Page 5 of Wild Peak

Hunter is quiet for a long time. The only sounds are the breeze whispering through the trees, the snap of twigs and crunch of stones beneath our boots, and my own pained whimpers each time I step on my bad ankle. That, and a distant flurry of birdsong.

It’s so calm out here away from everything. It’s not like the eerie silence of my apartment sometimes, when the world is muffled, swaddled in cotton balls, and a dripping faucet can be deafening. It’s not manufactured or unnatural in any way.

It’s… peaceful. Nice.

Even with my ankle throbbing like a bitch, part of me is already making plans to get back out here again soon. Turns out the whole town was right about hiking after all.

Not that I’ll ever admit it to most of them.

“You were never out of place with us,” Hunter says at last, his arm still wrapped firmly around my waist. “Not with me and Jake. You always belonged with us. You alwayswillbelong.”

Warm relief seeps through my veins at his words, like I’ve somehow been waiting half my life to hear that and not even realized it. Have I been on edge for this whole time? Waiting and hoping to be accepted by the two people I always cared about most? No wonder I get a stiff neck sometimes.

Momentarily shameless, I lean into my brother’s best friend, and he squeezes my hip in return.

Oh.

Oh, no.

This is a bad time and place for butterflies to explode in my belly.Right? A bad time for me to flush bright red. Jeez, I’d forgotten what it even feels like to get all flustered and turned on, but apparently with Hunter, all it takes is a few minutes and a short conversation.

And a hip squeeze, from that strong, callused hand. Damn.

* * *

Turns out Hunter’s cabin is about a mile down from the peak, tucked in a copse of birch trees with a small, glassy lake nearby. The water is so clear it’s almost invisible, and as Hunter carries me past the water’s edge, schools of tiny silver fish dart in his shadow.

It’s hot and dry out here, the breeze so welcome against my skin, and my overheated bodylongsto dunk in that lake, even though I know full well it would be freezing. An ice cold shock to the system.

“Do you ever swim in there?”

Hunter shrugs, jostling me a little on his back. He started carrying me piggyback style a while ago, after declaring that my pained little whimpers were breaking his heart.

Needless to say, I did not resist.

“Sometimes,” he says, barely winded even though I’m a pretty big girl. A lot to carry down a mountain, that’s for sure, but he’s sure-footed and strong beneath me. “It’s not that wide or deep, though. For a real swim, the lake two miles southeast of here is better.”

Honestly, I’d have made a way bigger scene earlier on if I knew it would get me a piggyback ride. Up here, I have a front row seat to Hunter’s sculpted muscles where they bunch and flex beneath his flannel shirt, and his clean man musk fills my lungs. I keep taking greedy breaths, sniffing at the back of his collar. God, I was alwaysaddictedto his scent when I was growing up, and now it’s matured into something even more delicious.

Pheromones, huh? What a drug.

My thighs grip either side of his waist, and since I’m safely behind him, Hunter can’t see the faces I’m pulling. The way I’m turning to jelly at his low voice, his strong arms, his gruff demeanor. That freakingscent.

But even as I’m drowning in all the Hunter-related sensations, questions still niggle at my brain. Like: why did he move up here three years ago? Hunter was always so social growing up, and I hear they all loved him in the city too. So why hide himself away in this cabin by the lake?

Jake still sees him sometimes. I’ve known from my brother’s offhand comments that the two of them hang out now and then. So why leave the rest of the town behind?

Why leaveme?

“Here we go.” Wooden steps creak faintly as Hunter carries me up onto the cabin deck. It’s like a fairy tale cottage but, you know. Manlier. “Welcome to Casa Hunter. I’ll get you bandaged up in no time, Brookewo—Brooke.”

Okay, now that he’s withholding my nickname, I desperately want to hear it again. But when I open my mouth to tell him so, Hunter deposits me down on the wicker sofa on his deck, and I sprawl in an undignified tangle.

“Wait there a sec.” Those blue eyes are piercing in the sunshine. They scan me from head to toe, like he’s still worried about my fall. “I’ll fetch the first aid kit and some water.”

“And a snack,” I say quickly, thinking of the bran muffin that has surely disintegrated into crumbs in my bag.

Hunter’s mouth tugs up on one side, and that half grin makes my heart flutter. He nods before turning to unlock the door. “And a snack. Got it.”

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