by Erika Kelly
“I mean, we can have sex if you want.” At the top of the stairs, he took her down a long hallway. “But I really just want to give you your Christmas present.”
“My presents are under the tree.”
“Nah, that’s just stuff for you to open.” He opened the door to the attic. “This is your real present.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been up here before. Can you turn on the light? I don’t want to trip in this dress. Why does it smell so good? You’d think an attic would smell musty or stuffy or something. What is that—vanilla? Wait, cookies. It’s like a cookie factory up here.”
He let her steady stream of conversation wash over him, calming his nerves. At the top of the stairs, he stopped her. “You know what I love about you?”
“You mean there’s only one thing? I’d better up my game.”
He chuckled. “I love everything about you, but you know what I love about you right now, in this moment?”
“If I answer, do I get a cookie?”
His laughter shattered all his worries. “I love that, not once, did it occur to you to ask me where I was taking you. You just came with me.”
He’d covered the skylight and windows, waiting for the big reveal, so he literally couldn’t see her at all. He could smell her perfume and the shampoo scent in her hair. He could feel her heat, and the strong clasp of her hand. And he felt so much love it bubbled over.
“That’s because I trust you. I’d follow you anywhere.”
He flipped on the light switch. The A-frame space lit up with countless strings of lights. Some draped the walls, and others hung straight down from the ceiling. The walls were covered in photographs he’d collected from friends and family, chronicling both their lives. The bed in the center had a tall footboard, so they could brace their feet, when they lay on their backs and talked.
“It’s our treehouse.” Her voice was filled with awe. She turned towards him. “You recreated our treehouse.”
“Only higher tech.” He pressed a button and the visors covering the sunlight and windows retracted. The moon shone directly overhead.
She sucked in a breath. “This is magnificent. It’s…Oh, my God.” She found the framed photos and headed to the wall. She gasped when she saw the original plank of wood. Tracing her finger over the quote, she said, “You saved this?”
He nodded, warmed at her reaction.
And then she read it. “When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.” Tears spilling onto her cheeks, she caressed the words. “I can’t believe you did this. It’s the most amazing gift I’ve ever gotten. I love you so much.” She turned to him to find him down on one knee, a ring in his hand. “Are you kidding me? You’re proposing? Yes, of course yes. A thousand times yes.” She rushed over to him, flinging herself into his arms.
She knocked him back on his ass and the ring went flying. Only this time, with her cupping his face and pressing kisses everywhere, he didn’t worry about it. He just basked in all the love and joy pouring out of her.
“I love you so much, Cassian. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, yes, yes.”
He’d never felt fuller, more complete.
He belonged with this woman. And she belonged with him.
Taking in the treehouse he’d recreated, he smiled. Because he’d done it.
He’d built them their palace.
Also by Erika Kelly
Thank you for reading IT WAS ALWAYS YOU! It’s the fifth book in the Calamity Fall series:
KEEP ON LOVING YOU
WE BELONG TOGETHER
THE VERY THOUGHT OF YOU
JUST THE WAY YOU ARE
IT WAS ALWAYS YOU
WHOLE LOTTA LOVE
Have you read the Rock Star Romance series? Come meet the sexy rockers of Blue Fire:
YOU REALLY GOT ME
I WANT YOU TO WANT ME
TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT
MORE THAN A FEELING
And Erika Kelly’s super passionate Wild Love series:
MINE FOR NOW
MINE FOR THE WEEK
MINE FOREVER
Look for the next Calamity novel—WHOLE LOTTA LOVE—coming in June 2020! Sign up for my newsletter to find out when it goes up for preorder and come hang out with me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Goodreads, and Pinterest or in my private reader group.
Would you like to find out how Dean found the love of his life in a combat boot-wearing princess? Get PLANES, TRAINS, AND HEAD OVER HEELS!
Keep on Loving You
Here’s the first chapter from KEEP ON LOVING YOU, the first book the Calamity Falls series.
His boots crunched on fresh, wind-blown snow, his toes were numb, and if Fin Bowie wasn’t tied by a rope to two people, he’d jump on his board and ride the spine down to base camp.
He had to get home. He’d already missed the bachelor party; he damn well wouldn’t miss the wedding.
June snow squalls were uncommon enough, but lasting a week? The moment they’d passed, he’d called for the helicopter, so with any luck it’d be waiting for them. He’d head straight to the Innsbruck airport and catch the last flight out.
“One mile to freedom, boys.” Traci Allen, the two-time Women’s World Games snowboarding champion who led the way down the mountain, shot Fin a glance over her shoulder. “Loved coming with you but, man, do I want to get home.”
“I want meat,” one of the guys said. “It’s all I can think about. A thick, juicy burger. Salty fries. And a frosty vanilla milkshake.”
“Vanilla?” someone else said. “Who orders vanilla?”
The storms had prevented them from receiving their last supply drop, so they’d run out of everything. Fin had downed his last protein bar two days ago. Yeah, he was hungry. He’d grab whatever they had at the airport. But he didn’t have food on his mind.
The chain of flights—Innsbruck to Paris, Paris to Denver, and then Denver to Calamity, Wyoming—would take thirty-three hours total. If nothing else went wrong, he’d make the rehearsal dinner.
Which meant, for the first time in six years, he’d be in the same room with her.
Callie.
Adrenaline burst at the base of his neck. Knowing her, she’d only be in town for the weekend, so if he missed the wedding he’d miss his chance to talk to her. And he had to talk to her. He couldn’t stand this silence between them.
Couldn’t stand what he’d done.
His one fatal decision…Jesus, it crawled all over his skin like fire ants, stinging and making him burn. A constant reminder that he couldn’t take it back…and it drove him out of his mind.
He had to make it right, once and for all.
At least this time she couldn’t avoid him. Not at her brother’s wedding. His pulse spiked at the thought of seeing her again. She’d probably get in his face, all snarky and sarcastic. Yeah, that’s Callie. Call him out on his shit. Like she should’ve done at the time.
Because, yeah, he’d screwed up—colossally—and that was on him, but she’d never let him apologize, and that was on her.
An image sprang to mind of Callie laughing, her whole body shaking with it. Her platinum hair wild and tousled after a trail ride. Just like Callie herself. Wild, fierce. Uninhibited.
His body vibrated with anticipation.
“I don’t know how you can think about anything other than a hot shower.” Bram, his videographer, was the oldest and most civilized of all of them. “I stink so bad my eyes are watering.”
“I want to get home.” Fin hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
“Aw.” Traci tipped her chin to the treeline. “Looks like you’ll make it.”
Thank Christ. He’d get to be Ryder’s best man…
And be with Callie. Energy blasted through him. He wanted to see her more than he wanted a shower, a burger…or anything. They’d always had this combustible energy. Irrepressible, smoking-hot chemistry. Even after so many years together, it had never gotten old, never faded.
But what would h
e see when he looked into her eyes now? Hate he could handle—that meant she still felt something—but indifference?
The idea that she’d be over him—that she’d feel nothing—made him sick to his stomach.
No. Not possible. Determination came roaring in. She was pissed at him—he understood that—but if he could just have time alone with her, he could fix it.
“Too bad we didn’t get to finish filming.” Traci glanced back at him. “I always wanted to be in one of your movies.”
“I’ve got enough footage to put something together,” Bram said.
“Well, you definitely got enough to get Fin that cover,” Traci said. “Dude, you were on fire.”
Fin’s fingers flexed in his gloves. He probably shouldn’t have told them about it—not until it was confirmed—but his manager had texted him at the airport just before they’d taken off. He had a shot at National Adventurer’s “Athlete of the Year.” Hard to keep a nomination like that to himself.
“I’ve been gone a month,” Bram said. “So I’ve got some catching up to do before I put the movie together, but I’ll get some footage up on your website pretty quick.”
Fin didn’t give a damn about any of the website crap, but as a backcountry snowboarder, he made his living off endorsements, and the more popular his films, the more money he made. Hosting a site was a small price to pay if it meant he could make his living freeriding.
“And I can’t believe you fixed my drop-in.” Traci reached behind her for a fist bump, and Fin tapped her glove. “I’ve been with my coach seven years, and he couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong. How did you see that I was taking it too fast?”
“That’s what he does,” one of the guys said.
“See?” Traci said. “You deserve that cover. I’m gonna frame it and send it to you with a case of Cristal.”
“Ha.” Bram chuckled. “Don’t waste champagne on Mr. My-Body-Is-My-Temple.”
Everyone liked to make fun of the Bowies for their clean living, but how did they think his three older brothers had crammed the shelves of their dad’s trophy room? The oldest, Will, had won the Men’s World Freestyle Games an unprecedented seven times.
And if you get the cover, you’ll finally have something in there.
Fin glanced ahead, relieved to see the spine had given way to broader mountain. He breathed easier knowing they were that much closer to a safe return.
“When do they decide?” Bram asked.
“The issue comes out in November,” another guy said.
“And it’s only June,” Traci said. “So the timing for this trip’s perfect. Just get that footage up.”
He didn’t do these trips to make the cover of a magazine, but he still wanted it. He wanted to see his brothers’ faces when he dropped the magazine in their laps. Winning “Athlete of the Year” would impress the hell out of them.
“Hey, so when’re we going out again?” his friend asked.
A lot went into planning a trip. Not only did Fin have to deal with everyone’s schedules, but he had to organize insurance and supplies and work with foreign governments. Given his requirement that all his teammates be certified in avalanche rescue and wilderness first responder classes, Fin tended to travel with the same crew. It just made it easier. Although, of course, this time Traci had been an exception.
“I’m hanging out with my godson while Ryder’s on his honeymoon,” Fin said. “But I’ll start planning right after that.” He kept a wish list of remote mountains no one had ever visited.
“Don’t even talk about it,” Traci said. “There’s no way I can go back out with you. It was hard enough getting my coach to let me go on this trip. He’ll never let me go a second time.” She grumbled. “Oh, my God, you guys, I want off this mountain so bad. You can have your burgers and showers. All I want’s a pedicure. My feet are freaking gnarly.”
No matter how broken-in the boots, the steep descent on a mountain summit meant bloody, numb toes.
“Swear to God, that’s the first—” Traci’s voice cut off with a grunt. One moment the sun glanced off her blonde, shiny hair, and the next she was gone.
Fin’s harness jerked hard. Shit. “Trace?” Heart pounding, he dropped to the ground, rolled onto his belly, and jammed his axe into the crusty snow. The third guy on his rope team mimicked his actions, and they both kicked the tips of their boots into the snow until they got a solid grip. “Traci?” Still no answer. Dammit.
Once secured, he pulled out his axe and jabbed it into a new spot, digging deep until it hit harder packed snow. He twisted until it could hold several hundred pounds of weight.
The other three-man team had already leapt into action. Bram dropped his pack and pulled out his satellite phone.
“Traci,” one of the guys called. “Talk to me.”
The world went silent as Fin waited for her response. When it didn’t immediately come, Fin called, “You see her?” No matter how deep the crevasse she’d fallen in, the rope would ensure she didn’t drop more than fifteen feet. He just hoped she didn’t crack her head on the ice or break her back in the fall.
“I see her. She’s wedged in pretty tight. Gonna need a Z-pulley.”
“On it.” Boots crunched in the snow as the other two guys on the team got to work.
“Let me see if I can get her.” On his knees, Bram reached into the narrow drop.
A moment later, Traci let out a terrible cry of anguish.
Fuck, she’s hurt.
“Okay, okay.” Bram turned to them with a concerned expression.
“My leg.” Traci’s voice sounded strained.
Fin had to get to her—now—but he couldn’t move until they’d set up the anchor. “Come on, man.”
“Hang on, Trace,” someone said. “We’re on it.”
“Can’t…breathe,” she said.
Fin shot a look to the guys setting up the pulley. Ready? One of them gave a curt nod.
The moment Fin transferred his rope to the anchor, he jumped to his feet. Dumping his backpack, he peered over the edge of the narrow crevasse to see her suspended between the icy walls. Pure blackness beneath her let him know the hole ran deep.
“I got you, okay?” He kept his voice calm, but blood roared in his ears. “Give me two minutes.” He dropped to his knees beside his pack.
“Fin,” Traci called.
It sucked to hear the fear in her voice. “I’m right here.” He needed to keep her calm, so he went with distraction. “Which leg, Trace?”
“Um...” The word game out breathy, laced in pain. “Right?”
“What do you think you did to it?” He pulled rope from his backpack and tossed it to one of his teammates. Together, they set up an anchor.
“Hurts. So bad.”
“Here I come.” With the rope tied to his harness, Fin dropped into the crevasse, kicking his crampons into the ice to get a foothold. “Right here.”
She let out a ragged breath. “My knee.”
“Bram already called the heli. It’s on its way. We’ll get you all fixed up, promise.” Knees bent, weight carried on his thighs, Fin got close enough to make a quick assessment. Tipping his head back, he called, “Gotta cut the pack off her. Toss me a rope.” With his teeth he tugged off his glove and shoved it under the harness. Touching her chin, he made it seem like he was giving her comfort, but his thumb flicked over her neck until he found her pulse. Thready.
Dammit. Pulling his knife from his pocket, his painfully cold and stiff fingers unsheathed it, and he sliced through the straps of her pack. Then, thighs burning, he tied the rope to the loop and yanked on it. “Go.”
Immediately, he felt the tension in the line, but the jerk caused a sharp exhalation from Traci.
“Stop.” The rope slackened right away. Jamming his hand back into the glove, he pulled his axe out of the loop on his boarding pants and started chipping away at the ice. Damn, her lips were starting to turn blue. “What’re the six rules of crevasse rescue?”
“The what?”
“Six rules.”
“There aren’t six rules, you asshole.”
He glanced up to see a smile had eased Bram’s tension.
But then Traci groaned. “Fin.”
She was tough, so hearing that shuddery breath unnerved him. “Two more seconds.” The next chop sent a sheet of ice plummeting. He tugged on the rope, and the guys lifted the backpack out. He had his arms around her the moment she was freed. With his mouth at her ear, he said, “Breathe for me. Nice big breath, okay?”
With a nod, she complied.
“I got you. You’re okay.”
She nodded. “My knee.”
He heard the worry in her voice. Damage to her knee could kill her competition season. “Let’s get you out of here.” Dragging her up the fifteen feet of ice wall might do more damage. Better carry her. “All right, Trace, climb on. Gonna give you a piggy-back ride.”
He pulled his crampon out of the far wall and kicked until he got a grip alongside his other boot. Then he turned so he had his back to her. Her arms started to latch around his neck, and he shook his head. “My waist, okay?” He said it with a smile, hoping to keep her calm, but he couldn’t risk her choking him.
She let out a shaky breath and reached around his waist.
“You with me?” He waited for her, “Yeah,” before giving a nod to the guys above. Tied to the Z-pulley, they made their slow ascent, his body blocking hers from the ice wall.
At the top, one of the guys hauled him over the lip, and someone else got Traci off his back.
Relief flooded him at the sound of the copter heading their way.
“It can’t land at this pitch,” Bram said quietly.
Which meant she’d have to go up by rope. He hoped like hell she hadn’t hurt her back.
The guys quickly packed up their gear. Once the helicopter arrived, a line dropped from the winch, and the guys tied it to Traci’s harness. Fin watched her body dangle, the injured knee slightly bent, as she rose into the air. Two sets of arms reached out of the helicopter, carefully pulling her inside. The ladder dropped down for the five remaining guys to climb aboard.