Enjoy the View

by Sarah Morgenthaler

  Guilt at pulling rank filled him, but the anger still won out. Easton half expected her to slap him or call him an ass. Instead, River’s face went calm, cold, unaffected. The actress face, a blank mask. Never had Easton minded her ability to cover her emotions until that moment, when she used the skill because of him.

  “Lead the way,” she said calmly. But when he looked into her eyes, Easton wasn’t surprised to see that he’d hurt her.

  What surprised him the most was that he felt the same damn way.

  • • •

  Easton wasn’t a mean person. Still, his words had cut her to the bone.

  The absolute last thing River wanted to do was walk back into the Veil, but he was right. They couldn’t spend the night without cover, so back into the cauldron they returned. Anxiety kept her hand on the fixed line, and even though her brain knew she couldn’t see Easton behind her, River kept turning around to check on him. She was as worried about him getting through as she was the rest of them. Finally, they emerged out of the bottom of the ice canyon and limped to their campsite.

  Never before had River been so glad they didn’t have to set up camp. All she wanted was to sleep for a month.

  Bree met her as she was taking off her gear in her tent. “River? Are you okay? I’m worried about you.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, jerking off her boots and dropping down to her sleeping mat. Bree joined her.

  “Jessie’s worried too, but you know how he is.”

  With a small laugh, River said, “He’d rather suck on a lemon than tell me?”

  “Something like that.”

  River stayed quiet for a few moments, but Bree was a patient person. Finally, River sighed. “I should be over there swooning beneath the glory of the man bun, but I’m so mad at him, I can’t think straight.”

  Taking her hand, Bree squeezed it.

  “River, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Easton, but what I do know is there hasn’t been a day since we started this climb without cameras on you all the time. Shot after shot, and you know what? He is always there. Just like with Ruby Lou, standing with his arms crossed, frown on his face—”

  “We think,” River joked half-heartedly. “The beard still fools me.”

  Bree nodded ruefully. “Yes. We think, but we don’t know. But what we do know—or at least Jessie and I know—is for a man who only wanted to be filmed from the knees down, he’s in almost every single shot. He won’t leave your side, River.”

  Squeezing her hand again, Bree lay down next to her. “I don’t know Easton. But I know the expression on his face when he was trying to find you. He was terrified.”

  Bree let that linger between them before continuing.

  “We make movies for a living. We show people excitement and love and romance. We make being afraid exciting and being rescued sexy. But real fear…it’s not sexy. It makes you want to curl up in a ball, hide in a tent, and yell at the people you love. Real fear is awful. And you both went through that today.”

  “You think I love him?” River looked at her friend.

  “I think you something him. And I know he somethings you too. From what Ben told me, he went full Indiana Jones in there to save you.”

  River nodded, inhaling a deep breath and feeling like there was never enough oxygen to fill her lungs. Just like Easton. One word, one look, one kiss. One touch of his hand on her skin, and River was laid out, a fish suffocating on the shore. Dying for more. And she’d almost gotten him killed, which was a big, big problem.

  Today, Easton Lockett had proved he was willing to die for her.

  “For what it’s worth,” Bree said, “I think he’s as upset as you are. I think you should go talk to him.”

  River climbed to her feet. “For what it’s worth,” she decided, “I think I should too.”

  • • •

  Choosing not to eat with his people, Easton stayed in his tent, brooding over the maps and visualizing the best paths to take up the mountain. The marmot had been waiting for him, clearly upset at being left behind again and giving Easton his second chewing out of the day. He’d thought letting it into his tent would help, but apparently that gave them the privacy for the marmot to express its displeasure.

  “I can’t take you through the Veil,” he told the furball. “It’s not safe for you.”

  A harsh chittering reply told him the marmot strongly disagreed.

  “I can’t even get them safely through. And I never made any promises to you about summiting.”

  The marmot bit his boot.

  “Oh, that’s really mature. Compromise is two-sided you know.”

  A sniff of disgust was all the marmot would reply.

  Distracted by the argument, Easton didn’t notice someone approaching his tent until a hand lightly slapped the outside fabric.

  “Knock-knock.”

  He could no sooner refuse her entrance than he could stop the sun from circling the sky. “Come in,” Easton grunted. “Watch out. The furball is pissed off.”

  River had a thermos that smelled of tomato soup in her hand and a look of wanting to make peace on her face. At least the expressionlessness was gone. Easton had never hated anything more than looking at her and her not looking back at him. When the marmot narrowed its eyes at her, he scooped it up and dumped it outside, zipping the tent.

  “One lecture at a time,” Easton grumbled when she raised an eyebrow.

  “You didn’t come to dinner,” she said by way of explanation.

  “Had a protein bar.” Even as he said it, he accepted the thermos she offered him. “Thanks.”

  Easton wasn’t hungry in the least, and the protein bar he’d forced down had tasted like chalk. Still, he kept the thermos in his lap to protect it from the icy ground.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you at me?”

  At her question, Easton finally met her eyes. “I’m not sure. But the marmot might be back in the tent tonight.”

  “And I’m out?” River joked.

  “We’re still deciding.”

  “I’m sorry,” River said quietly. “I know I screwed up. In the moment, I couldn’t let it go.”

  Easton took a sip of the soup, even though he didn’t like tomato soup. She’d made it for him, and that meant something to him. “I know the feeling.”

  Sitting next to him, River took off her boots, then folded her legs beneath her.

  “Did you check your feet?” he asked, rougher than he’d wanted to.

  “Yeah. I think I’m getting frostbite on my pinkie toe.”

  Easton’s head snapped up.

  “I didn’t want to say anything,” she admitted, “but I can’t feel it anymore.”

  “Show me.” Half expecting her to argue, Easton frowned at her. He didn’t understand the smile that came to her face. “What?”

  “The beard. It moved the opposite way.”

  “I have no idea what that means,” he grumbled. When Easton checked her toes, her skin was still its normal color. But her littlest toe was numb. Easton unzipped his jacket, then took her foot and put her leg beneath his arm, toes wedged inside his armpit.

  She looked at him like he was crazy. “What are you doing?”

  “Body heat helps the most to warm you up. So I’m putting your foot in my armpit.”

  River’s eyebrow rose. “And I don’t have any say in this matter?”

  Frown deepening, Easton cut his head to the side once. “No.”

  After a moment, she flashed an adorable grin at him. “You totally have a foot fetish.”

  “I’m trying to save your toe,” Easton said, because he wasn’t ready to cave yet. “My armpit is the warmest part of my body, so you can either deal with it or complain about it, but either way, you’re walking down this mountain with all your body parts still attached.�
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  He hadn’t meant to come off as rough as he did. Ashamed at the tone he’d taken, Easton added softly, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Settling back on her palms, she wiggled her toes. “Is this what being warm feels like? I’d forgotten.”

  “The Veil is brutal.” Easton didn’t like thinking about it. “And you were in there a long time.”

  Too long of a time.

  He could have gone easy on her, told her it was okay. Made the peace she clearly wanted. Instead, Easton decided to get real with her. “River? Have you ever seen someone die on a mountain?”

  River opened her mouth to say something, possibly to make a joke. Then she pursed her lips and shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”

  Easton had, and it wasn’t something he’d ever forget.

  “Sometimes you have to leave them,” he told her quietly. “When someone is hurt badly enough, there’s nothing you can do. The crevasses in the Veil are deep, but the fall might not finish you off.”

  Looking down at his soup, Easton readjusted her foot in his armpit. “You would have been in a lot of pain, and you would have lain there, knowing I was above you, but there would have been nothing I could do. I would have stayed with you as long as I could, but the Veil’s windchill can be the coldest part of the mountain. Eventually, I would have to leave, and you’d die alone. Freezing in an ice tomb, all alone.”

  Easton raised his eyes to her. “I’m not being dramatic. I’m trying to make you understand. There is nothing on any camera, anywhere, worth that. And I don’t know how I’d step off this mountain without you with me. I’m not sure how I’d live with myself,” Easton added softly. “Knowing I’d let it happen.”

  “It’s not your job to protect me, Easton. I’m a big girl; I can make my own choices.”

  His lips curved. “You can make your choices, and I’ll make mine. Hate to break it to you, but if you jump, I’m jumping after you. It’s the way I’m wired.”

  “Fine, but all rescue attempts have to be made shirtless with your hair down.” She wiggled her toes to try to tickle him. Unable to keep the smile from his face, Easton removed her foot from beneath his arm and cupped her toes within his hands.

  “Can you feel my fingers against your toes?” he asked. River nodded. “Even the little one?”

  “Not as much as the others,” she admitted, “but I can feel it now. I might be hyperaware of it at this point.”

  “Can you feel my fingernail digging in?”

  “I mean…yeah but—ow!”

  Easton smirked. “You’ll live.”

  Wrinkling her nose at him, she glared as she pulled on her sock. Somehow in her annoyance at him, she’d become even more beautiful. He was going to marry her if she let him. Also if she didn’t kill him first.

  “If my toe falls off, I’m blaming your adamantium claws.” River huffed, then she sighed and reached her fingers to his cheek, tugging his beard. “You know this is about more than a documentary for me, don’t you?”

  “I’ve suspected it was more than only making a point to Hollywood, but you don’t talk about it.”

  She was quiet for a while before answering. “Have you ever spent your life wanting something, but you can’t figure out what you’re missing? And you try and try, but nothing is ever quite right? That’s me. That’s been my life. And I feel like whatever it is I’m searching for, I’m going to find it up here. I’m already finding it up here. And I can’t quit halfway through. I can’t lose half the footage. I can’t fail, not when I’m this close.”

  “This close to what?” Easton asked quietly.

  “I don’t know. But I’m so close, I can taste it.”

  He nodded. “Then try to keep those toes on. You’ll need them to summit.”

  The words rolled off his tongue of their own accord, but as soon as he saw her eyes widen, Easton knew he’d get them up this mountain if he had to carry her entire crew on his back. With a squeal of delight, she flung her arms around his neck, then she pulled back, frowning at him.

  “This isn’t you trying to make up with me, right? We’re actually doing this because we earned it.”

  Easton nipped the finger waggling sternly in his face. “We’re doing this because—today aside—you earned it. I’m conveniently forgetting you unclipped today in the hope you’ll conveniently forget I could have been more diplomatic about being pissed about it.”

  “Selective memory is better when both parties are involved,” River told him. “Can I kiss you?”

  At this point, he was never going to figure out what she would say next, so he’d stopped trying. Instead, Easton said, “Already told you. You never have to ask.”

  She was all fire, but when he put his hands on her, pulling her close, River was sweet and rich on his tongue. He wanted her, so much more than he’d ever wanted a woman. The sheer idea of drawing someone into his arms, pulling her onto his lap and relishing the feel of her legs tightening around his waist on a climb was so unprofessional. Before her, he’d never been tempted. He’d never had a partner he literally couldn’t resist, but she was it.

  River was his drink of choice, and Easton didn’t have the willpower to say no.

  This time, she didn’t ask permission before resting her gloved hand on his face and kissing him again. Then she peeled off those gloves, and bare, chilled fingers found his jawline.

  “You’ll get frostbite,” he warned, turning his face to press small kisses to the tips of those slender fingers.

  “I need a moment. I’m getting to know your beard.”

  Easton sighed. “It’s only facial hair.”

  “Oh no, it’s an entity all its own.” Fingernails running through his beard, she tightened her hands into his hair, kissing him like she hadn’t taken a bad fall today. Like they both hadn’t almost died. She was strong, made for this kind of life, and her ability not only to exist but to thrive in his environment—one so brutal—only skyrocketed his attraction to her.

  Then her knees dug into his waist, her teeth nipping at his lower lip.

  “You’re killing me here, sweetheart. If you keep doing that, I’m never getting off this mountain in one piece.”

  “Would that be so bad? I kind of love it here.” A soft laugh escaped her, the fire in her eyes changing to a deeper, better kind of flame.

  Yeah. Him too. And as he wrapped her in his arms, it was only getting better.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning, the marmot broke up with Easton. Its little marmot bags were packed. It was moving on. Sometimes, love wasn’t enough, not when you deserved better. And clearly, the marmot knew it deserved better.

  Getting relocated out of the tent for River must have been the straw that broke the love story’s back.

  Never had River witnessed anything as funny as Easton standing there, getting chirped and barked at, until the marmot had bit the side of his boot in dismissal while he apologized to its furry backside. Ben tried to be supportive, telling Easton it would be okay, but it was all River could do not to laugh hysterically as the marmot headed back down the mountain, toward the tree line and someone who would meet its needs. Bree and Jessie didn’t even try to cover their sheer glee.

  And did they get the marmot leaving him on camera? Every single minute of it.

  After being dumped and left high and dry on the mountainside, an embarrassed Easton ordered them to break camp, then head back through the Veil, this time with the added burden of the extra weight on their backs. Above the geological feature was nothing but a steep ascent of ice and snow, with the occasional exposed outcrop to break up the landscape. They made camp beneath one of those outcrops, which did little to keep the steady—if quieter—wind off their tents.

  Yes, the view was amazing, and yes, they were getting great shots. But River was ready to get to the top already. The summit hung tantaliz
ingly above their heads, but Easton was insisting they stay at camp for another day to get used to the altitude.

  It was the relentless cold as much as the man bun that encouraged River to ditch her tent. River wasn’t the move-in-with-a-guy-on-the-first-mountain type of woman, but she was willing to make exceptions.

  The man was so warm.

  “I thought you wanted to keep things professional on your worksite,” Easton murmured as River wriggled closer to him. She hadn’t bothered to hide from everyone that she had no intention of sleeping cold and alone when a perfectly furry mountaineer was handy in the tent next to hers.

  “I didn’t want Ben making googly eyes at Bree and annoying her,” River replied with a yawn. “She told me she’s not interested in romantic encounters with someone who hasn’t bathed in over a week.”

  Easton’s lips curved against her ear. “But you are?”

  “Mmm. I’m considering it.”

  His hand was warm despite the cold, thin air, and his body was even warmer. The sheer amount of heat this man radiated made her want to plaster herself all over him. And maybe she wasn’t at her best, but the way he was looking at her made River want to plaster herself all over him for far less practical reasons.

  Easton brushed his thumb over her side in wordless question, a small, welcome touch that she pressed into. Taking her response as the consent it was, he ran his hand along her side, then up her back in a slow, soothing motion that made her instinctively arch into him. Then he rested his palm on her hip, anchoring her in place as he shifted.

  The sleeping pad was soft against her shoulder blades, the ground beneath it freezing cold. But when she wrapped her arm around Easton’s neck, drawing him down to her, it was the warmest she’d been since she’d stuffed her toes in his armpit and admitted whatever this was, it was important enough not to let it slip away.

  Brushing his lips against hers, River could tell he was being careful, his weight propped up on one elbow so he didn’t squish her.