Page 10 of Arctic Mountain Man
She turned to look at me, something searching in her expression. “Do you ever get lonely?”
The question caught me off guard. “No.”
“I think I’d like it. The quiet, I mean. I’ve always been better on my own anyway. People are... complicated.”
You get it.
The thought was so clear, so certain, it stopped me in my tracks.
“Blake? You okay?”
I looked at her—really looked at her. The way her lips parted slightly when she was concerned, the way she watched me. The sight made me want to close the distance, drag my tongue across that mouth, and swallow every sound she made.
“Yeah,” I said roughly. “I’m okay.”
But I wasn’t. I was falling, and hard, for a woman who’d been in my life for less than a day. A woman who belonged in the city, not on my mountain. A woman who deserved better than a broken man who’d run away from the world.
And I didn’t know how to stop it.
“Come on,” I said, starting up the trail again. “Waterfall’s just ahead.”
But as we walked, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking toward something that would change everything.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sadie
The waterfall was everything Blake had promised and more. Water cascaded down smooth granite rocks into a crystal-clear pool below, creating a fine mist that caught the afternoon sunlight like scattered diamonds. The sound was hypnotic—not the harsh rush I’d expected, but a gentle, constant melody that seemed to quiet every anxious thought in my head.
My body was on high alert because of him. I was feeling things I’d never felt before and I liked it. Every nerve hummed, every brush of air against my skin reminding me that he was near, that he could touch me whenever he decided.
“This is incredible.” I moved closer to the edge of the pool. “How did you find this place?”
“I stumbled across it my first week here.” Blake had stopped right behind me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. The faint brush of his breath at the back of my neck made my skin prickle. “I come here when I need to think.”
I turned to look at him, struck by the almost peaceful expression on his face. This was his sanctuary within a sanctuary, and he’d brought me here. The significance of that wasn’t lost on me.
“Thank you.” I turned slightly toward him. “For sharing this with me.”
Something flickered in his arctic blue eyes. “You’re welcome.”
For a few beats, neither of us spoke. I could feel him there, close enough that the faintest shift would have our bodies touching. His hand flexed at his side like he was fighting the urge to reach for me. My own fingers twitched with the same need, aching to trace the lines of his chest, to test the strength in his arms, to finally learn what his mouth felt like against mine.
We stood there for a moment, just taking in the beauty around us, but I was hyperaware of every inch of space between us. Which wasn’t much. Somehow during the hike, we’d gravitated closer together, our shoulders brushing when the trail narrowed, his hand finding mine when I needed help over a fallen log.
Each touch had sent electricity racing through my system, and now, standing here in this magical place with him, the air felt charged with possibility. The tension between us was its own living thing, thick and unrelenting.
“Can you swim in it?” I asked, nodding toward the pool.
“Yeah. Water’s cold though, no matter what time of year.”
“Have you?”
“A few times.”
I could picture it—Blake’s powerful body cutting through the water, droplets clinging to his skin when he emerged. The image made my stomach flip and heat curl low inside me. I imagined those drops trailing over his chest, catching on the ridges of muscle before sliding lower, disappearing under the waistband of his jeans.
“I bet it’s perfect in the summer.” I stepped closer to get a better look at the pool. But the rocks were slicker than they looked and my foot slipped.
