They sat in silence for a while, watching as the sun dipped lower toward the western mountains, painting the snow-covered landscape in shades of gold and amber. Christopher wished he could freeze this moment. Just the two of them, surrounded by the beauty of his home, sharing this perfect slice of time.
“It’s so peaceful here,” Sorcha murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes I forget what silence actually sounds like.”
Christopher nodded. “That’s what I love about it. The quiet. You can hear yourself think.”
“What do you think about?” she asked, turning to face him, her eyes curious. “When you’re alone in the silence?”
The question caught him off guard. He looked out over the valley, buying time. What could he tell her? That lately, all he thought about was her? That he’d been imagining a future with her since the moment they’d met?
“Life,” he said finally. “The choices we make. The paths we take.” He paused, gathering his courage. “The people we meet along the way.”
Sorcha was watching him intently now, something unreadable in her expression. “And are you happy with your choices? With the path you’ve taken?”
“Yes,” Christopher answered without hesitation. “Even the wrong turns led me here.”To you,he added silently.
She nodded slowly, looking back out at the view. “I used to be so certain about what I wanted,” she said, her voice soft.“Travel, adventure, new experiences. Always moving forward, never looking back.”
“And now?” Christopher asked, barely breathing.
Sorcha sighed, a small puff of white in the cold air. “Now I’m not so sure.” She pulled his jacket tighter around her shoulders. “This place…it gets under your skin.”
Hope flickered in Christopher’s chest, fragile as a candle flame in the wind. He wanted to fan it, to nurture it into something stronger, but fear held him back. What if he was reading too much into her words? What if he was seeing what he wanted to see?
“We should head back,” he said reluctantly, noting the deepening shadows as the sun sank lower. “It gets dark quickly this time of year.”
Sorcha nodded, rising from the log. As they turned back toward the trail, her foot caught on a hidden root beneath the snow. She stumbled forward with a small cry of surprise.
Christopher moved without thinking, catching her against his chest before she could fall. His arms went around her instinctively, steadying her. For a heartbeat, they stood frozen, bodies pressed together, her face tilted up to his, her lips parted in surprise.
Time seemed to stop. Christopher could feel her heart racing against his chest, could smell the sweet scent of her hair mingled with the icy mountain air. His bear surged forward, urging him to close the distance between them, to claim what was his.
But before he could move, Sorcha pulled back, cheeks flushed. “Sorry,” she murmured, straightening her camera strap. “Clumsy of me.”
“It’s okay,” Christopher said, his voice rougher than he intended. “The trail can be treacherous.”
They walked back in silence, the moment—whatever it had been—passed. As they neared the truck, the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the mountains, plunging the forest into the blue twilight of early evening.
Christopher opened the passenger door for her, then circled around to the driver’s side. Inside the truck, with the doors closed against the growing cold, the air between them felt charged, intimate.
“Thank you for today,” Sorcha said as he started the engine. “For the pizza, for this hike. For showing me your world.”
My world,Christopher thought. Could it be hers, too? He wanted to ask her to stay, to tell her how he felt, to explain about mates and the bond they shared. But the memory of her words made him stall.
She had a dream job dangling in front of her, a life on the road she’d built for herself piece by piece. Who was he to ask her to trade that in for one small town and one stubborn bear?
But his resolve was slipping with each moment he spent with her.
And one day soon it would break.
Chapter Fourteen – Sorcha
Sorcha couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this alive.
As Christopher’s truck wound its way back toward Bear Creek Cabins, she nestled deeper into his jacket, the wool collar brushing against her cheek. His scent enveloped her—pine and wood smoke, with something distinctly male underneath that made her heart race. She pretended to watch the snowy landscape passing outside the window, but her attention kept drifting to his profile, the strong line of his jaw, the way his hands rested easily and confidently on the steering wheel.
“Cold?” he asked, catching her adjusting the jacket.
“No, I’m good,” she said, then felt heat rise to her cheeks at her choice of words. “I mean, I’m warm enough.”
