Page 10 of My Tempting Mountain Man (Summer In The Pines #2)

Liam

I meant every word when I told Everly I never wanted her to leave. Yet, as soon as she whispered those words back—that she didn't want to leave either—a crushing weight settled in my chest, pressing hard on my heart.

Guilt.

I'm a selfish prick, pulling her into my isolated existence without considering everything she might be giving up. She's young and bright, and I’m… me. Damaged, complicated, and carrying scars she shouldn't have to bear.

I don't even know if she's got a career waiting for her back in the city. Or college classes. Friends, family—people who'd miss her terribly. Would they blame me if she chose to stay? They’d have every right to.

Love.

It's terrifying, how certain I am of that feeling.

I love her deeply, intensely, in a way I didn't think was possible.

But loving her means protecting her, even from myself.

She deserves a life far beyond this remote cabin, more than what I could ever offer.

I have to let her go, even if it breaks me.

Shaking my head to clear away the dark thoughts, I pad into the bathroom, grabbing a clean washcloth and dampening it with warm water. Returning quietly, I kneel beside her, gently wiping her skin. Her eyes flutter open slowly, gaze soft and trusting.

"Hey," she murmurs, her voice warm and sleep-filled. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I reply softly, forcing a gentle smile. "We should probably get dressed. Storm might've done some damage outside."

She sits up slowly, rubbing her eyes adorably. "Okay."

After we both dress quickly, we head outside. The morning air is crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. Sunlight filters softly through the trees, illuminating the aftermath of the storm.

"Wow," Everly breathes beside me, eyes wide as she takes in the scattered branches and leaves littering the yard. "It looks worse out here than I expected."

"Storms can be pretty rough up here," I say, scanning the surroundings carefully. My heart sinks when I notice several large trees downed near the back of the property. "We better check out the back. Stay close."

She nods, slipping her hand into mine naturally, trustingly. My chest tightens again, but I grip her hand firmly, leading her carefully over the uneven ground.

We reach the fallen trees, massive trunks sprawled chaotically across the yard, branches splintered and twisted. Everly squeezes my hand gently. "What can I do to help?"

"Just stay safe," I say firmly, placing a protective hand on her lower back as I guide her to stand clear. "Let me handle the heavy stuff."

She smiles softly, rolling her eyes. "I can handle myself, Liam. I'm not made of porcelain."

"Maybe not," I concede reluctantly, meeting her playful gaze. "But humor me, okay?"

"Fine," she agrees, amusement sparkling in her eyes as she steps aside. "But only because you asked nicely."

I grin slightly, shaking my head, and turn to the first tree.

Muscles strain and tighten as I heave the heavy limbs, dragging them aside to clear a path.

Everly helps by moving smaller branches, carefully stacking them neatly.

Each time she bends or stretches, my heart skips, distracted by her graceful movements.

After an hour, sweat beads on my forehead, my shirt damp and clinging to my back. I glance over to find Everly watching me, cheeks flushed prettily, eyes darkened with an intensity that makes my pulse race.

"Enjoying the view?" I tease gruffly, wiping sweat from my brow.

She blushes harder, but doesn't look away. "Maybe a little."

"Good," I chuckle softly, chest warming at her honesty. "That's fair, considering I've been enjoying mine."

Her blush deepens even more, but she laughs, stepping closer. Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "Guess we should clean up out here more often."

"If you're the reward, I'm up for it," I say softly, reaching out to brush dirt from her cheek. She leans into my touch, eyes fluttering closed briefly.

“I wish we could stay like this,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion.

“Me too,” I admit hoarsely. “But there’s so much more out there for you.”

“I have everything I need right here,” she insists quietly, eyes shining fiercely.

I swallow hard, chest aching again. "Let's finish up here, then we'll talk."

She nods reluctantly, understanding clear in her eyes. We return to work, quiet now, the playful banter replaced by thoughtful silence. My mind races, grappling with what comes next.

As we finally finish clearing the debris, Everly moves to my side, slipping her hand back into mine.

"You okay?" she asks gently, eyes searching my face.

"I am now," I reply softly, squeezing her hand reassuringly, even as uncertainty gnaws at me. For now, I'll cherish this stolen moment, knowing deep down that soon I'll need to face the hardest decision of my life.

We head inside, boots muddy and clothes damp from lingering moisture in the air. I set the fire roaring again, warmth quickly spreading through the cabin. Everly heads toward the bathroom, glancing back at me with a small smile.

"Shower sounds pretty perfect right now," she says.

"Yeah," I murmur, eyes tracing the curve of her back as she disappears inside.

Moments later, I follow her in. The room fills quickly with steam as I twist the knob on the shower, hot water gushing from the spout.

Without a word, I reach for the hem of her shirt and slowly lift it over her head, baring her soft skin to my gaze.

My breath catches as I take her in—every line, every dip, every curve.

Reverence isn’t strong enough for what I feel.

I undress her slowly, letting my fingers graze her skin, memorizing her the way I memorize mountain trails—like I plan to return to this map over and over again.

She's still, watching me with eyes that hold more trust than I deserve.

I want to tell her I love her. I want to say it right now.

But the words lock in my throat, heavy with the weight of all the reasons I shouldn't say them.

She steps toward me then, hands moving to the hem of my shirt, helping me undress with the same quiet care.

Her touch is gentle, but it brands me. When we're both bare, I take her hand and lead her under the stream.

The hot water hits my back, cascading down tense muscles and instantly relaxing me.

Her body presses lightly to mine, warm and perfect.

We stand like that for a while, steam curling around us, her head resting on my chest. I wrap my arms around her and hold on like this is the only thing anchoring me to this world.

I may not be brave enough to say it yet, but I hope she can feel it in the way I hold her.

In the way I need her.

In the way I’m already hers.