Page 18 of Snowed-in With The Mountain Man
"Out like a light." I join her on the makeshift nest. "She barely made it through three pages."
"All that airplane flying wore her out." She shifts closer, fitting herself against my side as naturally as if we've spent years perfecting the position. "Who called?"
"My brother Jax. Checking in on us during the storm."
She tilts her head. "I've never met your brothers. They were still in a different foster home when we met. You've told me about them, but..."
"They're eager to meet you." I wrap my arm around her shoulders. "Jax has heard me talk about you for years."
"Talk about me?" Her eyebrow raises. "What exactly have you been saying?"
Heat creeps up my neck. "Just that you were my best friend growing up. That we lost touch when you moved away."
"Is that all?" Her fingers trace patterns on my thigh, innocent touches that send fire through my veins.
"Not even close." I capture her hand, bringing it to my lips. "They know you were always special to me. That no one else ever measured up."
Her expression softens. "Ridge..."
"It's true." I meet her eyes directly, needing her to understand. "I've had relationships since you left. A few that even lasted months. But they all ended the same way."
"How?"
"With them realizing they were competing with a ghost." I brush a strand of hair from her face. "With me comparing every woman to the one who got away."
Her eyes shimmer in the firelight. "I'm sorry I left the way I did. That I stayed away so long."
"Don't be." I press a kiss to her temple. "You needed to find your own path. I understand that now."
"And that path led me right back to you." She shifts, rising onto her knees to face me fully. "With a bonus daughter you never signed up for."
"Chellie is amazing." I reach for her waist, drawing her closer until she's straddling my lap. "Smart, funny, brave like her mother."
"She adores you." Stella's hands frame my face, thumbs tracing my cheekbones. "It usually takes her months to warm up to people, but with you..."
"Special connection," I murmur, distracted by her weight settled against me, the scent of her skin filling my senses. "Like mother, like daughter."
She rocks slightly against me, a deliberate movement that sends blood rushing south. "Is that right?"
"Stella." Her name emerges as both warning and invitation. "Chellie could wake up."
"She won't." Her confidence matches the wicked gleam in her eyes. "Not for hours. She sleeps like the dead after bath time."
To prove her point, she grinds down again, more purposefully this time. I groan, hands tightening on her hips.
"You're playing with fire," I warn, already hardening beneath her.
She smiles, slow and sure. "Maybe I want to get burned."
The last of my restraint snaps. I capture her mouth in a fierce kiss, weeks of longing poured into a single connection. She responds with equal hunger, fingers tangling in my hair, body pressing closer as if trying to eliminate any space between us.
Outside, the blizzard rages on, wind howling like a living thing around the eaves. Inside, we create our own storm, a tempest of need and discovery. Clothes fall away, replaced by firelight dancing across bare skin. Words give way to sighs, to gasps, to quiet moans as we learn each other again.
And in the aftermath, holding Stella's sleeping form against my chest, watching firelight play across her features, I send a silent prayer of thanks to whatever twist of fate brought her back to me. Back home. Where she belongs.
Where she's always belonged.
CHAPTER EIGHT
