I mutter something under my breath and go to the back room, heart pounding like I’m not a grown woman with kids and responsibilities. Like I’m still the woman who answered an ad she shouldn’t have and found a man who didn’t let her run.
Twenty minutes later, we’re driving up the mountain with the heater blasting and Wyatt’s hand on my thigh like he owns the right.
He does.
The road is quiet, trees towering, stars starting to bloom above the peaks. Devil’s Peak turns into a different world up here—one that belongs to wind and snow and secrets.
Wyatt parks at the turnoff and kills the engine. The silence is thick and good.
He leans over and kisses me again, slower this time, as if he’s got all night and intends to use it.
I pull back, breathless. “Wyatt.”
His thumb brushes my lower lip. “Yeah.”
“We’re… hiking?” I say, because it feels safer than talking about what’s happening between us.
Wyatt’s grin turns warm. “Short walk.”
He gets out first, comes around to my side, and opens the door like a gentleman who could also snap someone in half if they looked at me wrong. He offers his hand.
I take it.
His grip is steady, warm, familiar. He guides me carefully over the snow-packed ground without making me feel fragile. It’s an art—protecting without smothering.
The hot spring sits in a natural hollow surrounded by rocks and pines, steam rising into the cold night like breath.
I stop at the edge, staring.
Even after all this time, it feels unreal—our private slice of heaven tucked into the mountain like it’s been waiting for us.
Wyatt steps behind me, arms sliding around my waist. His palm settles on my belly again, possessive in the sweetest way.
“Still ours,” he murmurs.
I lean back into him. “Still yours?”
Wyatt’s mouth brushes my ear. “Always mine.”
My skin prickles, heat pooling low.
I turn in his arms and glare at him. “You’re going to make me blush.”
Wyatt’s eyes darken. “Good.”
We undress without rushing, the steam wrapping around us like a curtain. Wyatt helps me step down into the water, his hands steady on my hips.
The warmth hits my body and I exhale so hard it’s almost a moan.
Wyatt’s gaze sharpens. “That good?”
I glare, but my voice betrays me. “Yes.”
He steps in behind me and pulls me back against his chest, water swirling around us. His arms wrap around me, one hand on my belly, the other sliding up my ribs.
I close my eyes for a beat, letting myself sink into him.
Wyatt kisses my shoulder. “You’ve been running all day.”
