Page 20 of Wild Valentine
8
HAZEL
My head is full of the story that Marcus told me on the hike. It reverberates around my brain, threading itself into different passages of time and emotion. I feel for the mountain man, his service to his country, what he experienced in Iraq, and how he’s quietly endured the darkness of it ever since. It’s an incredible story of hope and sacrifice and the unseen mental health toll war takes on our service men and women.
The ride back on the bike gives me time to silently process all that he’s just told me. I’m aching to get my thoughts down in writing, to make sense of what he’s told me and weave it into his story.
When we get back to his place, Marcus drops me off at my cabin. Even though I want to spend more time with the big mountain man, I’m relieved when he says he has to stop in at the club. I want to get my thoughts down on paper while they’re still fresh in my head.
We agree to meet at his place for dinner. Then he kisses me long and hard until my lips are swollen.
As soon as I’m in the cabin, I make a pot of coffee and pull out my laptop. I still have Marcus’s leather jacket with the WildRiders patch on it, and I pull it around my shoulders as I sit cross-legged on the bed with my laptop on my lap.
My fingers fly over the keys as I get his story down. My heart is breaking all over again as I type it up. But I know Marcus doesn’t want my sympathy. He told me his story because he trusts me. Because in the few days that I’ve been here, there’s no denying the connection between us. The impossible connection between a New York girl and a wild mountain man.
I wonder what it would be like to live out here permanently, to not have to go back to a shitty boss and the bustle of the city.
I’m sure it’s being around all this nature that has me so inspired as well. I’ve never written so fast as I do now, with the sounds of the wind blowing in the trees around me and the gentle call of birds. There’re no city noises, no city smells, no distractions.
I close my eyes and imagine a life out here in Marcus’s cabin. Growing our own herbs, cooking together, him quietly working in his workshop while I write.
My phone buzzes, and it’s Mom. Guilt floods me as my fantasy vanishes. Of course I can’t leave Mom alone, even if he was into me for more than a few days’ fling. I put the fantasy aside and answer the call.
A few hours later, we’re seated at Marcus’s table after finishing up dinner. I insisted on cooking tonight, even though mac n’ cheese is about the only thing I know how to make. I don’t have much time to cook at home, and it’s usually beige food from the freezer or a ready meal. I can practically feel myself getting healthier out here.
I’m pushing the last bit of macaroni around my plate, thinking about Mom and wondering what she’s having to eat.
She seemed fine when I talked to her. Only four days till V Day, she merrily reminded me. Which is a reminder that I need to get back. My flight leaves tomorrow at midday. And as muchas I can’t wait to get back to Mom, I’m dreading leaving Marcus. Dreading getting back to my bills and debts and real life. This has been a good distraction, but it’s only that.
“What are you thinking about?”
My head snaps up to find Marcus crouched beside my chair, a half amused smile on his face.
“You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
His soft brown eyes are full of genuine concern.
“Just thinking about Mom.” Which is half the truth. I haven’t told him about my debts. It’s not something I want to discuss.
“You want to give her a call?”
“I already did. She’s fine. It’s just… four days till Valentine’s Day…”
He doesn’t laugh at me. Instead he takes my hand, acknowledging my concern about the family curse.
“You leave tomorrow.” His voice is quiet, resigned.
I want him to ask me to stay with him here on the mountain. But he doesn’t. He won’t. Not now that he knows about my mom.
“Yes. I need to get back to her. It might be…” I can’t finish the sentence.
It might be her last few days in this realm. I should be on the plane right now; I shouldn’t have even come. But there’s a chance that the Valentine’s curse is bullshit, and Mom will keep hanging on. I’m holding onto that chance.
“Oh angel, I’m sorry.”
Marcus pulls me to my feet and puts his arms around me. I lean into him, into his solid body, and feel warmth spread through me. He won’t ask me to stay. I get that, but maybe for one night I can forget about everything. For one night, I can do something reckless and fun, something for myself before I go back and face my real life.
He kisses me then, a slow, tender kiss that I feel all the way to my bones. My body heats, and along with the comfort comes a slow burning need. My skin prickles, and my body responds to him. My pussy flutters to life, and damp heat spreads between my legs.
