Page 16 of Wild Daddy

I unload the truck, putting the lighter pack on her shoulders. She looks out of place but relaxed as I point up the trail.

“Our hotel for tonight.” My cabin sits in a clearing I carved out myself—one room, wood stove, no electricity, no bullshit. Built with my own hands on land that belongs to me.

“This is where you live?" she asks.

"This is where we're staying tonight. Sort of base camp. Not my home. Tomorrow we head deeper into the mountains."

"Deeper?" Her voice cracks slightly. "This isn't deep enough?"

I look at her, letting a slow smile spread across my face. "Oh, little girl. You have no idea how deep I can go."

The way her pupils dilate tells me she catches my meaning loud and clear.

She hurries to catch up, nearly tripping over a tree root. "Wait... We’re not going to be sleeping without central heating though, right? It's October in Michigan."

"Which is why you'll be sleeping in my bag. With me."

That stops her cold. "With you?"

"Body heat's the most efficient way to stay warm. Basic survival 101." I guide her to the front door, dropping down some of the supplies before turning and bracing my hands on the two wooden pillars that hold up the little overhang where she’s standing.

"But..." She's doing that overthinking thing again. "The lines between are really blurry. I am completely out of my element with this. I am not sure we are making wise choices. Like, with what happened back in the shop--"

She tugs her lips side to side and even with her fussing, her nipples are distracting as fuck pushing out on the khaki button up shirt she’s wearing.

"What happened was you paying your deposit. That’s what it was, don’t dissect everything, baby. Just be." I unlock the cabin door. "This is about keeping you alive but it’s bigger than that. Truth, I’m a little confused about it too. Like I said, I swore off women ten years ago. Too much drama, I like being alone. Sex is sex, fine but what I could give myself with my fist worked."

“Really? You are honestly telling me that a guy that looks like you, doesn’t have a revolving door on his bedroom? I find that hard to believe. You are forearm porn and mountain man romance cover candy.”

“Look.” I tower over her, drawing a hard breath then exhaling, my breath making a few strands of her loose hair danceon her forehead. “We’re both on this adventure. I’m learning too. Learning about how it feels to want someone else to be happy. And safe. The fucking idea of you getting hurt or someone hurting you?” I shake my head, my molars grinding together. “It’s like you’ve awakened something dormant inside me and I’m a man of instincts, not agendas and flow charts. I’m following my gut baby and it’s leading me to you at every turn.”

Her dark lashes flutter, she’s processing and I’ll let her, because honestly, this is a lot for me to fucking process as well. Besides, my dick aches like I motherfucker and I need to move around.

“Come on. Let’s get things inside.”

I unlock the door and move the supplies inside as she follows, setting her pack down on the rough wooden floor just inside the door.

Inside, I start getting our gear and supplies organized as she moves to the window looking out the back of the small structure, staring out at endless trees. "I don't think I've ever been anywhere this quiet before."

"Good. Maybe you'll learn to listen to something besides professors for once."

She turns to watch me stack split wood into the cast iron pot belly stove. "You really don't like academics, do you?" She tips her head to the side, waiting as wad up some newspaper, the crinkling sound filling the small space before I stuff it under the stacked wood.

"It’s not that. I think there are lots of ways to learn. Some people don’t learn inside four walls from books and lectures and the world seems to put more value on that kind of knowledge and I disagree." I snap a match on the side of the box, the newspaper catching with a crackle, then a whoosh as I open the flue and the hot air finds it’s exit. She’s leaning on the windowsill, arms crossed when I stand and make short work ofclosing the space between us. “You're nineteen with a master's degree, but you can't start a fire or find your way out of these woods if something happened to me."

Marley lowers her eyes as I spread my feet shoulder width apart, hands moving to her shoulders, making ownership of her and this space. "That's not necessarily true. I could possibly use the location of the sun to figure out" She gives up smart enough to know I’m right.

"When's the last time you did something that wasn't for a grade?" I slide my hands to her neck, her softness under my rough palms, feeling how small she is when my fingers easily overlap, my thumbs pushing up into that soft space under her chin. "When's the last time you took a risk that wasn’t about being turned into data?"

Her breathing goes shallow. "Last night."

"That's right. And how did that feel?"

"Terrifying."

"And?"

"Amazing."

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