Page 64 of Possessed By the Mountain Man
“I always ruin things.”
“Then ruin me,” he says darkly. “If that’s what it takes to keep you here—do it.”
Shock flashes through me, followed by a wild, helpless rush of emotion. He isn’t asking. He’s choosing. Choosing me. Choosingthis, messy and complicated and terrifying.
My fingers tremble on his chest. I lower myself slowly, heart in my throat. “What are we doing?”
A slow, dangerous smile curls his lips. “Living.”
I kiss him.
God, I kiss him like he might vanish. Like last night wasn’t enough. Like we might never stop. His mouth opens under mine and I taste him—coffee and candy corn and dark things I’m not afraid of anymore.
And it hits me.
I’m already his.
Completely. Stupidly. Undeniably.
“So now what?” I murmur against his lips.
He exhales like he’s been waiting for that question. “Now I give you something.”
I blink. “What?”
He shifts, reaching for something behind him near the stone hearth. When he sits back up, his hand is closed into a fist.
“What is that?”
He doesn’t answer.
My heart starts sprinting.
“Thorne—”
He takes my hand—my left hand—and places something in my palm.
It’s small. Round. Softly wrapped in purple foil.
I blink.
It’s a Halloween candy ring. A cheap plastic witch’s ring with a crooked hat, straight out of a trick-or-treat bag.
I stare at it, silent.
He holds my gaze, unflinching. “I don’t have diamonds but I’ll get one. I don’t do grand gestures. But I do real. And this? This is real.”
My throat tightens painfully.
“This ring,” he says, voice raw, “is a promise. I’m not running. I’m not letting go. I’m yours, Aspen Taylor—and you’re mine.”
Air leaves me.
He keeps going.
“If you want to leave here when the storm clears, I’ll let you. If you want your own space, I’ll build you a damn cottage.” His eyes burn into mine. “But whatever happens—I choose you. Today. Tomorrow. After. Always.”
My hand flies to my mouth.
