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We talk about everything but the mountain-sized elephant in the room as we eat. She tells me about her shifts at the hospital, and about the latest town gossip she learned from eavesdropping at the restaurant while Old Lady Harrison and Old Lady Holden had lunch.

I fill her in on our time away and how Mom was all nostalgic about us ‘leavin’ home’—even if we’ve all been gone for over a decade now.

There’s no missing the tension building between us, and it’s not just my growing need to be as close as I possibly can with her. It’s knowing about the conversation we need to have— should have.

“So…” I say, holding my glass in my hand. “We should toast to somethin’? What should we toast to?”

“Us? The ranch? The Call?” she says, not looking away from me. My lips part in surprise before I settle on something even more important than the mountain spirit’s antics.

“You,” I say. Her gaze widens before softening.

Isla lifts her glass, a smile playing on her lips. “To me?”

“To you. The woman who changed my life in ways I never thought possible. Who I never imagined seein’ again but desperately hoped that somehow, the universe would lead us to cross paths again.

The only one who makes my pulse race, my soul happy, and my body burn.

I love you, Isla Murray. You are and always will be the greatest love of my life. ”

Tears shimmer in her eyes. “Case…” she says. “I love you too. So much.”

I get up and move around the table, bending down to cradle her cheeks in my hands. I kiss her soft and slow, making sure I pour everything into our connection so she can feel the truth in my words.

By the time we pull apart, our breathing is labored and I sense her reluctance to move away is as strong as my own.

I step back and hold my hand out for hers. When I try to lead her over to the sofa so we can talk, she surprises me and tugs my arm toward the hallway.

“We need to talk,” I say weakly, every single cell in my body completely under her control.

Her lips curve to the side. “There are many ways to communicate, curious.”

Once we cross over the threshold of my bedroom door, I shut us in and lean back against it, letting my eyes roam over her from head to toe. My pulse is racing, and my brain is focused on her and only her.

This could be the moment I make her mine, when we’ll complete the Call and be bonded forever. But something gives me pause. The need to know whether she believes in the family lore winning out over my lust for a second.

“Beautiful, I?—”

“Case…” Her voice is low and rough as she presses her body to mine. “I have somethin’ to tell you.”

“Anythin’,” I say, anchoring my hands on her hips. Her gaze bores into mine, and despite being able to read her, this time there’s too much there. It’s the same look I caught earlier. “Whatever it is, it’s OK.”

Her breath catches as she glides her hands up to rest over my racing heart. “I know that. I think I always have. Wanna know how?

Something about her soft, gentle, almost playful expression has my lips twitching. “How?”

“I have always felt safe with you, Case Cooper, and I know I always will be.” Damn, that feels good to hear . Before I can answer, she continues. “And I’ve also read our book.”

“Our book?” I ask, jerking my head against the door.

A slow-growing smile curves her lips. “Yeah.” She lifts a finger to trace the furrowed lines of my forehead, running it down between my brows and along my nose.

“I read the book you gave me while you were away, and two more after that. I probably would’ve kept on with that series—the one with a cop and a pet bear–but I had to work.

” I nod, my throat suddenly so dry I can’t speak.

Everything is pointing to good things— very good things judging by the way she’s melding her body to mine. I need more though. “OK…”

“Then I had dinner with Mom and B, and she’d brought a package with her that was delivered to the ranch addressed to me.”

I ask the first question that comes to my mind. “What was in it?”

“A book, and a letter. And wouldn’t you know it,” she drags her finger down to my mouth and trails the outline of my top lip.

It’s taking every ounce of control I have not to flip her around and switch our positions.

As it stands, I’m already hardening against her stomach.

There’s no way she can’t feel what she’s doing to me.

“Hmm?” I hum as I struggle to focus on her words and not on the way her body fits perfectly to mine. That’s because she belongs there.

She taps against my chin, grabbing my attention. “You’ll want to hear this, Case.” Her eyes are hooded and full of amusement. They’re also full of heat which makes it even harder to concentrate.

My hands roam of their own accord, exploring everywhere I can reach, memorizing her body. “Might be easier if I didn’t have the woman I love,” I tilt my head and brush my lips against the hinge of her jaw, “distractin’ me.”

When she speaks again, she does it with a breathy moan. “Case…”

“I’m right here, beautiful.”

“The letter…” I drag my mouth down to the silky-smooth skin of her throat, “was from Aster.”

I freeze just as I'm about to kiss the sensitive spot just below her ear. Slowly I straighten so we’re eye to eye. “ What? ”

“She wanted me to read her next story— our story. What she’d written so far, anyway.

And Case?” She cradles my jaw in her hands.

“Our journey has been beautiful, honest, real . But most of all,” her voice cracks and her eyes shimmer with emotion, “it has proven to me that I was always meant to be yours and that you were destined to come back to the mountain. For me .”

My lips slowly rise. “I’ve known that for a while, beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes as a small laugh escapes her. “Some of us don’t believe in fairytales so easily. Not when life proves that they don’t always come true.”

I snake my hand up between us until my palm is resting on her cheek. “I didn’t till I met you.”

“And I wouldn’t believe in the Call if it wasn’t for you,” she whispers. “I want to keep writin’ our story, Case. Together,” she says, and I realize my heart is racing so fast I fear it might explode.”

“You are my reward, Isla Murray,” I say, leaning my forehead against hers and breathing her in, wondering if there could ever be a more important, more pivotal, more fulfilling moment than this one right here, right now.

“Funny, because I was about to say I think you’re mine.”

I snort. “Well, you’re wrong. But that’s OK. I’ll let you–”

She slams her mouth to mine, swallowing whatever else I was going to say. I don’t remember what because the minute she kisses me again, my mind is wiped of everything but her.

My beautiful stranger. My anchor. My One.

As it was always meant to be.