In fact, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. I forgot what it was like to live alongside another person, to have someone atyour side when you wake up. To pour two cups of coffee and to be constantly surprised. To laugh out loud and have someone ask,what’s funny?
And out in the woods, I realized for the first time since she landed in a heap on my porch,justhow much she matters to me. More than she should.
Back when my sister first met her husband, she was trying to explain their connection to me, telling me that there are some people in life that you justclickwith, whether that’s romantic or platonic. I couldn’t understand why she would already be thinking about marrying a guy she’d just started dating — though the actual proposal came a full year later — and she said it was something you couldn’t really understand until it happened to you.
It’s been creeping up on me since the first time I saw her, that it might be happening to me. And the sight of her near that cub — the realization that I could lose her, that she could get hurt, and that I might not be able to protect her — it tugged at something inside me just a little too hard.
“Rowan?” she whispers now, and I realize I’m holding her in my arms, just a breath away from my lips, staring into her eyes like I might be able to find the answer there.
And the look on her face isn’t like she’s pissed that I’m touching her, or that she wants me to let go. It’s like she wants me to kiss her, almost as bad as I want to taste her on my tongue.
“Sorry,” I say gruffly, releasing her and taking several steps back. I clear my throat, run my hand over the back of my neck, and nearly trip over Cheese, who must be able to smell the bear or sense the tension in the air between Lola and me.
I can’t look at her, or I’m going to walk back over there and finish what I started.
“Sorry,” I repeat, because I don’t know what else to say. “I just… need some air.”
And with that, I turn and walk away from the moment, knowing I might not be able to ever get it back.
CHAPTER 13
LOLA
The moment Rowan disappears into his bedroom, the door closed behind him with a resoundingclick, I bring my hand to my lips, staring after him and breathing hard.
Around me, the cabin is deathly quiet. I can’t even hear the trees and leaves rustling outside. The only sounds are my own breath, the rapid pounding of my heart, and the blood roaring in my ears.
What isupwith him?
Everything leading up to the moment he snapped out of it and walked away made it seem like he was going to kiss me.
Hewasgoing to kiss me. I know he was. A man doesn’t look at you like that and not kiss you. Or at least, not want to.
Andfuck, did I want to be kissed by him. The rough way he planted his hand at the base of my back and pulled me into him, the promise of the scrape of his beard against my chin? His breath, hot, fanning over my cheeks, and the way he stared at me like he wanted to eat me whole — Maisie has never read something like that in her romance novels. Nobody on the planethas ever wanted to kiss someone as bad as I wanted to kiss Rowan just now.
Then, before I could do that — just surge up and sayfuck itand kiss him because he wasn’t kissing me — he’d dropped me like I burned him and turned, stalking quickly down the hall and disappearing.
So, if he wanted to, why didn’t he? Should I have verbally consented to it? How could he not tell that I wanted it, too? I mean, I’m still standing here, basically putty, trying to put the pieces of myself back together. His absence pulses through the room like a physical object.
He was so close I could see the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. Close enough that I could smell the forest clinging to his jacket, could trace the exact lines around the corners of his mouth.
He was close enough that I could see the gold flecks in his hazel eyes.
All at once, the truth flies toward me like a dolly zoom. In and out, the room getting bigger while I shrink down.
Rowan.
Henry Rowan Travis.
I gasp, fully clapping my hand over my mouth, eyes darting to the end of the hall, leading to his room. Did he hear me? Can he sense that I’m realizing the truth?
How he knew exactly how to take my drone apart. That technological ability that didn’t quite make sense, not with the beard and the wholelumberjackthing he has going on.
Because he hasn’t always been a mountain man. In fact, he’s not even from Washington, or Seattle. Holy shit. Holyshit.
My journalistic instincts were spot on. From the moment I saw that fence out there, I knew there was something going on here.
Henry Rowan Travis, billionaire tech wizard. He had ahugefalling out with the co-founder of his company — and I think something with his fiancée? — before dropping off the face of the earth. It was a massive story, everyone postulating about where he might be. Saying maybe he died, maybe he overdosed, maybe his partner — what the hell was his name? Evan? Eric? — killed him.
