Page 14 of Wild Peak

Ankle throbbing, I change direction.

And I’m probably not supposed to hobble around on a sprain like this, should probably keep it lifted and iced or whatever, but when I hear that peep of Hunter on his deck, suddenly I desperately need to lay eyes on him again.

To say how sorry I am for emotionally unloading on him like that.

To thank him for everything he’s done for me today.

To assure him that it’s fine, totally fine, that he doesn’t feel the same way about me—even if that last part is a little white lie. Even if I’ll spend the rest of my days yearning for this man and his cozy cabin.

The shower has cleared my thoughts, got my head on straight again, and I’m ready to make nice. But when I poke my head out of the door and find Hunter on his deck, he spins around and looks at me with pure horror.

“Brooke!” He lunges forward. “Your ankle!”

“It’s fine,” I say, already lifting an arm as Hunter rushes to my side. We slot together so nicely as he takes most of my weight again, helping me to the wicker sofa.

“Ah,” I joke weakly, settling down with a soft sigh. Hunter spins me around and makes me prop my ankle up on the cushions. “Back to the scene of the crime.”

Hunter ignores that. “You should have called for me. I’ll help you walk around.”

I know he will. Even when I just chewed him out for no good reason, even after I’ve been the worst guest in the world, Hunter would do anything for me. Because he’s a good man. The best.

That’s why I’ve loved him for most of my life.

“I’ll need to do these bandages again.” Hunter’s got the sweatpant leg rolled up, and he’s squatting by the sofa, fussing over the bruised mess of my ankle. He always was handsome when he was clean-shaven too, like a Hollywood star got lost in our mountain town, but he’s extra delicious with that beard. It makes him look rugged. Less polished. A bit dangerous.

Yowza.

“I’m sorry I got them wet.” My nose wrinkles as Hunter unwinds them again, my bruised ankle throbbing hotly. The wicker creaks as I shift restlessly. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s alright.” Hunter is laser-focused on his work—or maybe he doesn’t want to look at me anymore. Too busy watching his hands. “I should have offered you a shower first. That would have been smarter, but it didn’t occur to me earlier that you might be here overnight.”

“…Right.”

Because the two of us together is so unthinkable. Blargh.

There’s a slight pause, then Hunter whips his head up, eyes wide. Like he just heard his own words back. “I only meant—”

My hand raises. “It’s okay.”

Sure, it makes my insides ache, but it really is okay. Hunter doesn’t owe me anything.

But his blue eyes narrow, and his knees thump down on the deck. Over his shoulder, the birds are still chattering in the canopy, like they’re gossiping together about this new show. The two humans who can’t decide whether to fight, mate or flee.

“It’s not okay,” Hunter says firmly. “And that’s not what I meant. I always want you here, Brooke, and I’d fucking love for you to stay the night with me. It just never occurred to me as an option, that’s all.”

The first stars are out already, winking in the lavender sky. Pressing my lips together, I gaze up at them, suddenly light enough that I could float up off this sofa and join them. Does he really mean that?

“So.” Hunter bends back down to his task of re-wrapping my ankle. It’s a good thing we left all the supplies scattered here earlier, too busy making out to clean up. “We’re clear.”

Yup. We’re clear.

Reaching out, I flick a button of his shirt undone, pressing my lips together against a smile. Hunter coughs out a laugh, then goes still.

Then he looks up at me, square in the eye, and my belly swoops in response.

“What if I don’t want you to go?” Hunter asks, each word confident and clear. “What if I never want you to leave, Brooke? What if I want to keep you with me here forever?”

Oh god. Aah!

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