just want him to pull me close to him andkeepme there, keep me steady and even, his breath setting the tempo for mine.
Well, that’s not theonlything I want him to do with his hands.
“Absolutely,” I say, “everything is good.”
“I saw you looking out the window. It’s bad out there. Do you need to make any calls? Tell anyone where you are? Because baby,” he growls into my ear, pulling me back into him farther,pinningme to his body, “now that you’re here, I amnotletting you go. You understand that? I am going to make you mywoman.”
My body heats at his touch, his words.
My heart pounds.
And he can feel it.
“Do you like that, baby?”
“Yes.”
“You like when Itellyou who you belong to?”
“Yes.”
I want to be his.
Oh, how I want to.
He’s been alone for so long. But that’s not why I want to be his. I want to be his becauseI’vebeen alone so long, too. It’s not a coincidence that I wasaloneon the most romantic day of the year. It’s not a coincidence that I had nohometo go to for my birthday, no family to visit on Christmas.
My mom raised me. I never knew my dad. My mom passed away during my first year at college.
And there’s no reason to hash out the details in my mind, at least that’s what I tell myself.
Because I’ve done it already, and it changes nothing.
Maybe part of me thinks making it real in my head, over and over, will make itlessreal.
It’ll make it into some big, stupid prank the universe pulled on me.
Because that’s what it is, isn’t it?
A cruel, stupid prank.
