Page 10 of The Mountain Man's Curvy Christmas Treat
"You don't know what you're asking," I tell her quietly.
"I'm asking you to trust me. I'm asking you to believe that you deserve to be loved." Her eyes are bright with unshed tears, but her voice is steady. "I'm asking you to come home with me."
Home. I haven't had a home in three years. Haven't had a family or friends or anyone who gave a damn whether I lived or died.
But looking at Ivy, at her fierce expression and unwavering faith in me, I realize she's offering me all of that and more.
"What if I disappoint you?" I ask.
"What if you don't?"
Cal clears his throat. "For what it's worth, Colt, we could use you down in town. If you ever feel like trying again. Your SAR experience in Alberta. We've had a few situations where your expertise would've been valuable."
The offer surprises me. I've been avoiding Silver Ridge for three years, assuming they wouldn't want a man with my track record anywhere near their emergencies.
"Think about it," Cal continues. "You don't have to decide today. But the offer's there."
They're offering me a way back. Not just Ivy, but the whole community. A chance to use my skills again, to help people instead of hiding from the guilt of those I couldn't save.
"Ivy," I say, voice rough with emotion.
"Yes?"
"If I come with you... if I try this... I need you to know it won't be easy. I have nightmares. Sometimes I think I don't deserve to be saved."
She steps closer, hand over my heart, and I can feel the warmth of her palm through my shirt. "Lucky for you, I'm very good at saving people. Especially stubborn mountain men who think they're beyond redemption."
Her touch, her words, the absolute certainty in her voice—it all combines to break down the last of my walls.
When she pulls back, I see my future reflected in her warm brown eyes. Not just survival, but living. Not just existing, but being part of something bigger. Being loved.
"Okay," I say, and the word feels like jumping off a cliff. "Let's go home."
Her smile could power the entire mountain.
Before anyone can react, I frame her face in my hands and kiss her—right there in front of God, the rescue team, and half of Silver Ridge. It's a claiming kiss, a promise, a declaration that she's mine and I'm hers.
When we break apart, she's breathless and flushed, and there's no mistaking what we mean to each other.
"Well," Cal says dryly, "I guess that settles that."
Colt
One Year Later...
Our cabin looks like Christmas exploded in the best possible way. Ivy has draped garlands over every surface, strung twinkling lights around the windows, and somehow convinced me to let her put up a tree that takes up half the living room. It's decorated with a mix of store-bought ornaments and the soapstone ones I've been carving all year—snowflakes and stars and little reindeer that make her smile every time she looks at them.
A year ago, this place was a monument to my isolation. Now it's a home.
I'm coming in from chopping wood for the fireplace when I find Ivy in the kitchen, putting finishing touches on a batch of Christmas cookies. Snowflakes, just like the ones that brought us together. She's humming Christmas carols under her breath, her dark hair catching the afternoon light, and my chest tightens with the familiar rush of gratitude that hits me at least a dozen times a day.
This beautiful, stubborn woman saved my life. And somehow convinced me I was worth saving.
"Smells good," I murmur, wrapping my arms around her from behind, pulling her flush against me so she can feel exactly what the sight of her does to me.
"The cookies or me?" she asks, leaning back against my chest, her ass pressing against my growing hardness.
"Both." My hands spread across her stomach, and she goes very still in my arms. I nuzzle her neck, breathing in her vanilla scent. "You okay, sweetheart?"
