Page 8 of Beneath the Mountain Sky (McBride Brother Lumberjacks #1)
She steps in on unsteady feet, my hand still at her hip, keeping her secure.
Her eyes scan the interior of the cabin, from the kitchen with the small table that seats four to the right, and over to the stone fireplace, leather couch facing it, and the old recliner to the side, then to the bookcases that line the far left wall that I haven’t touched since she left.
She glances at me, brows raised. “You haven’t changed anything.”
I offer a shrug. “I liked it how it was.”
The thought of changing anything, erasing any of the memories she and I shared here, was too painful for me.
I’d rather have them.
I’d rather let them haunt me because at least I’d have her in some form, even if it was as a ghost.
She steps in farther, slipping from my hold, wandering to the couch, and resting her hands along the plush leather back. Her gaze remains locked on the fireplace and the space in front of it where we spent so much time—sitting, talking, reading, fucking…
The silence that fills the space between us makes me shift uneasily on my feet.
It was never like this before.
Tense .
It was always just easy.
Before that day…
I clear my throat, needing to break the tension that starts to feel suffocating. “Raven will be here soon.”
She peers over her shoulder at me but doesn’t say anything.
“Liam brought over the bag of clothes and other things she dropped off. They’re in the bathroom.”
Willow finally seems to snap out of whatever haze she’s in. “Oh. Tell him thank you.”
I give her a tight smile. “I will. You need to rest, but I thought maybe you might like to take a bath first.”
Her eyes brighten, her lips curling slightly into the first genuine joy I’ve seen on her face since she woke up. “You remembered…”
I can’t fight the grin that pulls at my own mouth. “How could I forget?”
Almost every single night for five damn years, she sank into that tub with bubbles practically overflowing. And the nights that I would climb in with her are some of my favorite memories, and the most painful ones because they were when we were at our happiest.
Before I fucked everything up beyond repair.
The look Willow is giving me tells me she’s remembering exactly the same thing I am—without the pain of the year-long absence of it.
I tear my eyes from hers and glance toward the bathroom. “I checked with the doctor and confirmed it’s fine, as long as we don’t get your stitches wet, and I still have some of your bubble baths under the sink. I’ll go run it for you.”
Then get the fuck out of here as soon as Raven arrives.
Not only will imagining Willow in there be far too much for me to bear, but I need to be boots on the ground looking for any explanation for the madness we’ve found ourselves in the center of.
There are still enough hours of daylight to meet Tony and hike up to the river where I found her, to search more than he was able to himself with the minimal resources of our tiny sheriff’s department.
I start to walk past her, but she reaches out and grabs my wrist, stopping my advance.
Her small, warm fingers curl tightly around me, and every fucking nerve in my body flares to life at the simple contact. “Thank you.”
My gut twists. “Please stop doing that.”
Her brow furrows, pulling at the cut above her eye. “Doing what?”
Looking at me like I’m a man who deserves to be looked at that way.
Looking at me like I’m a man who didn’t destroy you.
Looking at me like I’m the only one you want.
“Thanking me.”
Her lips part slightly, and a surprised half-breath floats from them. “You saved my life?—”
That familiar anger I’ve felt since I found her flares in my blood again. “I didn’t. Not really. Because if you hadn’t left, you wouldn’t be in this position. Whatever got you back here, whatever put you in that river, it never would have happened if I hadn’t destroyed everything we had.”
Her gaze softens. “What did happen, Killian? I’ve tried, but I just…” Her hand tightens on my wrist, and that same little electrical charge that I’ve always felt when our bodies connect surges through me. “I can’t remember.”
“Maybe it’s because you don’t want to. I sure as hell wish I could forget it.”
An agony far worse than anything she’s suffered physically flashes across her steely gaze. “You want to forget me?”
Fuck .
“God no…” I tug out of her hold, rubbing my hands over my beard.
“That’s the last thing I want.” Holding her gaze while I say this feels like falling down a hole I won’t ever be able to claw my way out of.
“I’ve spent every day since you’ve been gone thinking about you and wishing I could take it back. ”
Tears pool in her eyes. “But you’re not going to tell me what happened?”
I clench my jaw, fighting the desire to just say, “no,” like I want to. “Later. When you’re feeling better.”
I stalk to the bathroom, knowing full well that’s a conversation I will put off as long as possible.
Forever, if I had my way.
I have her back.
It may not be how I wanted it, but it’s a second chance.
An opportunity to fix things.
And maybe, just maybe, save what I lost.
* * *
WILLOW
The sound of the running water draws me toward the bathroom even though Killian’s tense parting words should act as a warning to stay away and give him some space.
I’ve never been particularly good at that.
It’s one of the reasons he and I ended up together in the first place.
People always gave him a wide berth, hoping to avoid being snapped at. He always preferred to spend his time alone—in the woods with his axe. Felling trees was his outlet for the tension he always seemed to carry with him, the weight that seemed to rest on his shoulders, even when we were younger.
But I was never scared of Killian McBride.
And for some reason, he never barked at me the way he did others.
Maybe it was because I hung around the property so much when I was younger and saw him grow into the man he became. Because I knew that Connie could never raise a son who didn’t have a good heart, despite what he might portray to the outside world.
I slowly pad toward the familiar scent of my favorite lavender and honey bubble bath and find Killian sitting on the edge of the huge cast-iron tub, running his hand through the water to encourage the bubbles to build higher—just the way I like them.
He remembered.
It shouldn’t matter so much, but the way my heart skips a beat when his eyes move from the tub up to mine tells me that whatever happened in the past year hasn’t changed the way I feel about this man one bit.
Even if I can’t remember it, my heart remembers him.
I step in cautiously, unsure how to even approach this man when I used to so easily run into his arms. Run my fingers through his hair. Trail them across his rippling muscles and inked skin.
He rises to his feet, wiping his hand on a towel as he assesses me. His eyes move over my face—from the bruise on my cheek to the bandage over my eyebrow. Then his gaze dips to my torso, zeroing in on my ribs.
Killian shifts uneasily, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck as he glances away. “Can you…uh…get undressed by yourself?”
Almost as if in response, my ribs throb, and the thought of trying to unbutton this shirt, get it off my arms, and then bend down to remove the sweatpants I came home from the hospital in is enough to make me wince.
I could barely tolerate it with the assistance of the nurse at the hospital.
Alone, there’s no way the pain won’t be unbearable, even with the meds Killian made sure I took before the drive home.
His lips twist into a scowl. “That’s what I thought…”
He steps up to me, keeping his gaze locked with mine as he slowly drags his fingers over the top button of my shirt, popping it free.
My breath hitches, and he goes absolutely stock still.
His hands hover over the next one, then he clears his throat and resumes making his way down the row until the material splits, exposing my breasts in the bra Raven brought me—along with all the bruises and scratches covering my torso.
His jaw tenses.
A muscle there tics wildly, matching the tempo of my racing heart.
His hands tremble as he carefully brushes the fabric over my shoulders and down my arms, tugging it free from one side, then the other. It flutters to the floor, along with any ability I might have had to appear unaffected by this.
My knees shake as hard as his hands do.
Killian’s fingertips slowly graze the waistband of my sweatpants, but he keeps his eyes locked on mine, never once looking down—giving me that little bit of privacy, even if he’s seen me more naked than this thousands of times.
The last time he undressed me, it was fast and frantic, and he had me bent over the back of the couch, pounding into me without reservation or restraint within sixty seconds of us walking through that door.
This man is different.
Whatever happened between us has left him unsure—something Killian McBride has never been a day in his life.
He draws in a slow breath, as if it’s a struggle for him to suck in air with the tension permeating it, and it reminds me that I’ve been holding mine. I follow his lead, inhaling long, slow, and deliberate breaths, which only succeeds in making my ribs ache even more.
There is no way I would have been able to get out of these clothes and into that inviting hot water without excruciating pain if I had attempted it on my own.
Killian always knew what I needed and gave it to me.
And it seems that hasn’t changed.
But it did.
Because I left him…
Yet, he’s still here. Doing this. For me.
After sleeping at my bedside all night in an uncomfortable plastic hospital chair, refusing to move to the more comfortable one in the corner. Wanting to be near in case I woke and needed him.
He slips around my side, running his rough palm across my stomach and hip. His warm breath flutters the hair on my neck as he settles behind me. “Can you do your bra and panties yourself?”