Page 16 of Tension with the Mountain Man
"I didn't take the Vancouver job."
The words hit me like a fallen tree, crashing down all at once. "What?"
"I turned them down. This morning." She crosses her arms, defiant and beautiful and absolutely determined. "So your noble sacrifice was for nothing."
I stand slowly, trying to process what she's telling me. "Why would you do that?"
"Because Silver Ridge is where I belong. Because the work I do here matters, even if it's not prestigious or challenging inthe way Vancouver would be." She takes another step closer, and I catch her scent—clean and warm and everything I've been missing. "And because I'm in love with a stubborn logger who thinks he doesn't deserve good things."
The breath leaves my lungs in a rush. "Sally, you can't."
"Can't what? Love you? Too late." Her voice softens slightly, but her gaze remains fierce. "I fell for you that first night in your cabin, Tucker. Maybe even before that, when you sat perfectly still while I stitched you up and didn't try to impress me with war stories."
"You're making a mistake." The words feel like ash in my mouth. "I'm not good for you."
"Why? Because you blame yourself for accidents that aren't your fault? Because you carry the weight of your brother's death even though you were barely older than a kid yourself?" She's close enough to touch now, but she doesn't. Instead, she stands there like a warrior prepared for battle. "You think guilt makes you unworthy of love, but it just makes you human."
I want to reach for her so badly it physically hurts. "I can't lose you too."
"You already did. When you pushed me away, when you decided what was best for me without asking what I wanted." Her eyes are bright with unshed tears, but her voice remains steady. "But you don't have to keep losing me. That's a choice you're making."
"Sally."
"I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But fear isn't a good enough reason to throw away something this real." She steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from her body. "What we have doesn't come along every day, Tucker. Most people spend their whole lives looking for what we found in a week."
She's right. God help me, she's absolutely right. I've been so terrified of losing her that I pushed her away preemptively, convinced myself it was noble when it was really just cowardice.
"I don't know how to do this," I admit. "How to let someone in, how to build something that isn't defined by guilt and responsibility."
"We figure it out together." She reaches for my hands, linking our fingers, and the contact sends electricity shooting up my arms. "That's what people do when they love each other. They figure it out as they go."
"I’m sorry. I hurt you," I say, squeezing her hands like a lifeline. "When I told you to leave."
"Yes, you did. And if you ever make decisions for me again without consulting me, I'll use my medical training to cause you very specific, very painful injuries." The threat is delivered with a sweetness that makes it somehow more terrifying. "Are we clear?"
Despite everything, I find myself smiling. "Crystal."
"Good." She rises on her toes and kisses me, soft and forgiving and full of promise. "Now, are you going to keep punishing yourself for being human, or are you going to come home with me and let me show you how much I missed you?"
The heat in her voice makes my blood sing, but I need to say something first. "Sally, I’m so sorry."
"No more apologies," she interrupts. "No more guilt. No more pushing me away to 'protect' me. Just you and me, building something real together."
"You're sure? Even knowing what you're getting into? The job, the danger, the fact that I'll probably always carry Jake's death with me?"
"I'm sure." Her smile is radiant, transforming her entire face. "I've never been more sure of anything. I love all of you, Tucker Reeves. The good, the bad, the guilty, the protective. All of it."
That's when I break. All my carefully constructed walls crumble at once, and I haul her against me, crushing my mouth to hers with desperate relief. She melts into me like she was made to fit there, her arms winding around my neck, her body soft and yielding against mine.
"I missed you," I growl against her lips. "Christ, Sally, I missed you so much."
"Show me," she demands, her voice breathless with want. "Show me how much."
I don't need to be told twice. I lift her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the bedroom. But when I try to set her down gently, she stops me.
"No," she says, her voice rough with need. "I don't want to be gentle right now. I want you to claim me, mark me, make me yours in every way possible."
The raw honesty in her words nearly brings me to my knees.
