Page 127 of Cautious Love

“Morning,” he rasps.

“Morning,” I whisper.

Then he disappears under the sheets.

“What are you doing? We need to get up,” I say to the sheet covered head.

His hand squeezes my thigh, and he says, “Ten more minutes.”

Heat pools in my stomach with his touch, and I know it’s going to be hard to get out of this bed for anything.

“Ledger, come on,” I mumble.

“Oh,” I gasp.

He pops his head up. “Twenty more minutes?”

I nod rapidly. “Yeah, twenty more minutes.”

He grins mischievously and disappears under the sheets.

We’re in the truck for about twenty minutes, as we get closer to the mountains until he turns onto a long gravel road. A lot of country roads out here are gravel so I don’t think anything of it.

The road inclines, and I look out over the mountainous scenery. Paxton is beautiful, always has been, and looking down at the town in the valley makes me love it even more.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me where we’re going, and I’m surprised you haven’t,” Ledger says.

I shrug. “I don’t mind fun surprises.”

He chuckles dryly.

Ledger slows the truck as he rounds a switchback, then slowly climbs higher, and I’m glad we left Dozer at home for a couple of hours because I’d be afraid of him getting hurt.

A cabin comes into view and I gasp. It’s beautiful and definitely one of those cabins people rent out to tourists. During the summer months we get a huge influx of travelers. They’re here to hike, and stay in the mountains, and visit the national parks near us. In the winter the winter sport fanatics come out for skiing and snowboarding. It’s partially what helps Paxton thrive.

The large cabin is in the classic log cabin style and surrounding the front door is an entire wall of windows overlooking the mountains. Surrounding the house is a deck with two chairs and a propane fire pit between them.

Ledger parks the truck. “What do you think?” he asks.

“It’s beautiful. Is it your family’s?”

“My cousin Dallas built it. He lives in Texas, but he likes to come up here to decompress,” he says.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, that side of my family is a little different,” he says.

I frown. “Why do you say that?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “They’re ranchers like us, but the King family are landmen and have been for a very long time.”

I stare at Ledger for a second. “Wait … are you saying your cousin is Dallas King?TheDallas King?”

Ledger nods and reaches for the door handle. “Yeah, he’s a country singer.”

“You’re joking.”

His brows squish together as if it’s not already obvious. “Why would I joke?” he asks.