by Ev Bishop
He was shaking with . . . what? Rage? Contempt? Mia couldn’t tell.
“You’re serious?” he roared. “You went out of your way, consciously chose to walk on the unstable, unknown river because it looked easier? Are you nuts? Do you know how dangerous that was? Do you have any idea how easily you could’ve died?”
Gray’s voice grew louder with each word, each disbelieving question. Mia shrank back, heartsick. Suddenly, he stopped talking and stared into her stricken face.
“Oh no,” he said. “No.” He put his arm around her and pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry for yelling. I didn’t mean to scare you. Just the whole situation, how close you . . . I was terrified.”
“I’m not scared—and I understand,” Mia whispered back. “And I’m sorry. I won’t blunder about without thinking again.” The conversation reminded her of something else that needed to be addressed before they let their hearts go any further.
“There’s another thing we need to talk about,” she said.
Gray looked like he was waiting for a literal axe to fall. “What?”
“I looked up the details about how Celine and Simon . . . were killed.”
Gray inhaled sharply, like she’d punched him.
“And I’m so sorry, Gray. I can’t even imagine how hard that must’ve been, how hard it still must be.”
“Mia, I—”
“Wait, I’m not quite done. I think I get how people acting in reckless or thoughtless ways ignites panic or anger in those who love them. There are so many things we can’t help or avoid, that the ones we can—”
Gray shook his head and smiled a sad smile. “It wasn’t your fault, Mia. People get into trouble outdoors sometimes—and indoors. Every aspect of life has risk. Couch potatoes risk heart attacks. Hikers risk other things. And actually, you were pretty prepared. You need to carry a full set of replacement clothes, though, in the winter especially.”
Mia nodded.
“But also don’t take my fretting too seriously. Everything sets me off, Mia—and nothing does. I’m a lot better, but I’m still predisposed to see danger and potential trouble everywhere. I’ll keep working on it.”
Mia cleared her throat, feeling the pain in his eyes all the way to her heart. “But you do know that I will die sometime, right?”
Gray jerked away, so alarmed that Mia almost checked her chest to make sure her heart hadn’t exploded without her knowing it. “What’s wrong? Do you have some health condition?”
She shook her head. “I’m in perfect health. And I don’t mean right now. I just mean, well, sometime.”
“Well, of course you will. Sometime.”
Mia shot him a look. “Yeah, but are you okay with that? With the risk of being hurt again, I mean? I need to know you won’t get all squirrelly again or inform me out of the blue that we can’t even talk or be friends or—” Her voice cracked with embarrassingly transparent emotion.
“I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m an idiot, and no, I won’t make the same mistake again.” Gray lowered his face back to hers once more. This, their second kiss, started out sweet and slow—but so quickly progressed to a body melting, lust stirring workover that Mia forgot what they were talking about until they broke apart, panting slightly, and Gray whispered raggedly, “I will not be okay with it, by the way. Not even close. But the way I see it, I only have two choices: live life, like really live and love you, get to have you—or squander my life, making pain and loss my only reality by losing you when I don’t have to.”
He kissed her again and Mia wanted to purr and rub her body up and down him. It was actually a bit embarrassing what just being near him did to her, but at least she knew with growing certainty that she’d have no problems in the physical aspects of their relationship—unless you considered never wanting to stop a problem. “But do me a favor,” he whispered into her hair, interrupting her libidinous thoughts.
“Anything.” She winked. “Or almost, anyway.”
He didn’t joke back, and his warm eyes glowed with heat and passion. “Give me fifty years. Please.”
“Easy fella,” Mia teased. “We just met.” But inside Mia thought, Oh, dear, sweet man, and prayed that she could honor his wish.
Gray feigned another mortally wounded look and she softened. “Fine, I’ll see what I can do.”
He laced his fingers through hers and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Good enough,” he said. “I’ll take it. Now let’s eat some stew and get you back to River’s Sigh.”
“Sit,” Mia grunted in agreement. “No talk. Eat. Go.”
Gray’s beard twitched as he grinned. “I think you need to spend more time around people, Mia. You’re getting a little bushed.”
Chapter 31
Since the close call, Gray and Mia enjoyed the bulk of every day together, though Gray spent his nights and mornings back at his place because of his chickens and Wolf—and even being apart that much was torture for him. The more time he spent with Mia, the more he wanted to spend with her. She made everything special, from watching old movies on Sockeye cabin’s little TV with bowls of buttery popcorn, to continuing their workouts—focusing more on general fitness, less on being able to flee or fend someone off—to cooking meals together or reading quietly side by side in the Adirondack chairs by the fire, not speaking a word. She’d dragged him up town a couple times to go grocery shopping and he was stunned to discover that with her hand in his, even that was fun.
“I’m sorry I’m such a homebody,” she apologized one afternoon after spending hours playing her guitar while he half snoozed, half listened on the couch, content as a cat in the sun. “I hope you don’t find our days boring. We could do something more exciting . . . if you want.”
“You’re apologizing to me for being a homebody?” He laughed. “I’ve never left my house—haven’t wanted to—so much in years.” He took her face in his hands and watched the light play in her lovely eyes for a moment, then kissed her deeply. It still blew him away that he could kiss her. Touch her. Hold her.
“Everything about you,” he said a few minutes later, “about us, is exciting for me. Just perfect, in fact.” And it was.
Today they walked along the river and found themselves on the little bridge that Gray had shored up two days after Mia’s dunk. You’d think after the near brush with disaster in the same waters, they’d want to stay clear—but no, they sat on the edge of the bridge, dangling their feet in the rushing current, splashing and shrieking with laughter like teenagers.
The water was so cold that the odd chunk of ice still floated by occasionally, knocking against their legs. Their calves and shins were strawberry pink, but Gray was warm all the way through.
He’d felt intoxicated the past weeks, perpetually buzzed on the potent cocktail of early spring and the awakening—and welcoming—of long dormant desires. Each germinating hope and new root of possibility for the future added to his happy drunk, and every time he looked at Mia’s flushed with laughter cheeks and shining eyes, he knew she was feeling the same. The sweet air promised new growth and blooms of every kind and they were wild with it, as if the heady saps bringing the trees and shrubs back from the brink of death to verdant life coursed through their veins too.
Gray had his arm over her shoulders and she felt so right pressed against his side that the happiness he felt was almost an ache. “This is all so . . . ” He trailed off. “I don’t know . . . sometimes I think I must be dreaming.”
Mia shifted and pinched his forearm.
“Ow!”
“Not dreaming, I guess.” She giggled.
“That’s not very scientific—and there’s a stiff penalty for people who pinch.” He clenched his arm around her waist, holding her from getting away, then tickled the tender flesh beneath her soft jersey shirt.
“No, no.” Mia squirmed, then laugh-screamed. “No! I hate being tickled. Stop it!”
Gray released her immediately. Shit, he hadn’t been thinking at all.
Mia pulled her shirt down, surprised—then understanding spread across her face. “Oh Gray, no . . . I’m sorry. I was fine.”
“I know some kinds of stuff, like being restrained, might bring up bad memories. I never want to . . . be a trigger.”
Mia nodded. “I don’t think you could be—maybe before but not now. And I want us to be normal, not to have to walk on eggshells. How about you just . . . be yourself and if anything ever bothers me, I’ll say so. Specifically.”
Gray looped his fingers through hers and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. Normal. What did that even look like for people who’d been through the kinds of things he and Mia had experienced? He’d been so caught up in the pleasure of it, he’d almost forgotten loving someone was also a huge responsibility.
Mia was studying him, her eyes pensive. Then she shook her head lightly. “Get out of your head, Gray.”
“What?”
“You’re not dreaming—and we’re not living nightmares anymore either.” She repeated her earlier pinch, a grin curving her gorgeous mouth.
It took him a second to catch up, then he shook his head. They still had serious things to discuss and figure out—and they would. Eventually. For now, he couldn’t resist her or the way she made him feel as silly and fun as she was. “What did I tell you about pinching?”
Her eyes widened and she raised her hands coyly. “I have no idea, I’m sure.”
He grabbed her again and tickled her until she laughed madly—then he pulled her into his lap, so that she straddled his hips, facing him. He slid his hands up her body, cupped the lacy confines of her breasts, then undid the clasp of her bra.
When he rubbed his calloused thumbs across her erect nipples, Mia inhaled sharply—a sound that sent waves of want crashing through him. Her eyes glinted. “Is this another one of your stiff penalties?”
“You have no idea,” he said—which made her laugh like he’d tickled her again.
Chapter 32
Mia woke early on February thirteenth, her thoughts a jumble. For the first time since her misadventure in the river and being rescued—and so happily surprised—by Gray, she hadn’t slept well. And she knew why. Time was advancing too quickly and like it or not, changes were coming. Mia wanted to freeze the days, keep them, hold them exactly as they were. She loved everything exactly as it was, especially with Gray.
She’d given Jo notice for March first, which was good timing for them both. Jo had kindly given Mia a monthly rate over her long stay and Mia didn’t want her to miss out on high season profits. And Mia was excited about the rental she’d found on the south side of Greenridge, a rustic farmhouse sitting on a secluded half acre with lots of trees. She’d have privacy, but still be only five-minutes’ drive from her little studio and shop. All perks aside, however, there was no arguing that it was far from River’s Sigh, which made it even further from Gray.
While they talked freely about every subject that came up, they hadn’t broached how much—or even if—they’d keep seeing each other once Mia had a life and business and commitments in town. Gray had said he was her wolf, but Mia couldn’t help but notice that Wolf did his own thing, which pretty much meant he wandered the four corners of the forest, didn’t spend a lot time in domesticated company, and only visited Gray when the spirit—or his appetite—moved him. Gray had said he loved her—but love meant different things to different people.
They needed to have a serious talk, not just one of their epically lovely ones where all the realities of life fell away—but she had a gig later in the day. The band she’d sang with for Jo and Callum’s Christmas party had an 80s-themed show booked at one of the local pubs and she’d agreed to sing a set with them. Then tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. She didn’t want to spoil what should be a fun romantic day by being neurotic. . . .
By the time Gray walked into Sockeye just after noon, she practically pounced on him. “Are you sure you don’t mind coming?”
He looked slightly baffled as he claimed one of the high stools by the cabin’s breakfast bar. “Coming where?”
“To the pub tonight.”
“Not at all. Happy to, in fact.”
“And I have to go help set up and rehearse later today for a bit. The guys will pick me up.” Like they had every day the past week, she thought, so why was she making it a big deal now?
Gray apparently thought she was being weird too. His brow furrowed. “Hey, come here,” he said. When she didn’t, he reached out and took her hand, then tugged her gently closer until she was standing nestled between his legs. “What’s up?”
She didn’t reply right away, and he traced the curve of her cheek and jaw with a work roughened finger. “Let’s start again,” he said. “Kiss me hello and then we’ll solve whatever’s bugging you.”
If only it was that easy, Mia thought, but she couldn’t help grinning and leaning in obligingly, both reveling in—and trying to curb—the crazy things being this close to Gray always did to her insides. As they kissed, Gray put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer still. She practically moaned as she felt his mutual desire pressing against her stomach. When they broke apart, Gray was rueful. “That’s both better and worse,” he complained.
Mia laughed and started to shift away, but Gray closed his legs, trapping her close, his gaze hot on hers. “I meant it one hundred percent when I said I’m happy to take the physical side of our relationship really slow—but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit another part of me, a huge part, in fact, can’t wait to take things really fast.”
Mia snickered. “A huge part of you, hey? Brag much?”
Gray flushed, which made her giggle even harder—but suddenly she felt super serious and her smile fell from her face. She caressed his beard that was trimmed and groomed again, at least by bushman standards, then rested her palm on the scars that she knew were there, mostly hidden by his full beard.
“I think that’s what’s bothering me.”
“My huge part?” Gray moved his eyebrows up and down comically, but Mia just shook head.
“What are we doing, Gray? I’ll be moving into my own place soon, opening the store and working full-time, at least until I hire someone to handle the retail side of things, but—” Her voiced died when a morose, questioning look dimmed the glow in Gray’s warm eyes.
“What?” she asked, alarmed. “What did I say?”
“I thought we knew what we’re doing. I thought you understood that I’m yours—and I thought you wanted to be mine.”
“Well, yeah, we said that and I do . . . but I need to know what that means to you. The words sound simple, but they’re not. You’re mine. What does that mean? That you’ll visit me once a week? Or that we’ll be part of each other’s everyday life? That we’ll build a home of some kind together, or—”
Gray exhaled like he’d been holding a big breath. “Oh, okay, that’s better.”
“What is?”
“I thought you were backing out, trying to break it to me gently that you don’t want me the way I want you—”
“No, I think maybe I want you too much, like more than you want me. I don’t want to see you once or twice in a blue moon and know you’re lonely and squatting on some mountain the rest of the time.”
Gray put his finger over her mouth. “One. I’m not squatting exactly. I own a thousand acres of backcountry. I didn’t want to do all the work and shell out all the money to get myself settled off the grid, only to have some government official decide they wanted to clear cut it. This way I can never be booted off and if I ever leave it, it’ll be like a small nature sanctuary.”
Mia’s breath hitched at his “if I ever leave it” comment. Gray’s eyes softened with a smile, but the rest of his expression was somber. “Two. I’ve been trying not to frighten you off with my ‘freakish intensity,’ as I’ve heard some people call it. I purposely avoided too much talk of the future and focused on enjoying—immensely enjoying—the here and now.”
Mia’s breathing came easier
. “I’ve been immensely enjoying it too.”
“You don’t know how happy that makes me.” Gray took her hand and his thumb rubbed a circle on her wrist. “Three. I was going to wait until tomorrow to give you the heads up, but since it’s almost time for you to rehearse, I’ll tell you now. Check the Secret Keeper when you have a minute. It may or may not hold a valentine. Then, if you still have any worries at all about my feelings, let me know.”
“What? But I won’t be able to go until tomorrow. You can’t seriously keep me in that kind of suspense!” Mia smacked him lightly with her free hand. He caught that wrist too and bit it gently. Then, growling like a maniac, he proceeded to kiss along the tender part of her inner arm. The sensation—even of this silly, jokey action—was alarmingly arousing and almost made her lose her train of thought. Almost. “Seriously, Gray, you have to tell me.”
He lifted his mouth from her skin just long enough to mimic her teasingly, “Seriously, Mia, no I don’t.”
“It’s not fair to torture me like this!”
Gray laughed wolfishly. “I could say the same thing about you. Besides you don’t really want to ruin the surprise, do you?”
“I guess not,” Mia grumbled, but couldn’t help smiling at Gray’s smug look. “Do you want to come to rehearsal with me?”
“No, sorry . . . I’ve got a bunch of work that needs done and I don’t want you to feel like I’m here waiting for you. Have fun and I’ll see you tonight. I’ll carpool in with Jo and Callum.”
“Argh,” Mia exclaimed. “I can’t believe you told me there’s something in the tree when I can’t go get it right away.”
Gray grinned. “I confess I might’ve hoped you’d feel a bit of suspense, yes.”
*
Mia had been wildly enjoying the set. Good, and lame, music originated in every decade, but there was something about 80s tunes she found extra full of life and change, though maybe that was her age showing. As an extra bonus, with no shortage of melodrama, they made for fun performing. The crowd danced like crazy and there was barely swaying room on the floor when she and the band crooned yet another famous hair metal love ballad.