“Nonsense,” he grunts as he walks us to his backyard and stops in front of an oversized chair that’s all cushioned up. “Shit,” he curses, and I frown.
“What is it?” I ask as he sets me down and smiles at me.
“Be right back!” He winks, kissing the tip of my nose.
He’s back before I know it, with a blanket in his hands. He sits and makes me sit on his lap. We’re all cuddled and bundled up. It’s cozy and surreal.
“This is nice,” I note. He just nods, his eyes on my mouth. We cuddle there as the sun starts to rise and the day awakens. It’s a while until he finally speaks, and when he does, he takes me completely by surprise.
“You need to sell your place.” My first instinct is to laugh, but there is something in the tone of his voice that makes me hesitate.
“You’re crazy,” I mumble. He picks me up like I weigh nothing and makes me straddle his lap so I can look at his face.
He’s serious.
Dead serious. Something about that makes my belly flip and my heart squeeze. But it also has my common sense waving huge red flags.
“I’m crazy about you,” he answers, and I smile gently before cupping his face. His beard is soft and well trimmed.
“You’re sweet, baby,” I whisper, “but where would I live if I sold my place?” I ask, not really sure why I’m indulging in his insanity.
“Here,” he answers immediately, and I worry my lower lip. But not for long when his hand comes up and makes me stop biting it.
“I was standing in the kitchen, looking out here trying to think of a way I could trick you into staying again tonight. The thought of not waking up next to you makes it hard to breathe. Literally. My lungs…” He sounds a little exasperated, and I relax a bit, hoping it will help him do the same.
“You don’t have to trick me into staying again tonight. I love sleeping with you,” I share, but it doesn’t seem to ease whatever is bothering him.
“But what about the day after that? And the day after that? I want your shit here. Mixed in with mine. I want to walk in and have this place look like it’s being lived in, instead of some kind of show room.”
“Big guy, I have a feeling you would hate the mess I come with,” I try to joke, to lighten the heavy mood he seems to be in, but I know it falls on deaf ears when he keeps talking.
“I love you?—"
“Reed—”
“I do. And I know this fast. Fuck, it’s warp speed! But you gotta know something about me, sunshine. I’m not the kind of man who does anything rash. I listen to my gut because time after time, it’s proven itself. Shit, it’s saved my neck more than once when I was in the military. So, when you’re a man my age, staring forty in the eye, and your heart starts to beat for the first time, really starts to beat, you don’t want to go slow.”
“Wow.” He just said that. He just said I made his heartbeat for the first time. My nose starts to sting. I knew he wanted me, but this is on a whole other level. One I didn’t even let myself wish for.
This is on the best level.
He wants me to belong to him, and I want him to belong to me. I should say this, but I let him keep talking, because I have a feeling he doesn’t talk about his emotions all that much.
“Camila, I wanna wake up every morning with you, without having to go from house to house. My place is bigger and renovated. I got my workshop in the back. But if you love your place and your heart is set on staying there, that’s fine. We can build something back there for my work and—" I place my fingers over his lips because I don’t need to hear any more.
I just can’t with this man.
This beautiful slightly grumpy mountain man has stolen my heart a thousand times over, and he has been in my life for less than a season. But I don’t care.
“Can I suggest something that’s not so… rash?” I ask softly but still feel his body go rigid below me. Like he’s bracing for bad news or something. “Breathe, big guy.” I smile. “Can we not sell my place?” His expression turns dark, but instead of it scaring me, I laugh. “Not yet, at least,” I concede.
“Why?”
“Honey, Reed, we’re new. Like, seriously new. This is …what do they call it? A honeymoon phase. I know myself. I’m a mess, and I don’t mean that in a funny way. I’m disorganized but know exactly where things are in the chaos.”
“I don’t care,” he clips, and I relax into him. My hands in his hair I play with the ends of his hair.
“But you might. We don’t know. And honestly… if it doesn’t, I don’t want to be left looking around, wondering where I’m going to… hang my hat, so to speak. I don’t have family I can just crash with. Stella would let me stay with her, but that’s not the point. I just… I want to be smart about this.” His jaw clenches, and my hands move immediately to smooth it out. “Please understand,” I plead with him, and it isn’t until his eyes soften, turning a little warmer, that I breathe again.
