Page 7

BLAZE

I wake with a crick in my neck and a cold draft snaking up my spine. The floor of the cabin, while technically flat, feels like I've spent the night on a bed of pinecones. My back protests as I shift, blinking still semi dark from the rain that is still coming down.

That's when I notice Grace is already awake. She's propped up on one elbow in bed, watching me with an unreadable expression. Her hair is tousled from sleep, catching the golden light in a way that makes my breath catch.

"Morning," I croak, my voice rough with sleep.

"Morning," she replies, her voice softer than I've ever heard it.

We both know what almost happened last night. The almost-kiss hangs between us like a physical thing, charged and undeniable.

"Next time, remind me to fight harder for the bed," I say, attempting to stretch the stiffness from my limbs.

The corner of her mouth lifts in a small, secretive smile. "Next time, you don't need to."

My heart does a strange little flip in my chest. I clear my throat and push myself to sit, pretending her words didn't just send my pulse racing.

"Coffee?" I ask, already moving toward the remnants of last night's fire.

"Please," she says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

I busy myself with rekindling the fire and making some of the instant coffee I found in the cabinet last night.

It's not great, but it's caffeine, and right now that feels essential.

When I turn around with two steaming mugs, Grace has moved to the small table, wrapped in a blanket against the morning chill.

"Thanks," she says, accepting the mug. Our fingers brush, and neither of us pretends not to notice.

We sip in silence for a moment before Grace speaks again.

"I'm sorry about last night," she says. "Not for... you know. But for shutting down. It's just--" She stares into her coffee like it might contain the words she's looking for.

"You don't need to explain," I tell her.

"I do, though." She takes a deep breath.

"Since my brother died, it's been lonely.

Not just the normal kind of lonely, but the kind where you're surrounded by people who need you to be strong, to have answers, to keep everything from falling apart.

" She looks up at me. "Everyone wants a piece of me, but no one sees how hard it is to keep giving when you're running on empty. "

The raw honesty in her voice hits me like a physical blow. I recognize that emptiness she's describing. I've felt it for years.

"I get that," I say quietly. "Everyone wanted a piece of Blaze. No one cared about Blake Nelson."

Her eyes widen slightly at my real name, and I realize this is the first time I've said it aloud since arriving in Mustang Mountain.

"Blake," she repeats, testing it out.

"That's me. The real me, underneath all the bullshit." I gesture vaguely at myself. "The guy who grew up with nothing, who built himself into something, and then watched as everyone took what they wanted until there wasn't much left and I didn't care about any of it."

"I care," she says simply.

Two words. Just two words, but they land with the weight of a thousand. I stare at her, searching for any sign she's just saying what she thinks I want to hear. But all I see is honesty, and something else, something warm and dangerous and inviting.

"Grace--" I start, not sure what I'm going to say.

She reaches across the table and places her hand over mine. Her palm is warm from the coffee mug, her touch light but deliberate. I turn my hand over, our palms meeting, fingers intertwining.

Neither of us speaks. We don't need to. Everything that matters is in the way she looks at me, in the slight tremble of her fingers against mine, in the way she leans forward just a fraction.

This time, when our lips meet, there's no hesitation.

No pulling back. Just a soft, questioning touch that quickly deepens into something more urgent, more necessary.

We turn toward each other, and in the blink of an eye, she is climbing into my lap, the blanket falling forgotten to the floor as she presses against me.

"Are you sure?" I murmur against her lips.

“I made myself a promise when my brother died that I’d live with no regrets. I’ve regretted it all night that I didn’t kiss you. The more I thought about it, the more turned on I got,” she whispers against my lips before she kisses me harder.

Her hands slide into my hair, holding me to her like she's afraid I might disappear if she lets go. When she rocks her hips against mine, I groan, holding her tight.

Standing, I move us toward the bed and lay her down.

As I lower Grace onto the bed, every sense heightens. The cabin, once cold and drafty, now feels warm and intimate.

As we shed the last pieces of clothing it’s like a layer of armor discarded, revealing not just skin, but the scars and stories beneath.

Grace's fingers trace the faded tattoo on my shoulder, a remnant of a past life.

I can see the questions in her eyes, but she doesn't ask.

Instead, she leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the ink, accepting it. Accepting me without words.

I explore her body with an attention to detail that I didn't know I possessed.

Each curve, each line, is a testament to her strength and resilience.

She's real, and perfect for me which is so much better.

Her breath hitches as I run my fingers along her side, finding a ticklish spot.

She squirms, laughing softly, and the sound is more beautiful than any music I've ever played.

"Ticklish?" I murmur, grinning.

"Don't," she warns, but her eyes are sparkling with amusement.

I lean down, replacing my fingers with my lips, kissing the spot gently. "Wouldn't dream of it," I say against her skin, feeling her shiver.

This isn't just sex. It's not a quick fix or a mindless release.

It's a conversation, a give and take, a silent confession of need and desire.

When she looks at me, her eyes hold a universe of emotion: fear, hope, and longing.

I want to be the man who deserves that look, who can hold her fears gently and turn her hopes into reality.

I reach for my wallet and pull out a condom, quickly rolling it on before I'm back over her.

As I lower myself onto the bed, covering Grace's body with mine, I feel a shiver run through her that has nothing to do with the cold.

Her eyes meet mine, wide and vulnerable, and I can see the fears and hopes warring within her.

I want to chase away the fears and magnify the hopes.

I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, then her cheek, and then the corner of her mouth.

"Blake," she whispers, her voice barely audible as I line my cock up at her entrance.

The sound of my real name on her lips sends a thrill through me.

It's been so long since anyone has called me that, since anyone has looked at me like this.

Like I matter. Like I'm more than just a means to an end.

Her hands are in my hair, on my back, pulling me closer. Her legs wrap around my hips, urging me on. But I don't rush. I can't. This is too important. She is too important. I want to savor every moment, to commit every detail to memory.

When I finally enter her, it's with a slow, deliberate movement. Her breath catches, her nails dig into my shoulders, and her eyes never leave mine. It's intense, overwhelming, and perfect. Each thrust feels so damn good I know I won't last long.I reach between us to rub her clit.

"Come for me, baby. You feel so damn good I'm not going to last long," I plead.

Her heels dig into my ass as her hips meet me thrust for thrust. The pressure builds in my balls as I try to hold out for her to go over the edge first. Thankfully, a few more thrusts and she clamps down on my cock with my name on her lips.

I’m grateful no one is around because I sure do love hearing her yell my name.

My orgasm is one of the strongest I've ever felt. I lie there with my face buried in her neck, trying to catch my breath. Once my heart has stopped racing, I get up and remove the condom and clean myself up. Then I get a washcloth and warm water to clean Grace up.

"You don't have to do that," she says.

"I know," is all I say.

As I finish cleaning Grace, I can't help but feel a sense of intimacy that goes beyond the physical.

She looks up at me with an expression that's hard to read, but it’s easy to see the wheels turning in her mind.

I toss the washcloth aside and climb back into bed with her, pulling her close.

Her head rests on my chest, and I can feel her breathing slowly return to normal.

As we lay there, my fingers trace lazy patterns on her bare shoulder. The storm outside has passed, leaving behind a pristine silence broken only by our breathing and the occasional pop from the dying fire.

"What are you thinking?" I ask, my voice hushed in the quiet room.

She's quiet for so long, I think she might not answer. Then, "I'm thinking that I want to trust this. Trust you."

"But?" I prompt, hearing the unspoken hesitation.

"But I've been burned before." She props herself up on one elbow to look at me, her eyes serious. "Not just romantically. By life. By people who meant well but left, anyway."

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against her cheek. "I don't want this to be temporary," I tell her. "Not this. Not you."

"Then prove it," she says, her voice both challenge and plea. "Because I can't survive another person walking away."

The weight of her words settles over me. I've never been good at staying. I've always been the one looking for the exit, planning my next move. But looking at her now, I can't imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

"I will," I promise, and I've never meant anything more.

She kisses me again, and we lose ourselves in each other once more, the outside world forgotten for a little while longer.

Eventually, though, reality intrudes. The sun is high now and the storm has passed. We need to get back to town.

"Ready to face civilization again?" I ask as we dress.

"Are you?" she counters with a small smile.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

We gather our things and step outside into the brilliant post-storm sunlight. The sun glistens off the water left by the rain, giving everything a little sparkle. The ground is all mud. No sooner have I stepped out of the door of the cabin than I come face to face with a massive grey wolf.

"Shit, get back in the cabin," I tell Grace while backing up through the door. I try to push her back inside without taking my eyes off the wolf that is still sitting and watching me.

"What? Why?” she asks, trying to push around me.

"Wolf," is all I say before she pushes through the door. Even though I try to reach for her arm, I can’t because Grace is too fast.

She walks right up to the wolf and starts petting it like she's Cinder-fucking-ella as I stay frozen in the doorway.

"This is Hades. He’s become a town pet. Jackson found him abandoned as a pup and raised him. He's wild but friendly, and he has helped wherever he can. He fell in love with one of Mack's sled dogs, and they had puppies, so there are some half-wolf pups people have as pets around town, too."

I stare at her petting this wolf like he's a dog. He rubs his head against her and closes his eyes as she starts talking to him.

"I don't know how you knew we were here, but I'm glad you did. If you come back to my truck with us, I have some snacks there for you," she says. Then she looks up at me. "Come pet him. I promise he's friendly."

Walking over, I tentatively reach out to pet Hades.

The massive wolf leans into my touch, his fur surprisingly soft under my fingers.

I glance at Grace, who smiles encouragingly.

This woman constantly surprises me, and her comfort with this wild creature only adds to her allure.

The tension I felt moments ago dissipates, replaced by a warmth that spreads through me as Hades accepts my touch.

"See, he's friendly," Grace says, her voice soft but confident. She scratches behind Hades's ears, and the wolf closes his eyes in contentment. I can't help but feel a sense of peace wash over me, a stark contrast to the usual chaos of my life.

We spend a few more moments with Hades before heading back to the truck, Hades leading the way. The walk back to the truck is companionable, with our hands occasionally brushing, and small smiles exchanged. It feels like we're sharing a secret, which I suppose we are.

The truck starts, and with the rain done, the fallen trees are a bit easier to move. We limp back toward Mustang Mountain after saying goodbye to Hades and giving him his promised snack. As we approach town, Grace grows quieter, more composed. I can almost see her putting her mask back on.

"People will talk," she says as we pull onto Main Street.

"Let them," I reply with a shrug. "Unless... do you want to keep this quiet?"

She considers this. "I don't want to hide, but I don't want to make a spectacle either. This is still new. Still ours."

I nod, understanding. "I'll follow your lead, then."

The town is bustling when we arrive. Faces turn our way as we park at her house, and I can practically hear the gossip machine whirring to life. Overnight in a cabin during a rainstorm? Scandal!

"Well, I should go and get a shower and you should too," she says.

"I can be back in about an hour to help with deliveries,” I say.

"No deliveries today. I'm helping Ruby at the Merc so she can go to a doctor’s appointment and then I promised Olivia some girl time to catch up tonight. You have a free day." She smiles.

"I doubt it. Shane probably has a honey-do list for me at the ranch," I say with a small smile.

"Blaze Nelson, Cowboy has a nice ring to it," she jokes.

"Blake," I correct her quietly. "When it's just us, I'm Blake."

Her expression softens. "Blake," she agrees.

Leaning in, I give her a chaste kiss before pulling back and getting out of her truck. If I stay much longer, we will end up in her bed and I don't want her to think I'm only in this for sex.

I walk back to the truck Shane let me borrow that’s parked at the Merc, only a few blocks away. This amazing woman has somehow worked her way under my skin in a matter of weeks. Who has made me question everything I thought I knew about myself, and about what I want.

I'd come here ready to burn this place down. Now I'd burn it down to protect her.

The realization should terrify me. Instead, it feels like coming home.

I've finally found something worth staying for. I just pray I’mworth staying for, too.