Page 33 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas (Hollow Haven #2)
The casual comment made my heart skip in a way that was probably ridiculous, but she said it with such warmth that I found myself grinning like an idiot.
"Can't do serious photography work without proper hydration," I said, pouring her a cup in one of the metal camping mugs I'd brought.
We ate in comfortable silence for a while, looking out over the valley spread below us. The sun had climbed higher, burning off the morning mist and revealing the full scope of the landscape. It was the kind of view that made you understand why people fought to protect wild places.
"I can see why you love this work," Willa said eventually. "Being up here, seeing all of this... it puts everything else in perspective."
"That's exactly it. Sometimes I get so caught up in the data and the politics that I forget why it matters. Coming up here reminds me."
"How long have you been doing conservation work?"
"Eight years professionally. But I've been interested in it since I was a kid.
" I took a sip of spiced cider, gathering courage to share something I didn't talk about often.
"My dad used to take me hiking when I was young.
He taught me to identify bird calls, track animals, understand ecosystems. It was the only time we really connected. "
"Past tense?"
"He died when I was in college. Heart attack." The old grief was still there, but softer now. "I think he would have liked knowing I made this my life's work."
"I'm sure he would have been proud."
"He always said the best way to understand something was to protect it. That you can't really love something unless you're willing to fight for it."
She was quiet for a moment, and I wondered if I'd shared too much. But when she spoke, there was something in her voice that made my chest tight.
"Is that what you're doing? Fighting for what you love?"
The question hung between us, loaded with more meaning than just conservation work. I looked at her sitting there in the morning light, beautiful and talented and slowly healing from wounds someone else had inflicted, and realized that yes, that's exactly what I was doing.
"I'm trying to," I said quietly.
"Thank you for bringing me here," Willa said eventually. "I haven't felt this inspired in months. Maybe years."
"Thank you for seeing it the way I do."
She turned to look at me, something shifting in her expression. "You love this work, don't you? Really love it."
"More than anything." The admission came out easily, surprising me. "Sometimes I think I understand wildlife better than I understand people."
"I don't think that's true. You understood what I needed today before I even knew it myself."
There was something in her voice, something soft and wondering, that made me brave enough to say what I'd been thinking all morning.
"I wanted to share this with you. These places, this work. It matters to me, and I wanted it to matter to you too."
"It does matter to me. All of it." She was quiet for a moment, studying my face like she was trying to read something there.
The way she was looking at me made my chest tight with an emotion I wasn't sure I was ready to name.
I'd spent so many years focused on conservation work, on protecting things that couldn't protect themselves, that I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to want to protect a person, to want to claim them.
"Willa," I said, my voice rougher than intended. "I need to tell you something."
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't pull away. "What?"
I turned to face her fully, taking in the way the mountain light caught in her hair, the genuine trust in her expression. "This… today, you being here with me… it means everything. You mean everything."
Her breath caught. "Wes…"
"I know this is complicated," I continued, needing to get the words out before I lost my nerve. "With Rhett and Elias and whatever is happening between all of us. But I need you to know that what I feel for you isn't something I can ignore or push aside."
She was staring at me with something that looked like wonder. "What do you feel for me?"
"Like you see the real me. Not just the guy who's obsessed with wildlife conservation, not just someone who prefers animals to people, but the man I actually am.
" I reached out and cupped her face gently.
"And I see you too, sweetheart. Not the omega you think you're supposed to be, not the artist you used to be, but the incredible woman you're becoming.
I know Sterling hurt you. Made you doubt yourself.
But I want you to hear me when I say you could never disappoint me, sweetheart.
You're everything I didn't know I was looking for. "
Tears gathered in her eyes, but she was smiling. "I was terrified to come here today. Not because of the hiking, but because I was afraid I'd disappoint you."
"Impossible," I said firmly, my thumb brushing across her cheek. "You are the most fascinating person I've ever met. Sterling was an idiot who couldn't see what he had."
"I don't want to hide anymore," she whispered.
"Then don't." My voice came out lower, more intense than I'd intended. "Be exactly who you are, Willa. With me, with everyone. The world needs to see this woman I'm falling for."
Her eyes widened at my words, and I could scent the shift in her emotions. Surprise, pleasure, want.
"You're falling for me?" she breathed.
"Hard and fast," I admitted, leaning closer until I could feel her breath on my lips. "And I'm going to kiss you now, because I can't wait another second to show you how I feel."
The soft whimper that escaped her was all the permission I needed. I kissed her slowly, thoroughly, claiming her mouth like I wanted to claim all of her. She melted against me, her hands fisting in my shirt as she kissed me back with a sweetness that made my heart race.
When we broke apart, she looked dazed and beautiful and completely mine in that moment.
"That was..." she breathed.
"Perfect," I finished, resting my forehead against hers. "You're perfect."
We stayed like that for a long moment, breathing the same air, neither of us wanting to break the spell of what had just happened between us. The mountain was quiet around us except for the distant call of a hawk and the whisper of wind through the pines.
"I could stay here forever," she murmured against my lips.
"So could I," I said, meaning it completely. "But we should probably head back before it gets too late."
She nodded reluctantly, and I helped her to her feet, not quite ready to stop touching her. Her hand felt perfect in mine as we began gathering our things.
"I'm really glad you asked me out here," she said as she carefully packed her camera equipment.
"I'm really glad you said yes." I shouldered my pack, watching the way she moved with new awareness, like every gesture was something precious I wanted to memorize.
We packed up slowly, neither of us eager to end the day.
The hike back was easier, all downhill and comfortable conversation about photography and conservation and a dozen other topics that flowed naturally between us.
But now there was an underlying current of awareness, of new intimacy, that made even casual touches feel electric.
"This was perfect," she said as I drove her home in the late afternoon light. "Thank you for such a wonderful day."
"Thank you for making it wonderful."
As I walked her to her door, I was already thinking about our next adventure together. Maybe the wetlands preserve where the migratory birds were just starting to arrive, or the old growth forest where I'd been documenting the recovery of native species.
"I had the best time," she said, turning to face me on her front porch.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And Wes?"
"What?"
"Thank you for fighting for what you love. For protecting places like this so people like me can find themselves there."
Before I could respond, she kissed me again, soft and lingering and full of promise.
"See you soon?" she asked.
"Definitely."
I stood on her porch for a moment after she went inside, grinning like an idiot and already planning our next outing.
For someone who supposedly understood wildlife better than people, I was starting to think I might be getting the hang of this romance thing after all.