You were my storm, Lys. Wild curls, green eyes flashing lightning.
I thought I could outlast you. Thought pride was armor.
It wasn’t.
It cracked the first time you laughed in my cabin,
snow beating the windows while firelight painted your skin gold.
I’ve climbed ridges in whiteouts, spliced wire with frozen fingers,
kept lights burning for strangers.
But keeping my heart from you? That was the real impossible.
You’re the ridge I want to stand on at dawn,
the quiet after the wind dies,
the warmth when the fire’s banked low.
I’m not good with pretty words.
But I’m good at staying.
At holding on when everything else lets go.
If you’ll have me, sweetheart,
I’ll be your mountain.
Steady. Yours.
Forever.”
The last word hangs. No one breathes. Tears prick my eyes. That wasn’t simply a poem. It was Creed, my raw, stoic mountain man, laying everything bare. No growl. No claim. Just truth. Gentle. Deep. The type of love that endures, the kind my parents always said was worth every risk. The kind I’ve been running from because it terrifies me how much I want it.
The crew claps softly and then louder. Derek nods like he’s watching gold. Elena’s eyes are watering when she turns to me. “Time for you to decide.” She nods to the stage. “Go ahead, tell everyone your decision.”
I walk to the stage and up the side steps on shaky legs. “Creed,” I announce, keeping it together as much as possible. “I’m afraid my voice will break and I’ll turn into a blabbering idiot if I say too much. So, I’ll keep it brief.” I turn to Creed. “You win. Tomorrow is about you and me.”
His eyes darken with relief. He tips his hat once and disappears behind the curtain.
During the break, while others grab water, he finds me in the secret alcove I found to get away from the cameras.
He doesn’t utter a word. Instead, his calloused hands cup my cheeks. He guides my face up to meet his lips as his thumbs make gentle sweeps across my cheekbones. When our lips finallymeet, there’s nothing hurried about it. He takes his time as I melt, tasting me like I’m the first drop of water he’s had after days in the desert.
I clutch at his shirt, feeling the soft, worn flannel bunch between my fingers. The scratch of his beard against my skin sends delicious shivers down my spine. Something molten and urgent awakens in my core, the familiar current I know all too well. Slowly, he grinds against me, pressing his thick length against my core through layers of fabric. I moan into his mouth as his hands move down my body. His fingers press into my hips before he suddenly drops his hands and cups my ass to lift me, bringing me to his eye level with my back pressed against the wall.
“You’re mine, Lys,” he growls before kissing down my neck and sucking. “Always have been.” The words send me spiraling as the sound of footsteps echo down the hall. We freeze.
“Tomorrow, darlin’. No interruptions. I’m gonna make you come until you forget every other man’s name.” He sets me down, straightens my blouse, and steps back as Elena rounds the corner. “Places, you two! Lyssa, you still have a one-on-one to shoot tonight with Ryan.”
How am I going to get through this show?
Chapter six
I’m sitting at the long pine table in the bachelor lodge, staring at the steam curling off the surface of my coffee instead of looking at anyone. Especially not Ryan. The pilot. The man who had her last night. Alone. For hours. I’m not sure I can handle knowing what they did together.
