by Devney Perry
“Carrying you.”
“You can’t carry me.”
He looked down at me and smiled. “Sure, I can.”
“I’m too heavy.”
“You’re light as a feather, besides, it’s not much farther.”
Not much farther? “It’s miles.” Four point two miles, to be exact.
“It’s just up this incline.” He took a step in the wrong direction. Instead of turning and taking me back down the trail, he started marching forward, carefully navigating the rocky trail as he carried me toward the peak.
“Where are you going?” I squirmed, trying to get down but he just gripped me tighter. “Cole, no! You’ll hurt yourself. It’s too steep.”
He paused and considered my words. “You’re right.” He set me down on my bare feet and unslung the backpack. “Put this on for me, would you?”
“But—”
“Now, Poppy. I want to get back before dark.”
I didn’t argue—I just strapped on the pack. With him carrying me, our descent would be much slower and I didn’t want to delay us getting back on the trail. The last thing I wanted was to be out here at night with the bears.
He tapped his back and crouched. “Climb on.”
“Okay.” With a tiny jump, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. He boosted me higher so his arms were cupped underneath my knees.
“Are you good?” When I hummed an uh-huh, he took a step, again in the wrong direction.
“Cole, what are you doing? We need to turn back.” I swung an arm behind us, in the direction we were supposed to be going.
“Hold still, Poppy.” He took another step. “And clamp tight with your legs.”
“Cole,” I pleaded. “It’s too much. Turn around.”
He ignored me, moving forward on the trail without so much as a backward glance or a labored breath.
“Please?” I whispered into his hair.
“Not a chance. Just hold tight.”
No amount of pleading or begging would change his mind so I stayed quiet, doing what he’d asked. I clamped my legs tight and did my best to hold still, making it as easy as possible for him to get up the trail.
Which he did. He carried me up the trail and right to the shore of the icy mountain lake.
Cole set me down on my bare feet and stepped behind me to open the backpack and dig out my canteen. As the cold from the ground seeped into my aching feet, dulling some of the pain, he took a long drink of water. Then he put the canteen back and stood at my side, staring out to the lake.
“Look at that.” He pointed to the glaciers cutting their way through the valleys of the high peaks. “Incredible.”
I was too fixed on his profile to take in the scenery. “You carried me.”
Cole’s eyes broke away from the view. “I’ll carry you back down too.”
“But why? Why didn’t you just turn back?”
He shrugged. “You said you needed to do this. Now you have.”
This man took my breath away.
“Cole, I . . .” As much as I wanted to thank him, to say anything, none of the words in my head were enough to convey how much this meant.
When I hadn’t been strong enough to do something myself—when the pain had been too much—he’d done it for me.
“It’s okay, Poppy.” He turned back to the view. “Just enjoy it.”
“All right.” I turned and let my eyes take in everything before us. And as I studied the lake and the glaciers and the mountain, I realized something.
Maybe I didn’t have to be strong enough to banish the pain away all by myself.
Maybe being strong meant learning to lean on those who would take some of the pain away.
Like the man at my side.
By the time we made it back to the lodge, the sun had begun to set. Cole had carried me all the way down the mountain—he’d endured over four miles with me on his back. When we’d gotten to the easier part of the trail, I’d offered to walk in my socks but he’d refused to set me down no matter how much I had pleaded.
Finally, my feet hit the ground when we reached a bench outside the lodge.
“Do you want to go up to the room or would you like to grab dinner first?”
He ran a hand over his face. “I need a shower, but I’d really like to eat first so I can crash after I get cleaned up. I’m wiped.”
“Dinner it is. Just let me go grab the flip-flops I left in the truck.”
“I’ll go get them.”
“Cole, sit and take a break.” I pointed to the bench. “I can walk across a paved parking lot in my bare feet.”
He relented, digging his truck keys out of his pocket.
I took them and hustled toward the parking lot, looking over my shoulder to see him slouched on the bench. He looked more exhausted than I’d ever seen before.
All because of me.
I walked faster, my pace matching the speed of my racing thoughts.
Was I taking too much from Cole? He’d offered his help freely, but was I taking advantage? First, he’d taken on Jamie’s murder case at work. Then the birthday list and everything that came along with it. The truck. The weekend activities. The hike.
I didn’t want him to resent me by the time we’d finished the list. I didn’t want him to think that all I wanted from him was his help.
My worries were put on hold as I reached his truck. I slipped on the flip-flops I’d tossed in the backseat just in case, then hurried back so we could get Cole some much-needed calories and a well-deserved beer.
An hour later, Cole patted his stomach, having just polished off a plate of home fries and an enormous rib eye. “That was good. Not as good as your food, but still. It hit the spot.”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “Too bad there isn’t a way to serve steak in a jar.”
He chuckled. “If anyone could figure it out though, my money is on you.”
“I think I’ll just save the steak recipes for home. I’ll dig them out when I come over to break in your kitchen.”
His hand covered mine on the bar between us. “I’d like that.”
“Me too.” I turned over my hand to thread my fingers in his.
We hadn’t discussed the kiss we’d shared in his kitchen and we hadn’t had another since. I just hoped he knew that the tears that had followed were not because I’d regretted that moment.
I could never regret that kiss.
“I hope you—”
“Do you want another beer?” The bartender, a young woman with spiked black hair, interrupted.
Cole let go of my hand and reached into his pocket for his wallet. “No. Just the check. Thanks.”
“You got it.” She tapped a cardboard coaster on the bar and walked to the register.
“Here.” He handed me a stack of twenties. “I’ll be right back.”
He stood from his stool, leaning down to kiss my forehead, then walked toward the restrooms. His footsteps were slow and heavy. His broad shoulders stretched the white cotton of his T-shirt as he hunched forward. And the way he was rolling his neck, he must be getting one of his headaches.
“Here you go.” The bartender leaned her arms on the bar after setting down our ticket. “Your husband looks like he had a rough day.”
“Oh, um,” I fumbled the cash as I handed it over, “he’s not my husband.”
Her eyes darted to my left hand, zeroing in on my wedding rings. “Oh-kay.” She pushed off the bar and held up her hands. “No judgment here. Just assumed.”
“No!” My hands flailed as I did my best to explain I wasn’t having an affair. “It’s not like that. I’m . . . I’m not married. My husband passed away and I just haven’t taken off my rings.”
“Sorry.” Her face softened before she spun around and went to the register to make change.
Okay, that was awkward. I twirled the rings on my finger. Was it time to take them off? If I really wanted to move on, I couldn’t keep wearing them.
; Before I could work up the courage to pull them off, Cole’s hand landed on my shoulder. “All set?”
I nodded. “She’s just bringing back the change.”
The bartender appeared with cash in hand, but Cole just waved her off. “Keep it. Thanks.”
I hopped off my stool, then followed Cole as we made our way to the front desk to collect the bags we’d dropped off earlier. We took them from the desk clerk, then made our way to the second floor and down a long hallway to our room.
I tossed my bags on one bed as Cole did the same on the other before sinking into the chair by the balcony door. “Go ahead. You can take the first shower.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded and rested his head against the back of the chair.
“Okay. I’ll be fast.” I swiped my bag off the bed and hurried to the bathroom, knowing that the faster I showered, the sooner Cole could get in here and get some sleep.
I turned on the water and stripped off my clothes. The blisters on my feet had started to dry thanks to hours of being exposed to the air, but still, when I stepped under the water, I hissed at the sharp sting. Luckily, it faded fast as I took the fastest shower of my life.
With my hair wrapped in a towel, I emerged from the bathroom, dressed in maroon sleep shorts and a matching camisole. “All done.”
My feet stopped as my eyes landed on Cole.
He’d fallen asleep in the chair.
His hat was resting on one knee and his hair was matted down. His neck and jaw were covered in stubble, and his clothes were dirty and wrinkled. He was a mess.
He was a mess and the most handsome man I’d ever seen.
Cole was simply breathtaking.
Quietly, I set down my backpack on the floor and crossed the room. “Cole.” I touched a hand to his shoulder.
He jerked awake, blinking a couple of times to clear the sleep away. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Go take a shower and then get into bed.”
He nodded, easing up from the chair, then striding to the bathroom.
I took the towel off my hair, quickly combing it out and leaving it to air-dry. When the shower turned on, I opened the balcony door and stepped outside. The night air was cold and gave me goose bumps, but I ignored the chill and focused on my left hand.
Carefully, I slid the ring that Jamie had given me the day we’d gotten engaged off my finger. Then I slid off the simple band he’d given me on our wedding day.
I’ll always love you, Jamie, but it’s time to let these go.
I couldn’t wear his rings anymore.
Not when I was falling in love with Cole.
Chapter Sixteen
44th Birthday: Get a dog to keep for its entire life
POPPY
I was just sliding the balcony door closed when the bathroom door opened.
“I feel like a new man.”
“Good.” I had a smile on my face when I turned around, but it faltered as Cole crossed the room.
He was towel drying his hair, wearing nothing but a pair of black pajama pants that hung low—unbelievably low—on his hips.
My breath didn’t just hitch, it vanished. Every molecule of oxygen evaporated with a single glance.
Because Cole was cut—really cut. His arms were so chiseled, the dips between his muscles resembled the mountain valleys we’d seen earlier on our hike. Hours wouldn’t be long enough to trace all of those dips. His chest was dusted with just a bit of hair, but plenty to entertain my fingers for days. And his abs belonged on the cover of a romance novel. I’d expected his stomach to be flat. His T-shirts and polos were never puffed out around the middle, not even after a large meal. But Cole’s abs weren’t flat—they were ripped. The skin covering the muscle was so lean his stomach was the definition of a washboard.
If I knew who’d invented karate, I’d send them a thank-you note.
Cole dropped the towel and I snapped my eyes to the floor, trying to hide the fact that I’d just been drooling over his upper body.
“I don’t suppose you have any painkillers in that massive purse of yours.”
“Sure,” I panted, remembering to breathe again. My arms led the way to my purse on the bed, digging frantically for the pill bottle at the bottom. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He popped the cap, shook out some pills and grabbed one of the water bottles I’d brought along.
The cords of his throat mesmerized me as he tipped the bottle back to his lips and started gulping. As if I were watching the water on its path, my eyes traveled down his throat, skimming over his collarbone and down the center line that cut between his pecs and stomach. I watched it flow all the way down to the V that disappeared between the waistband of his pajamas, then down a little farther, to the bulge no cotton could conceal.
Cole dropped the water bottle from his lips. I turned back to my handbag, pretending to organize it while my cheeks cooled. “Headache?” I asked, pushing things around on the bottom of my purse.
“I’ll be fine.” He set the pill bottle by the TV and rolled his neck.
He was trying to play it off, but I knew he was in pain. Setting my purse aside, I pointed to the end of my bed. “Come sit down.”
Without question, he sank into the mattress. His shoulders rolled forward as he hung his head.
I climbed on the bed behind him, staying on my knees as I scooted my way to his back. With the slightest touch, I placed my hands on his bare shoulders. A zap of electricity shot up to my elbows and the heat from his skin infused my cool fingers.
Cole tensed and the muscles in his back became even more pronounced—he’d felt that zap too.
My heart was racing but I ignored its drumming beat and began kneading my thumbs into the base of his neck.
“You don’t have to do this.”
I added more pressure. “Just close your eyes and relax.”
Cole gave me a faint nod and then hung his head again, relaxing with every passing second as I worked up and down his neck, then back and forth across his shoulders.
“Is it helping?”
He nodded. “You have magic hands.”
“If the restaurant doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll become a massage therapist.”
A quiet laugh came from deep in his chest, the rumble sending tingles skittering over my forearms. “Talk to me about something. Your voice is soothing.”
My hands paused. No one had ever complimented my voice before. It was funny how a little bit of his praise made me like something about myself I hadn’t really considered special before. So if my voice would help soothe Cole’s headache after a long day of literally hauling me around, I’d read him my grocery list. “What do you want me to talk about?”
“Anything. How about your family? Are you close with your parents?”
The thought of them warmed my heart. “I am. We don’t get to see each other much but I talk to them both a couple times a week. And they always come down for Kali’s and Max’s birthdays and for Christmas too.”
“When was the last time you were in Alaska?”
“Two years ago. I went up not long before I bought the garage and started renovating it for the restaurant. I spent a couple of weeks up there getting my dad’s advice on my business plan and having my mom help me brainstorm a full menu.”
My hands dug harder into Cole’s neck, working away one of the knots.
“What do your parents do?”
“Dad is a pilot. He has his own business flying supplies into northern Alaska. He’s built it up over the years and has a bunch of pilots working for him now. He could retire anytime, but he loves flying. And Mom is a private chef in Anchorage.”
“Is that where you got your love of cooking?”
I smiled. “Yes. Mom taught me how to cook.” She had passed down her passion for food, while Dad had paid for my business degree from Montana State. They’d both given me the tools to make food my career.
“What about your grandparents?”
My ha
nds moved down Cole’s neck to his shoulders again. With every circle of my thumbs, the tension eased away. “They’re all still in Alaska. Dad’s parents live in the same place they have for fifty years, three blocks away from my parents’ house. And Mom’s parents are in a nursing home. They’re in their nineties now but otherwise in good health. Though neither of them can hear very well anymore.”
He sighed. “It’s nice that you still have all of them. My grandparents all passed when I was younger.”
“I’m sorry.”
Before Jamie, I’d never lost anyone. Maybe that was a tiny part of why his death had been so devastating. So shocking. It had been a wake-up call that the time we had with our loved ones was fleeting.
As if he could feel my moment of sadness, Cole reached up and put his hand over mine, squeezing once before dropping it back to his lap.
I rubbed his shoulders and neck for a while longer until my fingers finally wore out. But I didn’t want to stop touching Cole, so I inched my knees closer. My hands slid up his neck, past his ears and into his hair. “Lean back.”
Cole looked up at me through dark lashes, watching as my fingers massaged his scalp. “Magic fingers,” he whispered, “and beautiful eyes.”
My hands kept working at Cole’s hair as I held his gaze. The intensity between us grew with every passing second that we refused to break apart—refused to even blink.
And in that moment, I opened myself up completely to Cole. Without words, I told him how much he meant to me. How he’d stitched my broken pieces back together. And in his tender gaze—deep in his pale-green irises—he showed me a vulnerability I’d never seen. His eyes pleaded for me to take care of his heart.
I’d protect it always.
The heat between us grew as the seconds passed, but still, we didn’t break our stare. My hands stopped moving as my chest heaved with choppy breaths. Cole sat frozen against me—waiting.
Waiting for my signal.
I blinked before filling my lungs with a jagged breath. “Will you do something for me?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“Kiss me.”
His head came off my shoulder as he twisted. With his arms bracketing my knees, Cole leaned forward, fitting his naked chest against my front. His hands left the bed, traveling up my sides with the lightest touch. Those long fingers grazed the sides of my breasts before running over my bare arms and up, into my damp hair.
