Page 24 of Mountain Man

This was his way of asking me if I felt the same, if I wanted to stay up there, with him, for longer. My heart started to race. God, I did, so much, more than anything in the world. But prolonging this would only prolong the pain. The end.

I had to get back to the real world and stop living in this fantasy one.

“Hank,” I called, and his eyes finally landed on mine. I felt my lower lip tremble, but I made myself say what needed to be said. “Yes, it’s…it’s strong enough.”

He flinched, and I felt it, like someone reaching into my chest and squeezing until I couldn’t breathe.

Finally, he dipped his chin. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

He didn’t say much after that. Neither of us did. What was there to say? I knew once we reached the bottom of this mountain, once he delivered me home, I wouldn’t see him again. I also knew I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t spend one more earth-shattering night with him. If I didn’t tell him, show him, how much he meant to me.

I was still trying to work up the courage to say it, to ask him if he’d give me that, as it grew late. We’d eaten, I’d cleaned up, and it was nearing the time we usually went to bed.

Tonight, things weren’t the same, though. Hank seemed edgy, distracted, and my heart had been racing since I’d decided to tell him I needed to go home.

The air in the cabin felt thick, electric. The tension was so dense my limbs felt weak. He wouldn’t make the first move, though, not tonight, not after I asked to leave.

I turned to him. “Hank.”

He lifted his head and when his eyes locked with mine, the oxygen was knocked from my lungs. “Yeah?” he rumbled, voice thick, pure gravel.

“Tonight’s our last night, and I…I want…”

He stood, resting his closed fists on the tabletop. “What do you want, Birdie?”

“I want for us to—”

The door banged open and a fur-covered monster stomped in.

My hand flew to my chest and I stumbled back. Hank was around the table, catching me around the waist before I could fall, and held me there.

“Jesus Christ, Beau,” Hank gritted out.

Beau?

The monster shoved back a fur hood. “Surprise,” he said, then his eyes slid to me. “Though it turns out the surprise is all mine.” His eyes lifted to Hank. “Who do we have here?”

Beau was almost the spitting image of Hank. Maybe not quite as built. Still big, but not Hank big, though I doubted many were. They were about the same height. Beau’s beard was trimmed, not as long, and his hair was a little shorter.

But the main difference was the smile on his face. I’d never seen Hank smile, not like the one curving Beau’s lips.

And you never will.

“Why are you here?” Hank said instead of answering.

Beau frowned. “You know why I’m here. You were due back three days ago.”

Hank cursed. “Lost track of time.”

“I can see why,” Beau said.

Since Hank wasn’t offering up any information, Beau’s eyes slid to me. “I’m Hank’s brother, Beau.” He slid off his gloves and held out a hand to shake.

“Birdie,” I said, taking it.

“I take it I’m interrupting?” He grinned, but I could tell by the way his eyes slid back to his brother that he was full of questions. He was far more shocked at finding me there with his brother than he was letting on.

“Hank rescued me. I got separated from my group. I was lost and then Hank showed up. I would have frozen to death if it wasn’t for him.”