Make Me Yours (Top Shelf Romance Book 4)

by Devney Perry

  I smiled up at Cole, then looked into the blue, cloudless sky.

  “Yeah. He would have.”

  31st Birthday: Hike Glacier

  Poppy

  “I’m forgetting something.”

  I was staring at my stuff in the backseat of Cole’s truck, sure that I’d forgotten to pack something important. It was the weekend after the paint fight and Cole and I were driving up to hike in Glacier National Park.

  What am I forgetting? I had my bag of clothes and toiletries with extra panties, pajamas, socks and a T-shirt, just in case. I had my hiking boots, hiking socks and canteen that I’d dragged out of storage. I had my purse with wallet, phone, phone charger and the lip balm and hand cream I used before bed each night.

  Still, I couldn’t shake the niggling feeling that something was missing.

  “Poppy!” My eyes snapped up to Cole in the driver’s seat, his fingers tapping the steering wheel.

  I waved him off. “I’m forgetting something!”

  “Poppy, you’ve been staring at that pile for five minutes. You’re not forgetting anything. We’re only going for one night. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Fine.” I huffed and slammed the back door. Then I jumped into the passenger seat and slammed that door too. Nothing bothered me more than being unprepared for a trip, but since I couldn’t remember what I was missing, I had no choice but to go without.

  With me finally ready to go, Cole wasted no time backing out of the driveway and pointing us down the road.

  It was still early, only six in the morning, but the mid-September morning light was beginning to shine.

  “Wait!” I threw my hands out as Cole slammed on the brakes. “My sunglasses. I forgot my sunglasses.”

  He grumbled and shoved the truck in reverse, speeding backward to my house.

  I dug the keys from my purse and jumped out, rushing inside to grab my sunglasses from the kitchen counter—right where I’d left them so I wouldn’t forget. I smiled as I walked back to the truck, feeling much better about starting the weekend off right.

  Thanks to a last-minute cancelation, Cole and I had scored a room at one of the nicer lodges in the park. We’d be able to make this trip—without sleeping in a tent—and cross this item off Jamie’s list.

  “Okay. I’m ready now.”

  Cole was shaking his head as I got back into the truck. “Are you like this for every trip?”

  I shrugged and buckled my seat belt. “I don’t believe in packing light.”

  “Noted.” He smirked. “Are you sure you’re ready to go? We could take another lap through your house. Maybe box up some more clothes. Pack up a cooler in case we get stranded on the side of the road. We should probably take some extra gas too. Maybe another spare tire.”

  I fought a smile and slid my sunglasses onto my nose. “Are you done teasing me so we can get on the road?”

  He chuckled. “For now.”

  “Good. Then let’s do this.” I smiled, practically bouncing in my seat. I couldn’t wait to do this hike.

  My excitement was gone eight hours later.

  Every step was excruciating. Pain shot through both of my feet as I followed Cole up the trail toward the peak.

  Damn it. Damn it! This was not how I’d envisioned the day going.

  We’d made it to the lodge just after lunch and immediately gotten ready to hike this trail. The sun was shining. The air was pure. I’d never expected to be in this much pain hours later.

  I’d chosen this trail because it was rated as one of the most beautiful. The relatively short hike—only about eight miles round trip—would lead us to a small lake surrounded by high peaks and a couple of glaciers.

  But now, I had no idea if I’d actually make it to the end or be able to cross this item off Jamie’s list.

  I could see the crest in the distance, and according to my pedometer, this was the last stretch before we reached the lake. I only had to make it another hundred yards, but it might as well have been ten miles.

  I was ready to collapse.

  My lungs were burning and my legs were turning to mush. I could have pushed through that kind of pain, but my feet? The agony with every step was going to bring me to my knees.

  Fuck. Fuck! I cursed and winced with every step. All because of these fucking boots.

  My feet had grown since I’d last worn these boots in college. Not by a lot—I hadn’t gone up a size in my regular shoes—but enough that these boots no longer fit.

  My heels were rubbed raw. Blisters were growing on blisters. It had gotten so bad on my right foot that with every step, blood squished between my toes.

  How could I have been so stupid? Why hadn’t I tried these on before we’d left Bozeman? I grew up in Alaska—hiking in Alaska. I’d learned young how important it was to have good hiking boots.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw something. I was close to the end. So fucking close, but all I wanted to do was turn around.

  I took another step and a fresh stab of pain shot through my foot, causing me to falter and my ankle to twist. “Ahh!” I let out a strangled cry as I dropped to my hands and knees. Bits of gravel dug into my palms as I closed my eyes and took a breath.

  I had to keep going. I had to finish this hike.

  I whimpered as I tried to stand, struggling to find my balance on two aching feet. I would have dropped again if not for the two large hands that came under my arms and helped me up.

  “What’s wrong?” Cole’s face searched mine. “Are you hurt? Did you twist your ankle?”

  I looked to my traitorous feet. “No, I’m okay.”

  “Bullshit,” he clipped. “What’s wrong?”

  He was wearing a hat today, an old Montana State baseball cap, but it didn’t hide the worry pinching his green eyes.

  It was his concern for me that broke the thin hold I’d kept on my emotions. Frustrated tears welled and my chin quivered as I looked back at my boots. “My boots are too tight. My feet must have grown. These were my hiking boots from high school and college, and I . . . I didn’t know.”

  “Hey.” Cole tipped up my chin. “It’s okay. We’ll just go back down.”

  “No!” I shook my head frantically. “We’re so close. I need to do this. I can do this.” I tried to take a step past him but his hands clamped on my biceps and didn’t let me pass.

  “Stop,” Cole whispered. “You’ve hiked Glacier. Maybe not to the lake, but you did it. You can mark this off the list, even if we turn back now.”

  “No, I need to do this.” My voice cracked in despair. “Not just for Jamie’s list, but for me. I need to finish this hike.”

  Every agonizing step up this mountain had become so much more than just marking a box on Jamie’s list. This was a chance to prove to myself that I had the strength Cole saw in me. To prove I could overcome any pain.

  That no matter what life threw at me, this was my chance to prove I could handle it all. Blistered feet, shattered heart—I could survive it all and keep marching on.

  “I can do this.” I held my breath, ready for the inevitable pain as I stepped past Cole. He let me go this time but I felt his eyes on my back as I took one step, then another. My hopes soared when the pain didn’t bring me down.

  I’d almost convinced myself I could make it this last stretch when I took another step and my foot slipped again, forcing me back to my hands and knees. “Damn it!” I cried. “I’m so close.”

  Cole’s hand came to my back as he knelt by my side. “Let me help.” Gently, he positioned me so I was sitting on the narrow trail for an overdue break.

  “I just need a minute, then I’ll be okay.” I sniffled and wiped away a fresh batch of tears.

  He sighed, but instead of taking a seat next to me, he knelt by my outstretched feet as he started untying the laces on my boots.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Assessing the damage.” With a tender touch, he tugged off my boots.

  Even though h
e’d taken care, I winced as they pulled free. Just as I’d suspected, my socks were spotted with blood. My heels were the worst, nearly the entire area covered in red, with my toes a close runner-up.

  “Fuck, Poppy.” Cole shook his head. “Those boots are not going back on.”

  “But—”

  He held up a finger, cutting me off. “I want to take these socks off too, but it’s going to hurt.”

  “Okay.” I sucked in a huge breath and held it as Cole’s fingers stretched my socks wide, peeling them away from my raw skin. The cotton stuck in a few places, and as it pulled free, a pained cry escaped my lips. Blood rushed to both feet, causing them to swell immediately.

  My feet were wrecked. There was no way I’d be able hike up any farther and I had no idea how we’d get back down. The soles of my feet were surprisingly unscathed. Maybe I could pull back on my socks and just go down in them. Because at this point, anything was better than the boots.

  I opened my mouth to tell Cole my plan, but he talked first. “Can I see your backpack?”

  “Sure.” I stripped it off my shoulders and handed it over. There wasn’t much in it, just my canteen and a couple of granola bars.

  Cole shoved my boots and my socks into the backpack and then loosened the straps before putting it over his own shoulders.

  “I’m going—”

  —to need those socks. But before I could get the words out, he scooped me off the ground, bouncing me a bit as he situated me in his arms.

  “Cole! What are you doing?”

  “Carrying you.”

  “You can’t carry me.”

  He looked down at me and smiled. “Sure, I can.”

  “I’m too heavy.”

  “You’re light as a feather, besides, it’s not much farther.”

  Not much farther? “It’s miles.” Four point two miles, to be exact.

  “It’s just up this incline.” He took a step in the wrong direction. Instead of turning and taking me back down the trail, he started marching forward, carefully navigating the rocky trail as he carried me toward the peak.

  “Where are you going?” I squirmed, trying to get down but he just gripped me tighter. “Cole, no! You’ll hurt yourself. It’s too steep.”

  He paused and considered my words. “You’re right.” He set me down on my bare feet and unslung the backpack. “Put this on for me, would you?”

  “But—”

  “Now, Poppy. I want to get back before dark.”

  I didn’t argue—I just strapped on the pack. With him carrying me, our descent would be much slower and I didn’t want to delay us getting back on the trail. The last thing I wanted was to be out here at night with the bears.

  He tapped his back and crouched. “Climb on.”

  “Okay.” With a tiny jump, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. He boosted me higher so his arms were cupped underneath my knees.

  “Are you good?” When I hummed an uh-huh, he took a step, again in the wrong direction.

  “Cole, what are you doing? We need to turn back.” I swung an arm behind us, in the direction we were supposed to be going.

  “Hold still, Poppy.” He took another step. “And clamp tight with your legs.”

  “Cole,” I pleaded. “It’s too much. Turn around.”

  He ignored me, moving forward on the trail without so much as a backward glance or a labored breath.

  “Please?” I whispered into his hair.

  “Not a chance. Just hold tight.”

  No amount of pleading or begging would change his mind so I stayed quiet, doing what he’d asked. I clamped my legs tight and did my best to hold still, making it as easy as possible for him to get up the trail.

  Which he did. He carried me up the trail and right to the shore of the icy mountain lake.

  Cole set me down on my bare feet and stepped behind me to open the backpack and dig out my canteen. As the cold from the ground seeped into my aching feet, dulling some of the pain, he took a long drink of water. Then he put the canteen back and stood at my side, staring out to the lake.

  “Look at that.” He pointed to the glaciers cutting their way through the valleys of the high peaks. “Incredible.”

  I was too fixed on his profile to take in the scenery. “You carried me.”

  Cole’s eyes broke away from the view. “I’ll carry you back down too.”

  “But why? Why didn’t you just turn back?”

  He shrugged. “You said you needed to do this. Now you have.”

  This man took my breath away.

  “Cole, I . . .” As much as I wanted to thank him, to say anything, none of the words in my head were enough to convey how much this meant.

  When I hadn’t been strong enough to do something myself—when the pain had been too much—he’d done it for me.

  “It’s okay, Poppy.” He turned back to the view. “Just enjoy it.”

  “All right.” I turned and let my eyes take in everything before us. And as I studied the lake and the glaciers and the mountain, I realized something.

  Maybe I didn’t have to be strong enough to banish the pain away all by myself.

  Maybe being strong meant learning to lean on those who would take some of the pain away.

  Like the man at my side.

  By the time we made it back to the lodge, the sun had begun to set. Cole had carried me all the way down the mountain—he’d endured over four miles with me on his back. When we’d gotten to the easier part of the trail, I’d offered to walk in my socks but he’d refused to set me down no matter how much I had pleaded.

  Finally, my feet hit the ground when we reached a bench outside the lodge.

  “Do you want to go up to the room or would you like to grab dinner first?”

  He ran a hand over his face. “I need a shower, but I’d really like to eat first so I can crash after I get cleaned up. I’m wiped.”

  “Dinner it is. Just let me go grab the flip-flops I left in the truck.”

  “I’ll go get them.”

  “Cole, sit and take a break.” I pointed to the bench. “I can walk across a paved parking lot in my bare feet.”

  He relented, digging his truck keys out of his pocket.

  I took them and hustled toward the parking lot, looking over my shoulder to see him slouched on the bench. He looked more exhausted than I’d ever seen before.

  All because of me.

  I walked faster, my pace matching the speed of my racing thoughts.

  Was I taking too much from Cole? He’d offered his help freely, but was I taking advantage? First, he’d taken on Jamie’s murder case at work. Then the birthday list and everything that came along with it. The truck. The weekend activities. The hike.

  I didn’t want him to resent me by the time we’d finished the list. I didn’t want him to think that all I wanted from him was his help.

  My worries were put on hold as I reached his truck. I slipped on the flip-flops I’d tossed in the backseat just in case, then hurried back so we could get Cole some much-needed calories and a well-deserved beer.

  An hour later, Cole patted his stomach, having just polished off a plate of home fries and an enormous rib eye. “That was good. Not as good as your food, but still. It hit the spot.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled. “Too bad there isn’t a way to serve steak in a jar.”

  He chuckled. “If anyone could figure it out though, my money is on you.”

  “I think I’ll just save the steak recipes for home. I’ll dig them out when I come over to break in your kitchen.”

  His hand covered mine on the bar between us. “I’d like that.”

  “Me too.” I turned over my hand to thread my fingers in his.

  We hadn’t discussed the kiss we’d shared in his kitchen and we hadn’t had another since. I just hoped he knew that the tears that had followed were not because I’d regretted that moment.

  I could never regret that kiss.

  “I hope you�
�”

  “Do you want another beer?” The bartender, a young woman with spiked black hair, interrupted.

  Cole let go of my hand and reached into his pocket for his wallet. “No. Just the check. Thanks.”

  “You got it.” She tapped a cardboard coaster on the bar and walked to the register.

  “Here.” He handed me a stack of twenties. “I’ll be right back.”

  He stood from his stool, leaning down to kiss my forehead, then walked toward the restrooms. His footsteps were slow and heavy. His broad shoulders stretched the white cotton of his T-shirt as he hunched forward. And the way he was rolling his neck, he must be getting one of his headaches.

  “Here you go.” The bartender leaned her arms on the bar after setting down our ticket. “Your husband looks like he had a rough day.”

  “Oh, um,” I fumbled the cash as I handed it over, “he’s not my husband.”

  Her eyes darted to my left hand, zeroing in on my wedding rings. “Oh-kay.” She pushed off the bar and held up her hands. “No judgment here. Just assumed.”

  “No!” My hands flailed as I did my best to explain I wasn’t having an affair. “It’s not like that. I’m . . . I’m not married. My husband passed away and I just haven’t taken off my rings.”

  “Sorry.” Her face softened before she spun around and went to the register to make change.

  Okay, that was awkward. I twirled the rings on my finger. Was it time to take them off? If I really wanted to move on, I couldn’t keep wearing them.

  Before I could work up the courage to pull them off, Cole’s hand landed on my shoulder. “All set?”

  I nodded. “She’s just bringing back the change.”

  The bartender appeared with cash in hand, but Cole just waved her off. “Keep it. Thanks.”

  I hopped off my stool, then followed Cole as we made our way to the front desk to collect the bags we’d dropped off earlier. We took them from the desk clerk, then made our way to the second floor and down a long hallway to our room.

  I tossed my bags on one bed as Cole did the same on the other before sinking into the chair by the balcony door. “Go ahead. You can take the first shower.”