Page 14 of Made for Reign

His expression shifts, becoming almost wistful. "I live in a cabin up in the mountains. Built it myself over the course of a few summers."

I prop myself up on my elbow, studying his face. "A cabin?"

"It’s got a killer view,” he continues, his fingers finding my shoulder. "I put in a wrap-around porch that looks out over the valley. There's something about being up there, awayfrom everything. No cell service, no internet. Just you and the silence."

"Solar panels?" I guess, picturing him as the self-sufficient type.

"Yeah." He grins. "How'd you know?"

"You strike me as someone who'd want to be completely independent. Probably have a backup generator too."

"Guilty." His touch resumes its lazy stroking. "Most people think I'm crazy, living like that."

“Sounds nice.”

“Used to think so, too. But lately...” He trails off, his eyes studying my face. “Lately I’ve been thinking it might be nice to share it with someone.”

My heart does something funny in my chest. “Someone who appreciates the silence?”

“Someone who understands why it matters.”

The way he’s looking at me makes it hard to breathe. Like he’s seeing straight through to my soul. “You really are a mountain man, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?” he asks with a smirk.

“Everything. The way you move, like you’re used to rough terrain. How comfortable you are with silence. That protective instinct.” I shift to look at him better. “I bet you chop your own firewood.”

“Guilty again.”

“Hunt your own food?”

“When necessary.”

“Fix everything yourself instead of calling for help?”

“Where I live, help is two hours away on a good day.”

I feel ridiculously pleased with myself for reading him so accurately. “I knew it. The second I saw you, I thought, ‘mountain man.’”

“And what do you know about mountain men?” Amusement colors his voice.

“Just stories. Things you hear growing up.”

“What kind of stories?”

“About how they’re different. Wilder. More intense in everything they do.”

His eyes flash with something that makes my stomach flip. “And is that what you want? Intensity?”

“I...” The word sticks in my throat. Because yes, that’s exactly what I want. What I’ve always wanted but never knew how to ask for. “Yes.”

“Good.” He rolls us over so he’s hovering above me again, his weight supported on his forearms. “Because I plan to be very intense with you tonight.”

The promise in his voice makes me shiver. But there’s something else there, too, something that mirrors the ache in my own chest. Like we’re both trying to hold onto something we know we can’t keep.

Growing up, I heard stories about this. About people who met and fell so hard and fast that it changed everything. Love at first sight, the old-timers called it. I always thought they were fairy tales, romantic nonsense people told themselves to justify poor decisions.

But lying here with Reign, feeling like my entire world has shifted in the span of a few hours, I’m starting to understand. This isn’t just attraction or chemistry or good sex. This is something deeper, something that scares me as much as it thrills me.

---