Page 90 of Beneath the Mountain Sky
“And you barely met my eyes once.” She huffs. “You barely spoke ten words to me the entire day. And as soon as we got here, you disappeared as quickly as you could.”
“To take care of things around the homestead. We’ve been gone for two days?—”
“We both know Connor and Liam were taking care of things, weren’t they? So, stop bullshitting me. You were avoiding me because of what happened in the tent last night, and the only reason for you to be upset about that is because of whatever I can’t remember. So, it’s time you tell me. Now.”
WILLOW
Killian stares at me—the strongest man I’ve ever known now looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He’s never been afraid of anything in his life, has always taken on any challenge, any adversary, head-on and full-throttle.
The man never backs down from anyone or anything.
But right now, he looks ready to run.
I knew pushing for this, pushing him, might stir up some things that he would rather leave buried, but I can’t take it anymore. Not after the way he looked at me last night. Not after the way he touched me. Not after the words he said.
It told me everything I need to know.
He still loves me.
He still wants me as much as I do him.
Which means I need to know what the hell happened to tear us apart, to break what we had that was so fucking solid for so long in a way that he believes is irreparable.
“Please, Killian. Talk.” I try to keep the tremor out of my voice, but waking up in that bed alone—again—after spending the night in his arms only twenty-four hours ago has pushed me to the point that I can’t sit back anymore and pretend. “I may not be able to remember the last year, but I remember all the ones before that. I remember what we had together. I remember who you are, so none of this makes any sense to me. And the longer I go on without answers about this, the harder it is to live with the fact that I may never have answers about the last year. So, please, give me this. Give me some of my memories back.”
I realize how desperate it sounds, but it’s impossible to keep the plea from my voice at this point.
He scrubs his free hand over his beard and releases a long, heavy sigh, holding my gaze with his intense one. “I don’t want to hurt you again. I don’t know if you’re ready to?—”
My hands fist in the blanket. “Stop treating me like I’m going to fucking break, Killian.”
“Fuck.” He finally sighs and stares up at the stars above us, his clenched jaw working as he considers how to start. “You remember the Memorial Day Festival.”
“Yes. Watching you carve…”
He nods, still not looking at me. “And after?”
Heat floods my cheeks as I turn more toward him, drawn closer like the man has a tractor beam locked on me, and he finally drags his gaze to meet mine.
The flames simmering there aren’t the ones reflected from the bonfire in front of us. They’re the heat of what happened in the cabin when we got home that night, just over a year ago. We both remember it. We both still feel it.
My pussy throbs at the memory of how completely he consumed me. “I remember all that, too.”
Vividly.
He raises a brow. “And the next morning?”
No matter how hard I’ve tried over the past two weeks, nothing will come. He fucked me senseless. Tucked us into bed. And then…
Nothing.
I shake my head. “All just black.”
Concern furrowing his brow, Killian nods slowly. “We woke up…”—his throat bobs on a thick swallow—“and had sex again. And you made pancakes, hash browns, eggs, a whole spread for the boys and me.”
Which sounds like a pretty typical morning.
I would wake up and make them a monster breakfast to fuel them for the day before they went out to the timber yard, or out onto the mountain to fell trees with their men.
