Page 33 of Rescue in Misty Mountain

But when I woke to her next to me in bed, I’d panicked. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. And even though I’ve long-since finished my morning chores, I haven’t managed to get myself back to the cabin.

I’m not hiding out. I’m just… thinking.

Thinking about what a fucking idiot I am.

I know we crossed a line we shouldn’t have. She’s just passing through. I’m not good for her. But… hell. Do I want her with every fiber of my being.

I stop at the edge of the clearing, drag a hand through my hair. My whole body hums with this restless, jittery tension. I don’t want to break something. I just want something tohold onto.

Then I hear her.

Boots on gravel. Steady, purposeful.

“I didn’t peg you for a guy who avoids things,” she says.

I turn.

Tessa stands just inside the trees, arms crossed, braid over one shoulder. There’s a flicker of challenge in her stance, but her eyes—those eyes are soft. Curious. Like she’s giving me room to speak or to run.

“I wasn’t,” I say. “I just… needed air.”

She steps forward, slow and easy. “You’ve needed air all day?”

That gets a reluctant smile out of me. “I’m still thinking about last night.”

“The guy at the bar?” She lifts a shoulder. “Don’t worry about him. I’m not.”

“I didn’t like the way he touched you.”

“Neither did I,” she says, voice quieter now. “But I had it under control.”

“I know.”

I glance away. “Just—seeing it. Him. You. It did something to me. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop worrying.”

She takes another step closer. “I didn’t need you to worry about me, Gage. But I was really glad you did.”

I meet her gaze, and everything else fades—the cabin, the woods, the trail behind me.

“You’re strong,” I say. “You don’t need saving.”

Her smile is slow. A little surprised. “Neither do you.”

That hits somewhere deep.

Even though I know it’s asking for more trouble, I slide an arm around her. “I was also thinking about what happened after I decided to play the part of bar bouncer.”

“Oh?” She arches an eyebrow. “I’ve been thinking about that too.”

She slides a hand up my chest, and my heart pounds. “Oh yeah?”

She nods. “And I’ve been thinking about what we might do for a repeat performance.”

Before I can say anything else, my work phone buzzes. With a groan, I pull it out. Margie, from the nearby visitor center.

I answer.

“Gage? Sorry to bug you—someone spotted a limping coyote near the north ridge. Might’ve gotten caught in wire. A couple hikers saw it snarl and bolt. It scared them, but they’re worried it’s hurt.”

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