Page 28 of Her Mountain Rescuer

I pull back, looking into her eyes as I slip my hand into my pocket, my sweatpants still hanging low on my hips. She’s looking at me with such utter trust and devotion that it makes my heart stop for a full second before restarting.

“I love you, Hailey,” I say softly, my voice rough with emotion. I kiss her again, needing that connection. “I love you so fucking much.”

She smiles at me, her eyes bright. Shimmering. “I love you too, Beau. So much.”

I pull out the small silver ring box and pop it open. My heart hammers in my chest, and I wonder if I should pull out of her before asking, but it feels right to be connected like this while I propose. Given that I like to fall asleep with my cock buried inside her, it feels like us. I hold the open ring box between us and her eyes go wide, her mouth open.

“Hailey,” I start, then clear my throat around the emotion clogging it. “I never expected to have you in my life like this. I thought what I wanted was just a fantasy, destined never to come true. But now I have you, because by some miracle, you love me. And I love you more than I thought it was possible to love someone. I’ve known since that first night in that cabin in the woods, huddled together for warmth, that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to build a family with you. A life. I know we’ve only been together for a month, but I know what I want, and what I want is a future with you. One that we build together.”

“Brick by brick,” she whispers, and I press my forehead to hers. I’m shaking. Hailey’s crying, silent tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Brick by brick,” I echo shakily. “Will you marry me, Hailey?” My heart feels like it’s going to pound right out of my chest.

She nods, more tears spilling down her cheeks. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice raw. “Yes, Beau. I’ll marry you.”

Can a heart explode? Because I think mine’s on the verge. More happiness than I know what to do with floods my system, and I slip the simple solitaire on her finger with a trembling hand.

She looks at it, then looks at me, her eyes shining with a happiness I know is mirrored back to her in my own. She wraps her arms around me, clinging to me as she lets out a sob of joy.

“I love you, sweet girl. I’ve loved you in one way or another your entire life. And I’ll love you until the last breath leaves my lungs. I’ll love you forever.”

“Forever,” she sobs out, and then we’re kissing again, the outside world disappearing completely as a happiness unlike anything I’ve ever experienced wraps itself around us.

I might’ve been the one to rescue her from the storm, but deep down, I know the truth.

She’s the one who rescued me.

Eleven

Hailey

One month later

I cradle a mug of tea in my hands as I stare out the window. Snow is falling in soft, gentle flakes, sticking to the pines outside. The Christmas tree Beau and I put up two weeks ago glows merrily in the corner, gifts spilling out from beneath it—most of them for me, apparently. But there are gifts for my dad, for Kaylee, for other family members and friends, too.

Dad still isn’t thrilled about the idea that Beau and I are together now. That we’re getting married in May. But he’s coming around. I can tell he’s trying, and that means a lot to me. And Kaylee’s happy for us. She knew a little bit about my unrequited feelings for a much older man. She just had no idea it was Beau, my dad’s best friend. It must be strange for him that his best friend is going to be his son-in-law in just a few months.

It’ll also be strange that he’s going to become a father for the second timeanda grandfather in the same year.

Life is funny sometimes. We walk along our paths, hoping they take us in a certain direction, but never really knowing where we’re headed until we get there. And sometimes, if we’re lucky, the destination is so much better than anything we could’ve hoped for.

Beau adds another log to the fire crackling in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the living room. The firelight makes me think about the two of us huddled for warmth two months ago. About how my life changed drastically that day, and I don’t regret a single second of it. Sometimes, I think that I was meant to go on that hike and get caught in the storm. That it was all designed by fate to bring me and Beau together.

He sits down next to me on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, and I take a sip of my tea.

“I think you should start with this one,” he says, green eyes twinkling. We spend the next while exchanging gifts, enjoying the fire and the snow, snuggling together and taking our time. He’s given me a hand carved recipe box, a pretty necklace with my birthstone, some fuzzy slippers, several books, a new bird feeder to replace the one an overzealous squirrel destroyed, and several other goodies—perfume, a new robe, bath oils, hair clips.

I don’t have quite as much for him, but I do get him a new hiking backpack I know he’s been eyeing, a wallet, and a star map of the night sky the night of the storm. Our first night together. The start of the rest of our lives.

“I feel positively spoiled,” I say, surveying the gifts and the piles of ripped wrapping paper.

“As you should,” he says easily. He loops his arm around me, pulling me close and kissing me thoroughly. “Merry Christmas, Hailey.”

“Merry Christmas, Beau.” My stomach dips and swirls with excitement as I reach under the tree, pulling out one last gift hidden among the remaining ones. It’s a small rectangular box,wrapped in shiny red paper with a little gold bow. “One more,” I say with a smile, handing it to him. My pulse throbs in my ears and I feel a little shaky with anticipation.

Beau raises an eyebrow, a playful smile on his lips. “What could this be?” he murmurs, giving the box a little shake. He unwraps it carefully, as if sensing there’s something precious inside, revealing a small white box. He glances at me with a grin, then lifts the lid.

He goes completely still, his eyes locked on the positive pregnancy test with two pink lines, clear as day. I hold my breath, heart hammering away as I wait for his reaction.

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