TableofContents

Epilogue
AboutWildMan
Freya
Beau
AlsobySherileeGray
AbouttheAuthor
BREAKINGHIM

WILDMAN

THESMITHBROTHERS#2

SHERILEEGRAY

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CONTENTS

10.

11.

12.

13.

ABOUTWILDMAN

The first time I saw Beau Smith’s face, I fell for him…hard. There’s just a few tiny
problems.Heliveswild.I’veneverleftthecity.Hewantsawifewhocanhandlehisharsh
world.Ijustwanthim.

He’s been burnt in the past, and he won’t let me in easily, but there’s no denying

the spark between us, so intense it could set the woods on fire. And with every hot and
dirtynightwespendtogether,Icanfeelhiswallscrumbling.

ButonceherealizesI’mnotwhathesignedupfor,thatIliedtohimaboutwhoIam—

willhestillwantme,orwillIlosemywildmanforever?

Warning: The Smith Brothers are not just identical twins, they’re big, burly, bearded,
insanelyhotmountainmen.They’realsosweet,andvery,verydirty.DidImentiondirty?

FREYA

SEEKING

WIFE

Mycarhitanotherpothole,jarringmesohardmyshoulderhitthedriver’sdoor.

Igrittedmyteethandkeptgoing.

ThosethreewordshadjumpedoutatmewhenI’dloggedontoDateRealMen.comfor

thefirsttime.AndIhadn’tbeenabletoscrollpastthem.

Today I finally got to meet Beau face-to-face. Though meet seemed like the wrong

word.IfeltlikeIalreadyknewhim.

ThemanIspoketobackinEaglewoodsaidBeau’shousewouldtakeabouttwohours

toreach—takingtheoneandonlyroadthatledtoit—butcallingitaroadwasastretch;
thiswasmorelikeatrack.Amuddy,rutted,potholeytrack.

IgrippedthesteeringwheeltighterwhenIbouncedoveraparticularlyruttedsection,

cursingwhenthebottomofmycaractuallyconnectedwiththeground,makingahorrible
scraping sound. As excited as I was to see Beau, I was starting to think driving to his
housetosurprisehimwasn’tsuchahotideabecauserightthenIwasn’tsureI’dmakeit.

I could admit my decision to leave Denver yesterday, a week earlier than scheduled,

hadbeenalittlerash,butIhadn’tbeenabletakeitanothersecond.Everythinginmylife
was a disaster. I’d just been through the month from hell, in which anything and
everythingthatcouldgowrong,had.Someofthehighlights:mymotherjoininganudist
commune; my roommate, Sally, moving her prick of a boyfriend into our apartment
without my agreement; and coming home from a business trip to find Bruce, my pet
hamster,dead.

Andlastbutnotleast,I’dquitmyjobtwodaysago—inspectacularstyle.Therewas

no going back after the way I’d told my boss where he could stick it. So, I was also
unemployed.

Whichwasthecatalystformyminimeltdownandearlydeparturefromthecity.

I’djustwantedtoseeBeau.

Inperson.

Waiting another day hadn’t been an option. I wanted to finally feel his arms around

me,tohavehimholdme,comfortme,makeeverythingallright.Talkingviaemail,text,

andoccasionallyoverthephonewhenhewenttotownwasn’tenough.

Iwantedtotouchhim,knowthathewasrealandnotmyimagination.

WhenIsigneduptothedatingsite,I’djustcomebackfromashitasticdate.Another

self-absorbed metrosexual who spent more time and money on beauty products and
groomingthanIdid.Hedidn’tmakemyheartrace.Hedidn’tmakemehotandbothered
justlookingathim,andhedidn’tsaysweetthingsthatturnedmeintoagooeymess.

Beaudidallthosethings.

I’dneverbelievedinloveatfirstsight—howcouldIwhenI’dneverseenit,feltit?In

fact,Ididn’tknowmuchabouttheregularkindofloveeither.Myparentsdidn’tbelievein
showingemotionoraffection,ormaybetheyjustweren’tcapableofit.Oh,theyfakedit
when they had to, because like any child, I’d craved it from them. But then they’d turn
aroundandputconditionsonit,withholdittogetwhattheywanted.

Thatprettymuchsetmeupforfailureintherelationshipdepartment.

IknewBeauwasn’tthehealthiestchoiceforme,butI’dtakenonelookathisprofile

picture—God, stared deep into those intense blue eyes—and I’d felt it like a bolt of
lightning. The problem was Beau didn’t believe in love at all. He wasn’t looking for it,
didn’twantit.

Lovewasnevergoingtobeapartofthedeal.

Hetoldmethisattheendofourfirstconversation,butbythenIwasalreadyhooked,

completelyandutterly.Itriedtotellmyselftoendit,thatnothinggoodcouldcomefrom
this, but we just clicked. He started calling me whenever he could, and there was no
mistakingthathecaredforme.Helikedme.

Andyeah,Iknewitwasnaive,andwithhimIwasactinglikethatkiddesperatefor

love and affection all over again—affection that came with conditions I wasn’t sure I
couldmeet—butIcouldn’tmakemyselfendit.

So,thereIwas,bumpingandslidingalongadirttrack,goingafterthemanIlovedand

hopingthatbytheendofourtwoweekstogetherhe’drealizehelovedme,too.

We just needed to spend time together. Communication had been limited because,

obviously,therewasnocellserviceinthemountains.Andyes,Iwaswellawareofhow
suspiciousthatsounded.TherewerestorieslikethisonCatfishallthetime.Hecan’tvideo
chat because he doesn’t have a computer. Or, in my case, he had bad service. At first, I
wasskeptical,butthemorewetalked,themoreIwaspositivehewastherealdeal.

Beau had never once asked me for anything, only to be patient while he finished

buildinghishouse,sowecouldfinallymeet.

Idrewinasteadyingbreathandanotherwaveofnerveshitme.Somuchhingedon

thisfirstmeeting.Beauwasn’tlookingforahookup,andhedidn’twantalong-distance
relationship.He’dmadeitclearwhathewantedfromthestart.Hewaslookingforawife.
Awomanwhowantedthesamethingshedid.Whohadtheskillstoliveofftheland,in
thehousehebuiltwithhisowntwohandsinthemountains.Toraiseafamily.

I wanted all those things, and I wanted them with Beau. The fact I’d omitted a few

things, or more embellished, was not something I was comfortable with, but come on…
loveatfirstsight,remember?Imean,Icouldlearntofishandcookandsew.Itcouldn’tbe
thatdifficult.Butlove?Thatwasn’tsomethingIcouldjustwalkawayfrom.Igotthata
man in the wild needed in a wife with those skills, but surely being with his soul mate
trumpedallthat?

Abendintheroadappearedoutofnowhere.“Shit!”Istompedonthebrake.

The car didn’t slow. It kept moving, skidding in the mud. “Oh God, oh God, oh

God…” I yanked on the wheel, trying to get some kind of control. It didn’t work. I
screamed as it kept sliding. The car jolted and the wheels on the right side seemed to
disappearfromundermeasitdroppedintoaditch.Thecarmadeacrunchingsoundasit
hitabankthenrockedtoastop.

Isatthere,stillgrippingthesteeringwheel,stunned.

Something warm trickled down the side of my face and I reached up and wiped it

away.Myfingerscameawaywet.Blood.I’dcutmyhead.

Icouldn’topenmydoor,soIclimbedovertothepassengersideandshovedthedoor

open.

I stood there for a few seconds, trying not to completely freak out. It was 6:00 p.m.

andIwasthankingGoditwasn’tdarkyet.Igrabbedmyphoneandhopedlikehellthatby
somemiracletheremightbeservice.Ofcourse,therewasn’t.“Crap.”

Ilookedaround,andtherewas…nothing.Okay,notnothing.Thereweretrees,alotof

trees,andmountains,andIcouldhearwaterrunninginthedistancesomewhere.I’dbeen
drivingforabouttwohours,soIhadtoassumethatBeau’shousewasn’tfar.ButthenI
guessed that depended on the speed and skill of the driver. The man that told me the
distancewouldbeusedtotheroad,theterrain.Icouldstillbethirtyminutesawayfrom
hishouse,ormore.

Panicstartedtocrawlupmythroat.

Think,Freya.WhatwouldBearGryllsdo?

ThelastfewmonthsI’dbeenbinge-watchingManvs.Wildeveryweekendtoprepare

forthistrip.

Higherground!

MaybeifIgottoahighervantagepointI’dseesomethingandworkoutwhereIwas.

TherewasnowayIcouldcarryallmybags,soIgrabbedthesmallpackI’dbrought

forwhenwewenthikingorwhatever—somethingelseBearneverwentwithout—andput
myphone,handbag,drinkbottle,andachangeofclothesinit.

ThenIstartedupthenearesthill.

Itwasrockyandslippery.Thenewspringfoliagewascomingupeverywhere,butthe

groundwassquishyfromthesnowthatmusthavecoveredthisareaamonthorsoago.

I was puffing by the time I reached the top. I also had a bloody knee from slipping

overtwice.Iliftedmyhandtoshieldmyeyesfromthesettingsunanddidaslowcircle.

PanicwashedthroughmeagainwhenIsaw…nothing.

Nothingbutpinetreesdwarfedbysnow-toppedmountains.

I was going to rot here. Beau might not come by this way for a week, when he was

meanttopickmeupintown.I’dbeacorpsebythen.Rottinginmycar…

Hangon,wasthat…

Isquinted,liftingmypacktoblockthesettingsunfrommyeyes.Yes!Itwassmoke!

Ahouse.Ithadtobe.

ItwasthefirstsignoflifeI’dseenalongthisroad,andsinceBeautoldmeitwasonly

himandhisbrotherthatlivedouthere,andhiswasthefirsthouse,ithadtobehim.

Istartedbackdownthehill.Iwasn’tsurehowlongitwouldtakemetowalkthere—I

wasn’tagreatjudgeofsuchthings—butsurelynomorethananhour.

Anhourandahalflater,Iwashobblingoverstones,trippingoverlogs,andhadtears

runningdownmyface.Mynewhikingbootswereinstrumentsoftorture.Ihadblisterson
myblisters.AndIwasscaredoutofmymind.

Iscannedmysurroundings,jumpingagainatthesoundofmoretwigsbreakingbehind

me.Therewasarustlingnextandmyheartpoundedharderinmychest.

Ihadnoideawhatitwas,butitstartedabouttenminutesago.I’dconvincedmyselfit

wasthewind,butnowIwasn’tsosure.

I pushed through a bushy, shrubby tree, twigs and leaves pulling at my clothes, and

stoppeddead.Moretears,ofreliefthistime,instantlysprangtomyeyes.Ahouse.

I hobbled toward it. There was a porch that I would guess went all the way around.

Twochairssattoonesideofthedoor,andsittingononeofthemwasBeau.Therewasno
mistakinghim.Helookedjustlikehispicture.

Tearswerestreaminguncontrollablydownmyfacebythispoint.“Beau!”Icalled.

Hisheadwhippedaroundtomeandheshottohisfeet.Agunseemedtoappearinhis

handsoutofnowhere.Heliftedit…andfired.

Iscreamed,coveredmyheadwithmyhands,anddroppedtotheground.

BEAU

JUMPED

OFF

THE

PORCH

, gun aimed and ready to take a second shot. Blood rushed

through my ears as I approached the grizzly lying still, two feet from the woman now
curledinaballontheground.

Whatthefuck?

Thebeardidn’tmove.I’dmanagedacleanshot.Godonlyknewhow.Christ,myheart

wasstillpounding.

Icroucheddown,butIcouldn’tseethewoman’sface.Shewasstillinafetalposition.

“Youallright?”Itriedtokeeptheangerfrommyvoice.Ididn’tkillbears,andanybody
withsenseintheirheadsknewspringintheRockyMountainswasnotthetimetotraipse
throughthewoodsaloneand,bythelooksofit,unarmed.

Shepeekedupatmethroughherhair.“Oh,myGod,”shewhispered.

“Christ,areyou—”

“Youshotatme,”sheblurted.

Ireachedouttohelphertoherfeet,andshejerkedback,scramblingaway,asshesaid

awholelotlouder,“Youshotatme.”

It was dark, and the woman was in shadow, I had no idea who the hell she was, but

she’d obviously lost her damn mind. She had to be lost or perhaps she’d been in some
kindofaccident?Peopledidn’tjuststrolluptomyhouse,ever.

Itriedagain.“Areyouhurt?Whyareyououthereonyourown?”Ireachedforher,

andagainsheyankedherarmoutofmyreach.

“I should have listened to Sally. She said this was a mistake, that I’d end up in a

shallow grave in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. She was right. Oh my God, she was
right!”

Shebackedupsomemore,visiblyshaking.

“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”Igrittedout,mypatiencewearingthin.

Sheshookherhead.“Iknewyouweretoogoodtobetrue.Iknewit.”

Istaredather.Whothehellwasshe?

She turned her head slightly, and moonlight caught her features. Features that were

morethanalittlefamiliar.I’dmemorizedthem,haddreamedaboutthatfacemoretimes
thanIcouldcount.Isquinted,tryingtogetabetterlookather.“Freya?”

Shewasstillbackingup.

Iliftedahand.“Stop.”

“You’dlikethat,wouldn’tyou?”

Shetookanotherstep…

And stumbled over the dead bear behind her, landing on top of it. That’s when she

screamed,soloudmyearspopped.

I rushed over, hauled her up into my arms, and hung on. She was so freaked I was

scaredshe’dtakeoffintothenightandgetherselfkilled.

Jesus, she was small, but the woman had curves, and lots of them. She was a nice

armful. I’d thought many times about how she’d feel against me, but not once had I
imaginedthatshe’dbestrugglingtogetawaywhenitfinallyhappened.

Still,Icouldn’thelpbutdipmyheadandbreatheherin,somethingelseI’dthoughta

lotabout.Womenallhadtheirownspecialscent;theyweresweeter,andFreyawasjustas
intoxicatingasI’ddreamed.Herhairsmelledlikeflowers…

Her boot connected with my shin. “Ow! Christ!” I lifted her off her feet to stop her

fromgrindingherheeldeeper.

Shestruggledharder.“Letmego,psycho!”

IguessIprobablyshouldhaveclearedthingsupbeforeIstartedsniffingthewoman.

I’djustbeenwaitingsodamnlongforthis,I’dgottenalittleaheadofmyself.Ipressed
mymouthtoherear.“Iwasn’tshootingatyou,Freya.Iwasshootingatthebearstalking
you.”

Her struggling eased and I watched her turn back to the bear, then up to the porch

where I’d been sitting, and finally to me. The fear was fading fast and was quickly
followedbyunderstanding.

Sheblinkedupatme.“Oh.”Shetensed.“So,you’renot…”

“Apsycho?NotthatIknowof.”Iloweredherbutkeptholdofherarm,stillalittle

worriedshe’dbolt.

She blinked up at me. “Well…” She bit her lip. “This wasn’t exactly how I, ah,

plannedourfirstmeeting.”

I’d been talking to this woman, fantasizing about her, for six months, and she was

finallystandinginfrontofme,intheflesh.Icouldbarelybelieveit.

“Meeither,”Isaid.Understatementofthegoddamnyear.

Ireachedupandtuckedastraylockofherhairbehindherear.Ifelthertremble,and

goingbytheexpressiononherface,itdefinitelywasn’tfromfear.Ilikedthat.Alot.And,
shit,thegroundsuddenlydidn’tfeeltoosteadyundermyfeeteither.

Hergorgeousgreeneyeslookedovermyface,droppedtomymouth,thenbackupto

myeyes.“Hey,”shesaid,voicesoft,alittlehusky.

“Hey.”

Thenwejuststaredateachother.

Finally,shesaid,“Youlookjustlikeyourpictures.”

“You’re even more beautiful,” I said, meaning every word. Freya Thomas was the

loveliest creature I’d laid my eyes on. Her hair was a deep auburn, and even with twigs
andleavestangledinit,Icouldseeitwassoftandhadagentlewave.Hereyeswerewide
andthemoststunninggreen,hernose,smallandcute,andhermouth—Christ,hermouth
waswideandherlipslushandfull.Shewaslikeacurvylittlewoodsprite.

Igavemyselfaninternalshakeandaskedthemostpressingquestion.“Whatareyou

doinghere,Freya?”

Herskinturnedpink,andsheliftedherhandspalmup.“Surprise.Idecidedtocomea

weekearlier.”

Ifrowned,confusedashell.“I’mthrilledyou’rehere—shit,youhavenoidea—but…”

Ilookedbehindherthenbackdown.“What’sgoingon?Howdidyougethere?Andmore
importantly,where’syourgun?”

Shewaschewingthesideofhermouth,andherhand,nowonmyforearm,squeezed.

Shit,justthatbitofcontactmademehard.Iforcedmyselftoconcentrateandignoremy
dick. The two weeks we’d planned to spend together weren’t about fucking, they were
aboutmakingsureFreyawassuitedtothislifestyle,thatwewerecompatibleinallways,
notjustbetweenthesheets.Thiswasn’taboutlust,anditsureashellwasn’taboutlove.It
was about finding a partner for this life, a life that was tough and harsh and often
unforgiving.

ButfromwhatFreyahadtoldmeaboutherupbringing,noneofitshouldbethatnew

toher.

“Mygun?”shesaid.

“Yeah.”

“Dammit, I, ah, left it at home. I was in such a rush to get here, I forgot about it

completely.”

I slid my thumb over the back of her hand, unable to stop myself. Her skin was

insanelysoft.“Youcanuseoneofmine.”

Herbrowsshotup.“Oh…that’s,that’sgood.”

“How’dyougethere?”

“Well,Ihadasmallaccidentonthewayhere,soIwalkedtherestoftheway.”

Mybrowsshotup,andIquicklyscannedherforinjuries.“Accident?Areyouhurt?”

She lifted her fingers to her woolen hat. “Just a bump to the head. Otherwise, I’m

fine.”

“Jesus.Howfardidyouwalk?”

“I’vebeenwalkingacoupleofhours,Iguess.”

Thiswholenightwasinsane.“Let’sgetyouinside.I’lltakealookatyourhead.I’ll

sort your truck out tomorrow.” I took her hand and she followed me inside, or rather
hobbled.Iglanceddownather.“Didyouhurtyourlegaswell?”

Sheshookherhead,asmallsmilecurvingherlipsthatmademyheartkickbehindmy

ribs.“Newboots,”shesaid.

I ignored the way her smile was affecting me—or tried—and frowned. Why the hell

would she wear new boots on a trip like this? She had to know we’d be doing a lot of
walking. The thought vanished from my mind, though, as I led her up the stairs to my
house.I’dbeenworkingonthisplaceforfouryears.I’dputnearlyeverypennyI’dmade
workingonaranchduringsummerintoit.Mytwin,Hank,hadinheritedourfamilyhome
whenourgrandfather,who’draisedus,passedaway.

Hankdeservedit.He’dneverabandonedthefamilylikeIhad,andhe’dbeenthereto

nurseourgrandfatherwhilehewasdying.I,ontheotherhand,hadbeenofflivingwild.
Only I’d swapped rugged mountain peaks and grizzly bears for women and alcohol and
beinganirresponsibleasshole.

I’d loved the house we’d grown up in, and I’d wanted to create something like it,

somethingofmyownthatIcouldpassdowntomyownkidsoneday.Iwantedafamily,
andthat’swhatI’dkeptinmindwhileHankandIhadbuiltthisplace.

IknewFreyalivedinthecitynow,butshe’dgrownuponaranch,hadlivedasimilar,

simpler life. What she thought of my home was important to me. Whoever I married
wouldhavetoliveandbehappythere.

Herreactiontomyhousewasthefirststep.

Ipushedthedooropenandusheredherinaheadofme.I’dthoughtIhadanotherweek

tofinishacoupleofsmallthings,buthopefullyshecouldseepastthat.

She still had hold of my hand and she spun to me, a huge smile on her face. “Wow,

Beau.Really.”Sheturnedaroundandtookeverythingin.“You’vetalkedsomuchabout
workingonthishouse,Ihadthisideainmyhead,youknow,whatIthoughtitwouldlook
like…”Sheturnedbacktome.“ThissurpassesanythingIimagined.”

Mychestexpanded.“Youlikeit?”

Sheletgoofmyhandandmoved,ormorelimped,deeperintothelargelivingroom.

“It’s like something from a storybook.” She ran a hand over one of the doorframes, and
lookedupattheroof,thehugebeamsthatcrisscrossedit.“Youdidthis,allwithyourown
twohands.I’m…I’mblownaway.”

ShetuggedherwoolenhatoffandIgotabetterlookatherhair.Itwasdark,butthere

werelighterstreaksofbrighterauburn.Ilovedherhair.Evenfromherpicturesyoucould
see how stunning it was. Way too many times I’d imagined wrapping it around my fist
whileshewasonherkneesinfrontofme.

Iwalkedovertoherandgentlypulledatwigfree,mainlybecauseIwantedtotouch

her. “My brother helped,” I said, frowning when I spotted a little dried blood by her

hairline,justabovehertemple.“Youcutyourhead.”

Herfingerscameupandsheproddedit.

“Letmelook.”Igentlymovedherhair.Thankfully,itdidn’tlookserious.“It’ssmall.

Headwoundscanbleedalot.”

IcouldfeelhereyesonmeandwhenIlookeddownsheshookherhead.“Ifeelfine.

I’msureit’snothing.”Hersmilewidened.“So,willIgettomeetthem,Hankandhiswife,
whileI’mhere?”

Hankdidn’tknowanythingaboutFreya.I’dkeptourplantomyself.Hewassoloved

upwithhiswife,Birdie,Iknewhewouldn’tunderstand.AndasmuchasIwasattractedto
Freya,IwantedtobesurethatthiswasgoingtoworkbetweenusbeforeIintroducedher
to my family. “Maybe,” I said instead of sharing any of that. “Birdie had their twins a
monthago,sothey’restickingclosetohome.”

Freyaclaspedherhandstogetherinfrontofher.“Shehadthebabies?That’ssogreat.

Whatdidtheyhave?”

Icouldn’thelpbutsmiledownather.IlovedFreya’senthusiasm.Justthethoughtof

myniecesputasmileonmyface.“Girls.Andthey’redoinggreat.”I’dsharedsomuchof
mylifewiththiswoman,morethanI’dsharedwithanyoneelse,apartfrommybrother.
Havingherwithmejustfeltright.

Don’tgetaheadofyourself,Beau.

Shesteppedcloserandrestedherhandsonmychest,hercheeksflushed,eyesbright.

“I’msohappytobeherewithyou,youhavenoidea,”shesaidsoftly.

Myabsclenched.Jesus,justhavingherhandsonmemademeashardasiron.“Ithink

Ihaveanidea.”

“Yeah?”shesaid,movingevencloser.

I might have decided to keep my dick in my pants, but there was no way I wasn’t

goingtokissher.I’dgomadifIdidn’ttastethosefulllips.Idippedmyhead.“Ohyeah.”

We’dhadacoupleofhotandheavyconversationsoverthephone,butI’dtriednotto

gotheretoooftenwithher.Iknewthisdaywascoming,andIhadadefiniteideaofhow
ourtimetogethershouldbespent.IfI’dbeenlisteningtohercomeoverthephonethelast
six months all that would have disappeared out the window. Shit, I’d already have her
nakedinmybed.

Igrowled,shovingthatimageoutofmyhead,andclosedthedistancebetweenus.

Finally,ourlipsmet…andIkidyounot,thefuckingangelssang.

Mymouthcoveredhers,movingslowlyatfirst,andmyentirebodylitup,everynerve

endingsparking,myheartpounding.Islidmyarmsaroundhersmallwaistandhauledher
offherfeet,liftinghersowewerethesameheight.Shovingmyfingersinherhair,Itilted
myheadtogetmoreofher,andsheopenedforme,hersweetlittletongueflickingoutand
brushingmine.

I’d been with quite a few women in my life. Like I said, I’d lived wild for a lot of

years,actingout,tryingtoworkoutwhatIwanted.ButassoonasIdid,assoonasIknew
what I wanted for my future, I’d stopped all of it. I’d focused on my goal, which was
buildingahouseandfindingawomanwhoIcouldshareitwith.Thatwasfouryearsago.
WhichmeantI’dbeencelibatethatlongaswell.SoIwasn’tsurprisedbymyreactionto
Freya,bythepulsingneedpoundingthroughmeatfinallyhavingheragainstme.

ButI’dneverinmylifeexperiencedanythinglikethis.Likealivewirewassparking

insideme,throughmywholedamnbody.Myhipspunchedforwardallontheirown,my
cock impossibly hard. I knew I had to slow this down, take a step back, but God only
knewhowIwasgoingtodothat.

Then it got even harder because she wrapped her legs around me, and maybe it was

justmyimagination,butIwassureIcouldfeeltheheatofherpussythroughourclothes,
rightthereagainstmyachingdick.

Iwassecondsawayfromtearingherclothesfromherbodyandsinkinginsideher.But

somehow,Imanagedtotearmylipsfromhers.

Hermouthwenttomythroatandshenipped,suckingtheskinthere,asexylittlemoan

comingfromherthroat.“Beau,”shesaid,voicefullofneed.

Shit,hearingthat—howmuchshewantedme,too—hadelectricityshootingdownmy

spine.

Shetuggedatmyhair.“OhGod,youfeelsogood.”

Itookastepforward,restingherlovelyroundassthatwascurrentlyinmyhandson

thebackofthecouch,andtriedtopullback.Sheclungtighter,makingitfuckinghardto
dotherightthing.“Youfeelgood,too,honey,butweneedtoslowthisdown.”

IcouldbarelybelievewhatIwassaying,soFreya’sfrowndidn’tsurprisemeonebit.

“Slowitdown?”shesaid.

“Yeah,”Imuttered.“Don’tyouthinkweshouldgettoknoweachother,youknow,in

person, before we go to bed together?” I cupped the side of her face. She was flushed,
eyes bright, lips full and swollen from my kiss. “I’m trying to do the right thing here,
Freya.”

Herheaddroppedforward,foreheadrestingagainstmychest,andshegroaned.“No,

you’re right,” she said, voice muffled. She lifted her head again. “At least one of us is
strongenoughtoslowthingsdown.Ifeellikewe’vebeenonthelongestfirstdateofmy
life.We’vebeenbuildinguptothatfirstkissforsixmonths.”

Her breath was coming in little pants, and though I couldn’t see her tits through her

jacket,Iknewhernippleswouldbehard,tightlittlepeaksunderneath.

“I’mnotstrong,believeme,”Isaid,takingastepback.“ButIdon’twanttomessthis

up.”

Shenodded,herhairmovingaroundhershoulders.“Meeither.”

Icrossedmyarms,soIdidn’treachforheragain.“You’vewalkedalongway.How

aboutIrunyouabathand,whileyoucleanup,makeussomedinner?”

Shesliddownfromthebackofthecouchandscoopedupherpack.“Soundsperfect.”

AsIledherupstairs,ItriedtothinkaboutanythingotherthanFreyanakedinmytub.

It wasn’t working. “Tomorrow I thought we’d go fishing,” I said, desperate to move us
awayfromwhatjusthappeneddownstairs.ShestumbledoverastepandIreachedoutand
caughther.“Steady.”

“Fishing?”shesaid,voicehigher.

“Yeah.”

“Wow,that’s…that’ssuchagreatidea.”

I grinned, pleased with myself. “I know you’ve missed it since your folks sold their

place and moved you to Denver. I have your whole stay planned out. Hunting, fishing,
trekseveryday.You’regoingtoloveithere.”

Sheclearedherthroat.“Can’twait.”

FREYA

KNOCK

at the door startled me awake. I flailed, splashing water over the side of the

tub.

“Youokayinthere?”Beaucalledthroughthedoor.

Icouldn’tbelieveI’dnoddedoff.Iwasnoslouch—Imean,Ididyoga—butmybody

wasn’t used to hour and a half treks over rough terrain, and I was exhausted. “Yes!” I
calledback.

“Grub’supwhenyou’reready,”hesaidinthatextremelydeep,extremelyroughvoice.

Ashiverslidthroughme,thegoodkind.“I’llberightdown.”

I listened to his retreating steps and forced myself to climb out of the tub. Every

muscle in my body protested. God, nothing had gone like I’d imagined. After having a
gun fired in my direction then momentarily thinking I’d been talking to some crazed
psychoforthelastsixmonths,we’dattackedeachotherlikestarvedanimals.Thenhe’d
slammedonthebrakes,andIstillhadn’trecovered.

I understood what he was saying, and I respected his wishes, but I also felt like I

alreadyknewhim.We’dtalkedalot,andthentherewasthefactthatIwaswildlyinlove
withhim.

I didn’t need time, and the fact that he did, that he was still unsure about me—us—

well,itmademefeelalotlesssecureinthisthingwehadgoingonthanIhadanhourago.

The nerves in my belly increased. I’d assumed I’d get here and we’d spend the first

weekinbedmakingupforallourtimeapart,andthatthere’dbarelybetimeforanything
else.Then,onenight,afterBeauhadmademescreamhisnameandwewerelyinginthe
darkineachother’sarms—anditwasobviousthathe’dfallenformejustashardasIhad
him—I’dadmitthatIhadembellishedmyexperiencewhenitcametolivinginthistype
ofsituation,butwelovedeachotherandthatwasallthatmattered.

Ofcourse,itwasn’tgoingtobethateasy,andinsteadofadayinbedtomorrow,we

weregoingfishing.

Ididn’tknowhowtofish!

Imean,Ihadatleastboughttherightoutfit,sothatwassomething,buteverythingelse

—the hooks, the worms, whatever else was involved—I had not the first clue. I didn’t
thinkI’dneedtoknow!

Grabbingatowel,Iquicklydriedoffanddressedthenmademywaybackdownstairs.

Thereweretwoplatessittingonthelargerusticwoodentablejustoffthekitchen.Steak,
potatoes,carrots,andpeaswereheapedontheplatenexttoaglassofjuice.

AclangcamefromthekitchenandIturnedtofindBeaustandingthere.Theoxygen

waskickedfrommylungs.That’showthemanaffectedme.

Playitcool,Freya.

“Hopeyou’rehungry,”herumbled,bluegazemovingoverme.

God,hewasgorgeous.“Dinnerlooksdelicious.”

Hegrinned,whiteteethsurroundedbysexybeard,andmyheartsmackedagainstthe

backofmyribs.Theremighthavebeensomenippletighteningaswell.Hisgazemoved
overmeagain,thistimefromheadtotoe,pausingatmyhair,mychest,myhips,andthe
grinwavered.

Hiseyescamebacktomineandhisnostrilsflared.“Youlookpretty.”

I looked down at myself. I hadn’t really thought much about the clothes I’d grabbed

outofthecarbeforeIstartedmynightmaretrek.Iwaswearingmyfavoritejeans,softand
so worn that in places you could see glimpses of skin here and there, and a fitted green
shirtthatIguessedclungalittle.Ithadarowofbuttonsdownthefrontthatstoppedjust
undermyboobsandthetopfewwereundone,showingthetiniestbitofcleavage.Ilooked
backupathim.“Thanks.”

Heblewoutaroughbreath.“Sit.Let’seatbeforeitgetscold.”

Beauwaitedformetositdownthendidthesameacrossfromme.

Silencefollowed,anditstartedtofeelawkward.Ididn’twantthat.

Isearchedforsomethingtosay.Mygazelandedonthelow-hangingchandeliermade

ofantlersabovethetable.Ididn’tknowhowI’dmissedit.“Wow,didyoumakethat?”I
asked,motioningtoit.

Hislipscurledononeside.“Yeah.”

“Andyoukilledallthe…um,animalsyourself?”

Hissmilegrewwiderand,holyhell,itwasbreathtaking.“Yeah.”

Ididn’tknowwhatelsetosay.Itwasn’tlikeIcouldcommentabouthisexcellentskills

whenIdidn’tknowthefirstthingabouthunting.

Afterthatwestartedeating,liketwopolitefriends.Wemadesmalltalk.Beauwasn’t

the joking, laughing guy I’d been talking to online. He was polite, respectful, and
distracted.

Ihatedit,andwitheveryminutethatpassedby,themoreawfulIfelt.

“Whatmadeyoudecidetocomeearly?”heaskedafterasipofhisdrink,headslightly

tiltedtotheside.

AtleastinthisIcouldbehonest.“I’vebeenhavingtroublewithmyboss.IguessIjust

reachedmylimitandIquit.ThefirstthingIwantedtodoafterwardwastalktoyou,but

sinceyou’renotattheranchanymore,Icouldn’tgetholdofyou,soinsteadIgotinmy
carandstarteddriving.”

He was chewing a mouthful and paused for a second then swallowed. “I never took

youfortheimpulsivetype.”

Thewayhesaidit,Igotthefeelinghedidn’tthinkthatwasexactlyanendearingtrait.

“I’mnot…notusually,anyway,”Isaidcautiously.“ButwhenIgetbackedintoacorner,or
I’vebeenpushedtomylimits,IsupposeIdohaveatendencytoruntheotherway.”

His expression stayed alarmingly blank, and he nodded slowly. “I don’t really have

thatoptionouthere.Inthislife,ifyou’repushedtothelimitsyoureallyhavenochoice
buttopushback,tofaceit.Youhavetofindaway.”

Ifinishedchewingmymouthfulandhadtoforceitdown.Itwassuddenlysawdustin

mymouth.IfeltlikeBeauhadjustgivenmemyfirsttestandI’dgottenabigredF.“The
cityisaverydifferentplace,andI’mtalkingpeoplehere.Idoubtthatwouldbeasmuch
ofanissueouthere.”

Henoddedagain,buthislipswereinaflatline.“Yeah,you’rerightthere.”

Igrippedmyknifeandforktighter.Jesus.Thiswaslikeoneofthoseinterviewswhere

youwalkoutthedoorandreceiveathanksbutnothanksmessageonyourphonebefore
youevengethome.

We finished up our meal, and the conversation was even more strained. I took the

emptyplatestothekitchen.“I’lldothewashingupsinceyoucooked.”

Hestood.“Yeah,Ibettergodealwiththebear.Lastthingweneedisotherpredators

smellingthefreshbloodandcomingclosetothehouse.”

I froze, and Beau didn’t miss it. His brows lowered. I forced myself to relax. A girl

bornandraisedonaranchinColoradowouldknowthat.“Yes,ofcourse.”

Iwatchedhimshoveonhisjacketandboots,grabhisgun,andgooutside,shuttingthe

doorbehindhim.Myheartsanktomyfeet.

Somehow,intheshorttimeI’dbeenhere,I’dmanagedtoscreweverythingup.

I finished the dishes and then didn’t know what to do with myself, so sat on one of

Beau’sbigleathercouchesandwaitedforhim,butevenwiththewaymymindraced,my
eyelidsrefusedtostayopen.

ThenextthingIknewIwasmoving.

My lids fluttered open. Beau was carrying me upstairs. He was looking ahead and

didn’tknowI’dwokenup,andforsomereasonIlethimcarryonthinkingit,stayinglimp
inhisarms.Therewasalightthudwhenhepushedadooropenwithhisfoot.

WasIinhisroom?

Heloweredmecarefully,therewasarustle,andhepulledthecoversoverme.Thenhe

straightened,andjuststoodthere.IhadmyeyesclosedbutIknewhewaslookingdownat
me.Ifeltit.Somethingtickledmyhair.

Hewastouchingit.

Itrieddesperatelytokeepmybreathingeven.

“Christ,”hemutteredunderhisbreath.

Christ,what?Thewayhesaiditwasn’tnecessarilygood.Ididn’tknowwhatitwas.

TherewasatonetohisvoiceI’dneverheardbeforeduringthemanytimeswe’dtalked.

He stood there for several more seconds, then blew out a rough breath, and walked

out,thedoorclickingshutbehindhim.Iopenedmyeyes.

Thiswasdefinitelynothisroom.Notsurprising,ofcourse,butIcouldn’thelpbeing

disappointed.

Iforcedmyselftostaycalm.Tomorrowwasanewday,andIjusthadtomakesureI

wonhimover.ShowhimthatIwasthesamegirlhe’dbeentalkingtoallthesemonths—
andIwasthesamegirl,justwithoutafewoftherequiredoutdoorskills.ButIwasgoing
tothrowmyselfintoeverythingwedid,learnwhatIneededto,andIwasgoingtoloveit.

Tomorrowwewerefishing.

Howhardcoulditbe?

BEAU

SUN

WAS

upbythetimeIgotbacktothehouse.I’dgottenupearlytogogetFreya’s

thingsfromhertruck.She’dbeenoutcold—notsurprisingafterhertreklastnight—soI’d
left her a note. She must have still been asleep because there was no sign of her
downstairs.

I dumped her bags on the couch, all of them. There were four, one a bright pink

suitcasewithwheels.Istareddownatherstuffandshookmyhead.She’dtriedtodrive
outhereinafuckingHondaAccord.Whathadshebeenthinking?I’dplannedtowinch
whatIassumedwasatruckfreeoftheditch,butinsteadI’dcalledforittobetowedback
totown.

Sheshouldknowthisstuff,right?

Thewomanhadgrownuponaranchinthemiddleofnowherebeforeherfamilyhad

packed up and moved to Denver. I didn’t get it. Why would she attempt that drive, and
moretothepoint,howcouldshenotknowhowgoddamndangerousitwastojustsetoff
walkinglikethatlastnight?

Howcouldshehavenotknownthattherewerebears,mountainlions,andevenwolves

outthereonoccasion?Shewasluckytomakeitherealive.

I’dbeentoostunnedatfinallyseeingher,intheflesh,forthattofullysinkin,butafter

seeinghercarIwasasconfusedashell.

Andthentherewasthekiss.Myguttightened.I’dnearlythrownallmyplansoutthe

window.I’dspenttoomuchofmylifealreadychasingwhateverfeltgood,notthinking,or
planning,orweighingtheprosandcons.Notcaringabouthowmyactionsaffectedothers.

I’d left the mountain, desperate to get away. I’d left my twin brother, Hank, to take

careofourgrandfather,theproperty,andIhadn’tlookedback—notuntilitwastoolate.

NotuntilIgotthecalltosaythatmygrandfatherhaddied.

Inevergottosaygoodbye.

I’dleftHanktogothroughthatalone.

Irefusedtobethatpersonanymore.I’dbeenworkingmyassofftoputthemanI’d

beenbehindme.

Iwantedstability,afamily,tobethereformybrotherandhisownfamily.Icouldn’t

find the right person to share all that with if I was blinded by lust, or by feelings and
emotionsthatcouldskewabalanced,well-considereddecision.

I wanted Freya, no doubt, but I couldn’t give in to the throbbing ache behind my

zipper.IhadtothinkwiththebigheadorIriskedscrewingthisup,ofmakingthewrong
decision.

“Morning.”

IspunaroundatFreya’ssleep-huskyvoice,andmymouthfellopen.

Jesus. Christ. At the sight of her, my dick punched into my zipper and my breath

rushedfrommylungs.

Asmallsmilecurledupthecornerofhermouthasshemadeherwaydownthestairs.

Mygazeateupeveryinchofher.Freya,here,inmyhouse…finally.

AndIcouldn’ttouchher.

Hercheekswereflushedfromsleep,hergorgeousredhairtousledlikeaman’shands

hadjustbeeninit,andherlips—Iswallowed—weresoftandpuffy.Thewomanlooked
like she’d been recently fucked. If this was how she looked when she woke every
morning,Iwasn’tgoingtosurvivethenextcoupleofweeks.

Idroppedmygaze,tryingtoavoidherface,andinsteadgotaneyefulofsmooth,tan

legs.Itooktherestofherin,givingupthefight.Shit,shewaswearingoneofmyoldT-
shirts,anditreachedaboutmid-thigh.Mycockstartedpulsing.

Shegrabbedthehemandhelditdown,whichcausedthefabrictoclingmoretoher

large, round tits. “I hope you don’t mind. I found it in the drawers in my room. I didn’t
wanttosleepinmyclothes.”

Iwasnoddinglikeabobblehead.Icouldseetheoutlineofhernipples,clearasday.

Small and tight, and so damn suckable my mouth actually watered. “No…” I croaked. I
clearedmythroat.“No,usewhateveryouwant.”

She reached the bottom of the stars and came straight to me, wrapping her arms

aroundmywaist.Istoodtherelikeastatue,afraidifIheldherinreturnI’dlosecontrolof
mycurrentlydwindlingwillpowerandfuckheronthekitchentable.

“It’ssogoodtofinallybeherewithyou,”shesaidagainstmychest.

Iangledmyhipsback,soshedidn’tfeeltheragingerectionIhadgoingonandforced

myselftopathershoulder.“Yeah.”Iquicklysteppedback,dislodgingher.“Youhungry?”

“Mybags!”Sheranovertocheckoutherstuff,thenspunbacktome.“Yougotmy

things?”

Her smile was huge, and the most exquisite thing I’d ever seen. “Yeah, early this

morning.Didn’twanttowakeyou,youlookedsopeaceful.”

Sheblushed.“Youtriedtowakeme?”

“Ijustopenedthedooracrack,butyouwerepassedout.”

HersmileturnedshyandIthoughtImightactuallyshootaloadinmypants.

“I’m kind of a heavy sleeper. My roommate says I’d sleep through our apartment

building falling down.” She crossed her arms under her chest, lifting those full breasts
higher.Thewomanwaskillingme.“I’malsoawriggler.”

I chuckled, but it came out sounding kind of pained. She was a wriggler all right.

“Yeah, I noticed.” The woman had been on her stomach, blankets almost all kicked off,
legsspreadwide…

Ineededtogetawayfromherforafewminutestogetmyshittogether.

Shecoveredherfacewithherhands.“I’msoembarrassed.”

Ishookmyhead.“Nothingtobeembarrassedabout.Youlookedcute.”Andfuckable,

sogoddamnfuckable.

Shesnorted.“Niceofyoutosayso,butI’mprettysurethat’sabigfatlie.”

“I haven’t lied to you yet, and I’m not planning on it now.” I watched as her smile

slippedalittleandshelookedbackdownatherbags.

“IguessIbettergettheseupstairs.”Shegrabbedabagandheadedup.

Ipickeduptherestandfollowed,wonderingwhatitwasI’djustwitnessedandifit

wassomethingIneededtoworryabout.

I walked into the room after her. “There’s some oatmeal downstairs when you’re

ready,”Isaidandputthebagsdownbythedoor.

Sheblinkedoveratme.“Oatmeal?”

“Yeah,Ihaveiteverymorning.”

Hereyesmovedovermybody,and,Christ,didIfeelit,likeshe’drunherhandsfrom

myshouldersdowntomywaist…lower.Shebitherlipand,fuckme,squeezedherthighs
together.WasshefeelingthephysicalconnectionbetweenuslikeIwas?

Wassheachingandwetformejustthen?

Sheletoutashakylittlebreath.“Thosepicturesyousentme…thesizeofyou…”Her

gazemovedovermyshoulders,mybiceps.“Allthephysicalworkyoudo…Ienvisioned
youhavingafullcookedbreakfasteverymorning.”

My fingers curled and uncurled at my sides. Those abundant curves of hers were

makingmecrazy,andtheair,itseemedtocracklearoundus.Ittookeverythinginmenot
toclosethegapbetweenus,throwheronthebed,tearmyshirtfromherbody,andfuck
herintothemattress.

“Wealwayslivedfrugallygrowingup.Mygrandfathermadeuseatiteverymorning.I

thoughtIhatedit,untilIdidn’thavetohaveitanymore.”Itookastepbackforbothour
sakesandmovedoutintothehall.“I’llleaveyoutogetdressed.”

Shenoddedandherhairshimmiedfromsidetoside.“We’refishingtoday,right?”

“Yep,seeyoudownstairs,”Ichokedpastthelusthammeringeverysinglepartofme,

andpulledthedoorclosed.

Iheadeddownstairs,dishedherupabowlofoatmealthenheadedoutsidetothebarn

togetmyfishinggeartogether.IttookalittlelongerthanI’dplanned.Hankhadborrowed
someofittheweekbeforeandhadputitbackinthewrongplace.

Ifinallyfoundeverything,loadeditinmypackwiththerestofthegearweneeded,

andheadedbackinside.Iwalkedintothekitchenandjerkedtoastop.

Freyastoodatthesinkwashingherbowl,and…Jesus.

Sheturnedtomeandsmiled.“Allset!”

I had to bite back a laugh. She was wearing one of those fishing vests with all the

pockets, hooks and shit all over it, and a matching khaki brimmed hat. She was also
wearingwadersthatwerewaytoobig.Shelookeddorkyand,Christ,cute.“Icanseenow
whyyouhavesomanybags.”

Hercheeksturnedpink.“YouthinkIhavetoomanybags?”

Igrinnedtoputheratease,andalsobecauseIcouldn’thelpit.Shelookedgoddamned

adorable.“I’maguy,whatdoIknow?Itravellight.”

Hersmilecameback.“Iliketobeprepared,”shesaidandtrudgedtowardme.“Right,

let’sdothis.”

Two hours later we were standing in the river fishing, or I was. Freya, on the other

hand,wastryingtounsnagherlineforthetwentiethtime.Ithadonlytakentenseconds,if
that,toworkoutthatFreyahadneverfishedadayinherlife.

“Youwantsomehelp?”Icalledovertoher.

Shespuntofaceme.“Ow!”She’dsnaggedhersleeveononeofthehookshangingoff

herridiculousvest.“Goddamnit.”

“Awhilesinceyoulastfished?”Icalledout,testingtoseeifshe’dcomeclean.

“Um…yeah. I guess I’m a little rusty,” she said, shoving back her hat, which had

droppedoverhereyes.

Ineededtoputheroutofhermisery,despitehowentertainingthiswas.Icouldseeshe

wasn’tenjoyingherself.Whythehellwouldshetellmeshecouldfishwhenshesoclearly
couldn’t?

Whatelsehassheliedabout?

Ishovedthethoughtfrommyhead.So,she’dtoldalittlewhitelietoimpressme.Igot

it. I was sure I’d exaggerated things about myself to seem more appealing, or what I
thoughtshe’dfindmoreappealing,duringourconversations.

Icouldteachhertofish;itwasn’tabigdeal.HankhadtaughtBirdieawholelotof

stuffwhenshemovedtohisplace.Weoftenfishedtogethernow.Iwantedthat.Iwanted
thewomanIwaswithtoenjoythesamekindsofthingsIdid,tofitintomyfamily.

So what if this was one strike against Freya? It really wasn’t a big deal. This was

easilyremedied,right?

Iglancedoverather,herbeautifulfaceflushed,teethclenchedinfrustration,andallI

couldthinkaboutdoingwaskissingheragain.“Youreadytoheadback?”Icalledout.

Herheadsnappedtowardme.“Yes!Um,Imean,sure,ifyou’reready?”

Iturnedaway,soshedidn’tseemysmile.

After reeling in my line, I decided I’d better help her out of the water since she’d

almostfallenovertwice,andwepackedupourgearandheadedout.Therewasapretty
spotwherewecouldeatthepicniclunchI’dpacked.We’donlybeenwalkingforabout
tenminuteswhenshestartedtofallbehind.That’swhenInoticedshewaslimping.

HowcouldIforget?“Yourfeetarestillsorefromyourboots?”

Shewinced.“Yeah,alittle.”

Goingbythepainetchedonherfaceitwasahellofalotmorethanalittle.Istopped,

pulled off the pack. “You think you can carry this?” I asked. It wasn’t too heavy,
thankfully.

“Yes,”shesaid,withoutevenknowingwhatIplannedtodo.

Ifrownedatthat.DidshethinkshehadtoagreewitheverythingIsaid,orIwouldn’t

likeher?Thiswholethingwassodamncomplicated.Ishutthosethoughtsdownandslid
thebagonherback,thenIturnedaroundandcrouchedlow.“Climbon.”

“What?”shesaidalittlelouder.

“I’mgoingtocarryyoubeforeyoudomoredamagetoyourfeet.”

Shetookastepback.“Youcan’tdothat.I’mtooheavy—”

“Ican.Now,geton,Freya,”Isaid.

Iheardherblowoutabreath.“Areyousure?”

“Yep.”

“Whatifyouthrowyourbackout?”

“Iwon’t.”

Finally, after muttering something, she did what I asked. As soon as her arms were

aroundmyneck,Istartedwalkingagain.

“Ican’tbelieveyou’recarryingme,”shesaid.“God,I’msorry.YoumustthinkI’man

idiot.”

“Nope,andyoudon’tneedtobesorry,”Isaid.“You’realsonotheavy.”

“Iam,”shesaid.

Ishookmyhead.“You’rereallynot.”

“Iam.”

“Christ,Freya,I’mnotoneforemptywords.IonlysaysomethingifImeanit,andI’m

tellingyou,youarenottooheavy,okay?”

Shewasquietabeat.“Okay.”

Jesus,Isoundedlikeasurlybastard,butIwaswalkingthroughtheforestwiththestar

ofeverydirtythoughtandfantasyI’dhadforthelastsixmonthswrappedaroundme,her

tits pressed against my back, and an erection so fucking huge the head of my cock was
rubbingagainstthewaistbandofmypants.Itwasamixofpleasureandpain,anditwasn’t
helpingmymoodonefuckingbit.

I racked my brain for something to say to break the silence. “You have any pets

growingup?”

She relaxed a little more against me. “No. My parents—or more my mother—didn’t

wantanimalhaironherfurniture,sonopetsforme.”

Mybrowslifted.“Nothing?Notevenadog?”

“Nope,”shesaid.“ImadeupforitwhenImovedintomyownapartment.”

“Whatdidyouget?”

“Bruce.Myhamster.”

Agrinspreadacrossmyface.“Bruce?”

Her breath tickled my hair at the nape of my neck when she chuckled. “Yes, Bruce.

Whataboutyou?Ibetyouhadadog.”

Mysmileslippedalittle.“Yeah.AGermanshepherd.”

“Whatwashisname?”

“Shep.” It was amazing how just the mention of my dog made a whole lot of

memories,onesI’drathernotthinkabout,comefloodingback.WhythehellhadIchosen
petsofallthings?

“Didyourdadgethimforyou?”sheasked.

“Mymother.”I’dtoldFreyahowmymomleftus,Hankandmeandourdad,whenwe

werejustkids,soherpausedidn’tsurpriseme.SheknewIdidn’tliketotalkaboutthat
time.

“Whathappenedtohim?”shefinallyasked.

Iclearedmythroat.“IlefthimwithHankandmygrandfatherwhenIleft.Shepwent

everywhere with me, but he wouldn’t leave that day, wanted to stick close to Gramps. I
know it sounds stupid, but I think he knew Gramps was sick. He stuck by our
grandfather’sside,rightupuntiltheend.”

Freya’sarmstightenedaroundmyneck.“Animalsareincrediblyperceptive.”

“Yeah.”ItwasallIcouldmanage,mythroatsuddenlytight.

“Iknowyoufeelguiltoverwhathappened,overnotbeingthereforhim,but—”

“WhataboutBruce?”Isaid,notsosubtlychangingthesubject.

Icouldn’ttalkaboutthat,notwithFreya,notwithanyone.I’dtoldheralittleduring

oneofourcalls,onthelastanniversaryofhisdeath.I’dhadonetoomanywhiskeysandit
had loosened my tongue. I didn’t want to delve any deeper into that time in my life. I
couldn’t.

“Bruce?”Ifelthersuckinasharpbreath.“Hedied,acoupleofweeksagoactually.

WhileIwasawayonabusinesstrip.”

Hervoicesoundedshaky,likeshewasfightingtears.

Ihitchedherhigherinmyback.“Freya?”

“Iknowhewasjustahamster,but…”Sheclearedherthroat.“So,isitmuchfartherto

thismysteriousspot?”

Well, that had been a monumental failure. So much for lightening the mood. Christ.

“Notfar.”

WefinallyreachedthespotI’dpickedforourpicnic,andIwashopingtogetthings

back on track since, so far, today had not gone quite as planned. I’d just pulled out one
sandwichandhandedittoFreyawhenthefirstdropofrainhitmyface.

Withoutanymorewarningtheskyjustopenedup.

Thatwastheendofourpicnic,andbythetimewereachedthehousewewereboth

drenched.

“I’llquicklygetchangedandmakeuslunchsinceyourpicnicwasruined,”Freyasaid

andrushedupstairs.

Iwent up tohave a quickshower and change aswell. Christ, couldthis day get any

worse?

Apparently,theanswerwasyes,becausebeforeIcouldgetbackdownstairs,thewhole

placewasfullofsmokeandthealarmswerewailinginthekitchenandlivingroom.My
future flashed before my eyes as I rushed downstairs, of all my plans, the years of hard
workandsacrificetobuildthisplace,goingupinflames.

Irushedintothekitchen.

Freya stood in front of a tray with two unidentifiable black lumps smoking in the

middleofit,wavingadishtowelaround.

“Whatthefuck?”Iyelled.

She jumped and spun around. “I put buns in to warm, and…I don’t know…I must

haveleftthemintoolong.”

“Youthink?”

ShebitherlipandturnedawayasItookthedishtowelfromher,grabbedthetray,and

carrieditoutsidesoitwouldstopfillingmyhousewithsmoke.

ThenIstompedbackinside.

Freyawasgone.

Iassumedshewenttocleanupinthebathroomorwhatever,butastheminutesticked

by,Istartedtoworry.Iheadedupstairsandcalledhername.Nothing.Shewasn’tinher
roomandshewasn’tinthebathroom.

Shit.I’dupsether.

Shewouldn’trunoff,though,wouldshe?

Ihadnoidea.IbarelyresistedtheurgetoslammyfistintothewallbeforeItookoff

outsidelookingforher.Iwasabouttoheadthewayshe’dcomelastnight,assumingthat
maybeshe’dplannedtoheadbacktowardhercar,whensomethingmademestopandturn
towardthebarn.Thedoorwasajar.

Itwasonlyafewmetersaway,butbythetimeIreacheditIwasevenmorepissed…

Christ,beyondpissed.Thewomanconfusedthehelloutofme,didrecklessthings,could
haveburntmygoddamnhousedown,andnowshe’drunoff.Andthatwasjustdayone.
Okay,yeah,she’donlyruntothebarn,butIcouldhavebeenstormingthroughtheforest
bynowsearchingforher.

Ishovedthedooropenandstrodein.“Whatthefuck,Freya?”Ibitout.

Thenpulledupshort.

BEAU

SAT

WORKBENCH

, legs dangling, face in hands, and she was—shit, she was

crying.

Istoodthere,notsurewhatthehelltodo.Yeah,I’dbeeninthesameroomasacrying

woman before, but that didn’t mean it freaked me out any less. And Freya wasn’t just
crying,shewassobbingsohardshehadn’tevenheardmewhenIcamein.

“Freya?”Isaid,louderthistime.

Shejolted,herheadshootingup,andshequicklydraggedhersleeveoverhereyes.“I

just needed a minute…to get some fresh air.” She attempted a smile and pointed to her
wateryeyes.“Nowmyhayfever’splayingup,”shelied.

Imovedtowardher,likeshewasaterrifiedanimal,likeshe’dstartleandboltifImade

anysuddenmovements.“Youdon’thavehayfever.”Itookanotherstepcloser.“I’msorry
foryellingatyoubackthere.It’sjust…Ifreaked.IsawsmokeandIreacted.”

Sheshookherhead,andhereyes,whichwerelookingdownatherhandsagain,lifted

tome.Big,beautiful,andglistening.“AmIthatobvious?”

Inodded.

Hereyesclosedbriefly,andshedrewinashakybreath.“It’snotyou…andit’snotjust

aboutburnedbuns.”

“Talktome,Freya.What’sgoingon?”Myheartfeltlikeitwascrawlingupintomy

throat.

Sheglancedaway.

“Freya?”

Hereyescamebacktome,andmygutclenchedatthelookonherface.“I’mstarting

tothinkthatthis—us—itisn’twhateitherofusexpected.That’snotyourfault.It’smine
forbuildingthisintosomethingit’snot…andIkeepmessingeverythingup.”Shebither
lipandherfacecrumpled,fightingmoretears.

Mystomachsank.“Notwhatyouexpected?”Itriedandfailedtokeepmyvoiceeven.

She offered up another watery smile. “We’ve been talking for six months, Beau.

We’ve shared a lot of stuff with each other. We’ve had…intimate conversations. We
organizedthistimetogether,andIthought…Iassumed…”Sheshookherhead.“Itdoesn’t

matter.IthinkIshouldgohome.Thiswasamistake.”

Gohome?God,Isuckedatthis.She’dbeenhereforonedayandalreadyshewanted

togetawayfromme.HadIputtoomuchpressureonhertobethisidealI’dbuiltinmy
head?IwasprettysureI’dmessupunderthatkindofpressure.Ihatedfeelingthatway
andIwasdoingexactlythattoFreya.

“Whatdidyouassume?Talktome,Freya,”Isaidagain.EventhoughIdidn’twantto

talk—I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss the hell out of her, make her stay. I
wasn’tsurethatwaswhatshewantedanymore,though.

“Thetruth?”shesaidsoftly.

Inodded,gutsuddenlyinknots.

“Ithinkit’sobviousthatI’mattractedtoyou.I’vefeltthatwayfromthemomentIsaw

yourpicture.IlookedatyourfaceandI…I…”Sheclearedherthroat.“Iwantedtogetto
knowyou.Ifeltaconnectiontoyou.”

I’dfeltthesamewayabouther.

She blinked, and another tear streaked down her cheek. “I already feel like I know

you,Beau.Idon’tneedtimetobesuremyfeelingsforyouarereal.IthoughtI’dgethere
and”—she turned scarlet—“we’d spent the first few days in bed. I thought you’d be as
desperateformeasIamforyou,butyou’renot,andthat’sokay.It’snotyourfault.You
can’thelpthewayyoufeel.You’vedoneabsolutelynothingwrong.JustbecauseIfeelit,
doesn’tmeanyoudo.Butthisjustfeels…strange.IfeellikeI’mvisitingastranger, not
my…boyfriend,nottheguyI’vethoughtaboutconstantlyformonths.”

Shereallyhadnoidea?Howcouldshenotseethewaysheaffectedme?Itookastep

forward,myhandscomingdownharderthanI’dintendedonthebencheithersideofher
thighs.

Sheblinkedatmeagain,eyeswide.

IwantedhersobadIwasinconstantpain.“Youdon’tthinkIwantyou?”Iforcedout

pastmytightthroat.

Sheshookherhead.

“I’ve been hard for you since you showed up. Christ, Freya, I’ve been hard for you

sincewestartedtalkingsixmonthsago.I’msorryforthemixedsignals.I’vegoneabout
thisallwrong.I’ve…”Shit. I couldn’t tell her I’d been secretly interviewing her for the
positionofMrs.BeauSmith,andlookingathernow,IfeltlikeanassholeforthewayI’d
gone about it. She knew what I wanted, how I felt about love and relationships, but she
had no clue this was some idiotic test. No, I didn’t want some big love—that only ever
ended in disaster—and yes, I wanted a woman who could thrive out here with me, but
whoever I married, we needed to have chemistry, and I felt that with Freya in goddamn
spades.Ididn’tknowhowtogetthatacrosstoher,soinsteadIrasped,“Idon’twantyou
togo.”

“Areyousure?”shesaid,voicesoft,withalittlehuskthatliftedgoosebumpsovermy

skin.

Iplacedmyhandsonherkneesandspreadherthighs,soIcouldfillthespace.“Christ,

Freya, I want you so damn bad I can’t think straight. I’ve tried to take things slow, I
thoughtthatwaswhatwasbestforus,butdon’twantthatanymore,”Isaid.

Mymouthwasaninchfromhers.

Herbreathcameinshortpants.“Youdon’t?”

Ishookmyhead.“Fuckno.”Ithrustmyfingersinherhair,groaningatthesoftnessof

it against my skin, and closed the gap between us. My mouth came down on hers and I
groanedagain,allthepent-uphungerIhadforherslammingthroughmelikeatidalwave
sointenseithadtheabilitytoknockmeonmyass.

Herhandswenttomysidesandshefistedthefabricofmyshirt,pullingmecloser.My

dickwasanironbar,hotandpulsingasIslidahanddownherback,yankedherforward
onthebench,andgroundmyerectionagainsther.

Shegaspedagainstmylips.“Beau…”

Thewayshesaidmynameonlyampedmehigher,andthewayIwasfeeling,Ihadno

ideahowthatwaspossible.I’dneverbeenmoreturnedoninmylife.“Youwetforme?”I
mutteredagainstherlips.“Thatpussyreadyforme,honey?”

Oneofherhandsshoveddownthebackofmypantsandshedughernailsintomyass.

Shewhimpered.“Yes,God,soready.”

“I want to feel it. Are you going to let me feel it, Freya?” I had no control over the

wordscomingoutofmymouthatthispoint.Ijustwantedher.Now.

“Yes,”sherasped.

I shoved one of my hands down the front of her tights and cupped her pussy. Her

pantiesweresoaked.Jesus.Yankingthemaside,Ifinallytouchedher.Ahissslidthrough
myteethatjusthowhotandwetshewas.

“So many things, Freya, so many things I’ve imagined doing to you while I stroked

mycocktoyourpicture.Itdidn’thelp,justmademewantyoumore.”

Shewhimperedagain.

“Didyoutouchyourselfthinkingaboutme?Wishingitwasme?Imaginingitwasme

gettingyouoff?”Isaid,controlgonenow,shattered.

“Yes,”shesaid.

Myhipspunchedforwardatherreply.“JesusChrist.Canyoufeelthat?Canyoufeel

howmuchIwantyou?Don’teverdoubtthat,Freya,neverthat.”Ipushedafingerintoher
tightpussyandwatchedherheaddropback,andherlipspartonamoan.“I’mgoingto
makeyoucome,honey,sohard,thenI’mgoingtoshowyouexactlyhowbadIwantyou.”

Islidmythumboverherstiff,slicklittleclit,thencircleditwhileIworkedher,sliding

in nice and deep. I needed to see more of her, so I yanked her shirt down at the front,
hooking it under her tits, and growled at the way her bra barely contained all she had
goingon.Ishoveddownoneofthecupsandcursedwhenhercreamybreast,tippedwitha
darkpinknipple,poppedfree.

“Jesus,lookatyou,”Igrittedout.“Soperfect.”Iloweredmyheadandpressedmylips

toherpaleskin,breathinginthescentofherskin,andthenfinallysuckinghersmallhard
nippleintomymouth.Shecriedout,herfingersthrustingintomyhair,fisting,holdingme
therelikeshethoughtI’dpullaway.Likehell.

Iaddedasecondfinger,fuckingherfaster,andgotserious—nomoreteasingherclit.I

pressed down on it, flicking and rubbing. She cried out at the same time I felt her
tighteningaroundmyfingers.

Andthenshewascoming,callingmyname.Shefistedmyhairtighteranddraggedmy

head to hers, giving me the hottest fucking kiss of my life, her tongue thrusting against
mine in time with the pulsing of her pussy and the agonizing throb along my painfully
hardcock.

Herhandsdroppedtothefrontofmypantswhilewecontinuedtoeatateachother’s

mouths.

“Ineedyou,”shesaidagainstmylips.

NotasmuchasIneedyou.

“Beau!Yououthere?”someonecalledfromoutsidethebarn.

Ifroze.

“Beau,man,youhere?”

Iknewthatvoice:afriendofminefromEaglewood.WhatIdidn’tknowwaswhythe

hellhewasherenow.Icursed,pullingback,andlookeddownatFreya,whowasflushed
butfullyalertandscramblingofftheworkbench.

“Sorry,”Isaidtoher.“Ineedtogoseewhathewants.”

Sheflusheddarker.“Ofcourse.”

Christ,Iwantedinsideher.

Thedoortothebarnopenedbeforewecouldreachit.

Ed’sgazelandedonmethenslidtoFreya,thenshotbacktome.

“Whatareyoudoingouthere,Ed?”

Edshiftedfromfoottofoot,lookingantsyashell.“It’stheoldman.Ineedyourhelp.”

Withthosetwosentences,Iwasonfullalert.“Whathappened?”

“Wewereoutherehunting.Heslippeddownabankandbustedhisankle.Ineedhelp

gettinghimout.”

Iwasalreadywalkingtowardhim.“Ofcourse.Letmegetmystuffandwe’llheadout.

We’llswingovertoHank’sandgrabhimaswell,”Isaid,stridingforthehouse.Irushed
upstairs,changed,loadedmypackwithsuppliesincasewewereoutallnight,andshoved
backonmyboots.

Freyawasstandingbythedoor,lookingworried.Istoppedinfrontofher.“Iwantyou

tostayhere,stayinside,okay?”

Shenodded.

“I’mnotsurewhattimeI’llbeback,sodon’twaitup.”Ileanedinandkissedherlips,

stillswollenfromourmake-outsessioninthebarn.

She curled her fingers around my wrist when I started to walk away. I stopped and

turnedback.

“Becareful,Beau.”

Idippedmychinandwalkedout,andasIdid,Icouldn’tignorethefeelingunfurling

inmygut.Ididn’tknowwhatitwas—couldn’tnameit—Ijustknewitfeltgood,really
fuckinggood.

KnowingthatFreyawouldbetherewhenIgothome…Ilikedit.

Ilikeditawholelot.

FREYA

STARTLED

AWAKE

Sittingup,Ishovedmyhairfrommyeyesandlookedaroundthedarklivingroom.I

waswondering what wokeme when Iheard a howl inthe distance. Awolf, or maybe a
coyote?Ihadnoidea,onlythatthesoundwashairraising.

Thehousearoundmewassilent.Beauwasn’tbackyet.Ididn’tneedtomovefrommy

spotonthecouchtoknowthat.Ilookedattheclockinthekitchen.5:00a.m.

Istoodandflickedonsomelights.TherewasnowayIwasgoingbacktosleep.Not

nowthatIwasawakeandstartingtoworry.WhatifBeauhadbeenhurt?Therewerewild
animalsoutthere.Ididn’tknowwhattodo.HowlongIshouldwaituntilIcalledforhelp?

Itwasmidmorning,andIwasacompletemess,bythetimeBeaufinallygothome.I

couldseehimthroughthewindow,walkingtowardthehouse.Hehadhisguninonehand,
theotherswinginglooseathisside.Hisbig,solid,muscledbodymovedwithpurpose,in
a way that was sure and confident. He was comfortable in his surroundings, in his own
skin.

Thesightwasmesmerizing.

But as he got closer I could also see that he was covered in cuts and scrapes, his

clothesmuddyandtorninseveralplaces.

Iyankedthedooropenandrushedoutashewalkedupthesteps.“OhmyGod,what

happenedtoyou?”

He trudged through the door. “I’m fine. I had to climb down a ravine to get to Ed’s

father.Itwashardergettinghimupthanwethought.He’dfracturedhisarm.Luckily,we
hadHankthereaswelltohelphaulhimup.”

I rested my hands on his chest, my heart going a million miles an hour. “I hate that

there’s no goddamn cell service out here. I was worried out of my mind. I was positive
you’dbeeneatenbywildanimalsorsomething.”

Helookeddownatmeandcuppedthesideofmyface.“Weknowwhatwe’redoing.

We were safe the whole time. I promise you, I’d never take any unnecessary risks. We
wereraisedouthere;weknowbetter.”

I nodded, but I knew it would take a little longer to get over the fear I was feeling.

“Whydon’tyougohaveanicehotshowerandI’llmakeyousomethingtoeat?”

Heleanedin,pressinghislipstomine.Theyfeltcool.“Yeah,IthinkIwill.”

Thenheheadedupstairs,andIwatchedhimgo,forcingmyselftostayputandnotrush

afterhim.Playingitcoolwasn’taseasyasIthought,especiallyafterlastnight.

Whenhecamebackdownalittlelater,hewaswearingsweatpantsandathin,softT-

shirtthatstretchedacrosshischest.Hisfeetwerebare,andhishairwasstilldamp.The
manwasperfection.Iwantedtostriphimnakedandfinishwhatwe’dstartedinthebarn.

Iturnedbacktothestoveandflippedapancake.TheonethingIknewhowtocook,

anditnotendatotaldisaster.

“Smells good,” Beau said as he came up behind me, nuzzling the spot between my

neckandshoulder.Hisbeardtickled,liftinggoosebumpsacrossmyskin.“Pancakesdon’t
smelltoobadeither.”

I grinned, trying to be all cool and collected when my heart was racing like crazy.

“They’ll be ready soon. Go sit down and rest, and I’ll bring you a plate when they’re
ready.”

HekissedthesideofmythroatandIshivered.“AssoonasI’veeatenmypancakes,

I’meatingyou,”hesaidagainstmyskin.

His voice was rough, sexy, and I could feel him getting hard against my butt. I

shiveredwhenhekissedmeonemoretimebeforewalkingaway.

Somehow,Iremainedstandinganddidn’tdissolveintoapuddleonthekitchenfloor.

WhenIwalkedinwithhisfoodashorttimelater,hewasstretchedoutonthecouch,

long,solidbodyonfulldisplay,onehandbehindhishead,onerestingonhisbelly,bare
feetcrossedattheankles.

Andhewasasleep.

Idecidednottowakehim.He’dbeenoutallnightandwasobviouslyexhausted.Iput

the rest of the pancakes in the fridge as quietly as I could and went upstairs to have a
shower. When I came back down, he was still out cold. His face was relaxed, his dark
eyelashesrestingonhischeeks.Helookedsoyummylyingthere,soinviting.

Thecouchwaswideandtherewasalittleroomdownbesidehim.

Screwit.

Iclimbedonwithhimandwrappedmyarmaroundhisbelly.Ihadn’tsleptgreatlast

nighteither,andwiththeheatofhisbodyradiatingthroughmyclothes,Istartedtodrift
offafewshortminuteslater.

Ididn’tfightit.

WAS

STILL

HALF

ASLEEP

WHEN

REALIZED

THE

HEAT

WARMING

BUTT

WAS

HAND

Strongfingersflexed,squeezingmyampleflesh,followedbyagroan.Ihearditaswellas
feltit,thestrongchestundermycheekvibratingfromthelow,sexysound.

Ittookalittleeffort,butIliftedmyhead,expectingtofindBeaustaringdownatme.

He wasn’t; he was still asleep. He was also shockingly hard and, I realized, commando
underthosegraysweatpants.Thefatswollenheadofhiscockhadactuallypushedpastthe
waistbandofhispants.

OhmyGod.

Hewaslongandthick,andbeautiful.

Hisshirthadliftedupandhistightabs,whichweredustedlightlywithdarkhair,were

clenched.Ifollowedthesexytrailthatledtheeyerightdown—tohisgorgeouscock—and
bitbackamoan.

BeauSmithwasdefinitelyallman.Itookamomenttoadmirehisamazingbody.His

long legs and thick, solid thighs. His wide muscled chest and biceps, those corded
forearms.Icouldseethroughhisworn-thinshirtthathischestwasalsodustedwithhair,
more than his belly. I’d never been up close and personal with a guy who hadn’t
manscaped,andIwassurprisedathowhotIfoundit.

IsqueezedmythighstogetherasItookinhisthickneck,hisbeardcoveringasquare

jaw. I wanted to touch it. I lifted my hand and gently cupped his cheek, a shiver sliding
thoughmeathowsurprisinglysoftitwas.Mygazemovedtohisstrongnose,higher…

Hiseyeswereopen,andhewaswatchingme.Hewasalsogrinning.

Myfaceheated.

“Hey,”herumbled.

I dropped my head to his chest to hide my face. “Sorry, I just…” What? There was

nothing I could say, no lie he would believe. It was obvious what I was doing. Being a
giantpervwhileheslept.

“Icouldgetusedtowakinguplikethis,yoursoftcurvespressedupagainstmyside,

workingyourselfuplookingatme.”Ifelthisfingersshiftmyhair.“Don’tapologizefor
that,Freya.”

I kept my head where it was and worked at finding my courage. It was surprisingly

easylyingagainstBeau.ItcertainlyhelpedknowinghowmuchIaffectedhim.

Idroppedmyhandtohisexposedbellyandfeltaswellasheardhimsuckinabreath.

“Whatwereyoudreamingabout?”Iasked.“Youweremoaninginyoursleep.”

“Youhavetoask?”hesaid,voicerougher.

Ipushedhisshirthigherandshimmieddownalittle.Liftingmyeyestohis,Ipressed

mymouthtothatexposedstripoftanskin.

Anotherroughsound.“Freya…”

I kissed him again, lower this time, my lips only a few inches from the head of his

hardcock.Itglistened,wasdarkand,God,mademymouthwaterjustlookingatit.“Are
youinpain?”

“Yes,”hegrittedout,knowingexactlywhatIwasreferringto.

I slid down more, and one of his solid thighs shifted, his foot dropping to the floor,

makingroomforme.“Letmemakeitbetterforyou.”

HegroanedasIkissedandsuckedtheskinbelowhisbellybutton,soclosenow.

Hishipsjerkedupandhishandslidintomyhair.“Youdon’thavetodothat,”hesaid.

“Imean…Idon’texpect…”

His voice trailed off when my chin bumped that swollen, glistening head. “I don’t

makeahabitofdoingthingsIdon’twantto,”Isaid.

Everyoneofhisexhaleswasrough,uneven.“No?”

“No,”Iwhispered,lookingupathimandholdinghishalf-liddedgaze.

I felt his fingers tighten in my hair and his nostrils flared with his sharp indrawn

breath.“Thensuckme.Christ,Freya,Ineedyoutosuckmycock.”

A shiver slid through me at the need I heard in his vice, the way his hips came up

again,seekingmeout.Igrippedthewaistbandofhispantsandslidthemdown,moaning
softlyandlickingmylipswhenhisbeautifulcocksprangfree.

Beaugrowledandyankedhisshirtoffoverhishead,flingingittothefloor.Ithought

hewasgorgeousbefore,butwithhisbodybareinfrontofme,Ifoundithardtobreathe.
Everymusclewashardandtight,likehewascarvedfrommountainrock.Myeyeslifted
backtohis,andBeaulookedasclosetotheedgeasanymanI’deverseen.

“I’mgoingtofuckingdieifIdon’tfeelyourmouthonme,Freya,”hesaidinavoice

solowandgrittyIfeltitlikeavelvetycaressbetweenmythighs.

Hiscockwasangledup,restingonhisstomach,soIwrappedmyfingersaroundthe

base,standingituprightwhileIbentoverhimandtookhimintomymouth.

“Fuck,”Beaubitout.

Ididn’tbotherwithteasingortakingitslow.Themanwasinpainandmygoalwasto

gethimoff,toeasetheachehewasfeeling.Isuckedhimbackniceanddeep,runningmy
tongue along the thick vein on the underside, sucking harder when I dragged my mouth
backupandonlytheheadwasbetweenmylips.

BothhishandswereinmyhairandIfelthimgatheringitup,wrappingitaroundhis

fist, getting it out of the way so he could watch. I cupped his balls and his legs spread
widerforme,givingmemoreroom.HelikedwhatIwasdoing,andGod,thatmademe
feelgood.SinceIgothereI’dgotteneverythingwrong.ButIknewitwouldbelikethis.I
knewthisconnectionbetweenuswasn’tsomethingI’dimagined.

Ifonlywe’dstartedwiththis,ifonlyhe’dtakenmetobedthatfirstnight,hewouldn’t

befeelingthedoubtsaboutmethatIsuspectedhewas.

Iusedmyhandintimewithmymouth,strokinghimasIincreasedmyspeed.

“Jesus.Christ.Freya…”MyeyesliftedtohisasIworkedhim.Hisjawwastight,blue

eyesglazedandhot,andwhentheylockedonmine,hishipsjerkedupagain,pushinghis
cockdeeperintomymouth.“Gonnacome…sohard…pullawayifyoudon’twantit,”he
said,thengroaned.

NowaywasIpullingaway.

Whenhesawthatforhimselfhecursed,alowrawsoundburstingfromhismouth,and

then he started coming, his cock pulsing against my tongue, shooting down my throat. I
swallowed,notbreakingeyecontactwithhimthewholetime.

He’d lifted to his elbows and he kept his eyes on me, too, breath hard and fast as I

continuedtosuckhimuntilhesoftenedinmymouth,watchingasIlickedhimclean.

Finally,Iliftedmyhead,lettinghissoftdickrestagainsthisstomach.

Histonguedartedout,swipingacrosshislowerlip.“Pantsoff,Freya,now.”

Iknewmyeyeswidenedcomicallywhenhislipscurledupattheside,andhegaveme

thatsexygrinofhis.

Ididn’tcarehowridiculousIlooked,Iwantedhimtotouchme,badly.Iquicklydidas

he said. I was hot and achy, and I wanted whatever was about to happen. I assumed we
weregoingtokiss,thathe’dusehisfingersonmeuntilIcamelikewhenwewereinthe
barn.Butthenhegrabbedmyhips,holdingmeupashesliddownthecouch,sohewas
flatonhisback.

“Sitonmyface,”hegrowled.“Now,honey.Ineedtotasteyou.Right.Fucking.Now.”

DearGod.HeatcurledinmylowerbellyasIshimmiedhigher,hisstronggriponmy

hipsmovingmewherehewantedme.Thenhislips,hismouth,histongue,werethere.

Webothgroaned.

Oneofhishandswenttomybottomandhisfingersdugintomyfleshasheslidhis

tonguethroughmypussy.Icouldn’tstopfromgrindingmyselfagainsthim.Iwasworked
upfromwhatI’ddonetohim,alreadyclosetocoming.Histonguedippedinsidemeand
swirled,andIcriedout.Perfecttorture.

Ineededmore,somuchmore,andeveryswipeofhistonguedrovemehigher.Beau’s

eyes were closed as he ate at me, an expression on his face that made me feel like his
favorite meal. My hands went to my breasts, unable to stop myself, and I pinched my
nipplesthroughmyshirtwhileIrolledmyhips.

Hiseyesopenedatthesoundofmythroatymoan,andwhenhesawwhatIwasdoing

to myself he growled again then wrapped his lips around my needy clit and alternated
betweenflickingitwithhistongueandsucking.

Myheaddroppedback,andIscreamed,comingsohardmyheadspun.Beau’sstrong

handsheldmeupasIlostcontrolcompletely,andwhenthelastwavewashedoverme,he
repositionedme.Ilethim,notanounceofenergyleftinmybody.

Ifelthishandsbackinmyhair.Thistimetheyweregentle,soothing.

Ididn’tevenfightit—IwentbacktosleepwrappedinBeau’sarms.

TheonlyplaceIwantedtobe.

BEAU

REYA

HAD

TOLD

me during one of our conversations that she used to go rabbit hunting

withherunclewhenshewasakidandhowmuchsheenjoyedit.Idecidedadaydoing
somethingIknewshelikedwouldmakeupforourrockystart.

Then I planned on taking her home, carrying her up to bed, and finally fucking her.

We’d been enjoying each other the last couple of days, not taking it any farther than
making each other come with hands and mouths, but I didn’t want to wait anymore.
Honestly,Ididn’tthinkIcould.I’dneverwantedawomanthewayIdidFreya.

Ilookeddownather.Shewaswalkingbesideme,eyesdartingaroundthewoods.

I frowned. She looked a little on edge, or maybe that was just the way she looked

whenshewenthunting.HowthehellwouldIknow?Iwantedtoknow,though.Iwanted
toknoweverythingIcouldabouther.

A vision of her and I doing this in the future, maybe a couple of kids at our sides,

flashed through my mind. A family hunting trip, working together to get the meat we
neededforthewinter,workinginthegardenIplannedtogetstartednowthehousewas
finished.Livingagoodlifewithacapablepartneratmyside.

Mywife.

And when we finished a long day working on the property, I’d climb in the shower

withherandmakehercomesohardshe’dneverregretmarryingme,forchoosingtogo
backtothekindoflifeshe’dhadgrowingup—forchoosingme.

MaybeIwasgettingaheadofmyself,butaftertalkingtoherformonths,thenthelast

fewdaystogether,let’sjustsayIknewweweremorethancompatibleinallthewaysthat
counted.IcaredaboutFreya.Ilikedbeingwithher,spendingtimewithher…listeningto
herscreamwithmyheadburiedbetweenherthighs.

“So,didyourdadteachyoutohunt?”Freyaasked,jarringmefrommythoughts.

Good thing too, considering the direction they were going. “Yeah, he bought me my

firstgunwhenIwaseight.Wespentalotoftimeoutheretogether.”

“Youmustmisshimalot,”shesaid.

Iheldabranchbackinourpathandwaitedforhertopass.“Mydadwasanamazing

guyandagreatteacher.HetaughtHankandIeverythingweknowaboutthislife.Losing
him the way we did…” He’d fallen and broken his leg while out hunting. The cold had

takenhimbeforehewasfound.Iclearedmythroat.Itstillhurttothisday.“Hewasjust
largerthanlife,youknow?”

She touched my arm. “Helping rescue your friend’s father, that must have brought

backsomepainfulmemories,”shesaidsoftly.

I’dtoldheraboutmydadandmyparents’breakupduringourtalks.“Iwasjustgladto

help,” I said, not wanting to get into it, or my feelings. I’d avoided them since my dad
passedawaywhenIwasakid.Iwasn’tabouttodredgethemupnow.

“Youdothatalot,don’tyou?Wheneveryou’dcall,therewasalwayssomeoneyou’d

beenhelpingout.”Shegavemyarmanothersqueeze.“You’reagoodguy,Beau.”

Looking down into her soft green eyes, seeing that sincere expression on her face—

shit,ithitmeinawayIdidn’tknowhowtodealwith.I’dfelttheoppositeaboutmyself
for so long I didn’t know what to say. So, I did what I usually did, and changed the
subject.

“Whatwereyourparentslike?”Iasked.“I’llbetyourdadwasoneofthoseprotective

types.Beautifuldaughterlikeyou,hemust’vebeenscaringawayboysallthetime.”

Hereyesthatweregentleandfullofemotionwentblank.Itwasonlyforamoment,

butIdidn’tmissit.“Myparentswere…distant.Youcouldevengoasfarassayingcold.
I’mnotreallysurewhytheychosetohaveachild.”Shesmiled,butitlookedforced.“At
least they weren’t on my case all the time.” She laughed, and again it sounded forced.
“ThethingsIgotupto,parentslikeminewereateenagegirl’sdream.”

“Doyoutalkoften?”

“Theydivorcedafewyearsback.Italktomydadmaybeacoupleoftimesayear,my

mom a little more often.” She screwed up her face. “I guess her calls will be even less
frequentnow.”Freyaglancedatme.“She’sjoinedanaturistcommune.Apparently,she’s
throwingofftheshacklesofherpast,andthatdoesn’tjustincludeclothes.”

Christ. I got the feeling she was downplaying just how awful her life had been

growingup.God,justimaginingherbeingbroughtuplikethat,howaloneshemusthave
felt,didsomethingtome,ignitedsomethingrawandprimalinsideme.Ifeltprotectiveof
her.Shit,possessive.

Somethingelse,somethingdeeper.

Istruggledfortherightthingtosay.“I’msorry,”Isaid,whichwaspatheticunderthe

circumstances, but all I had. “You’d said you weren’t really close to your parents, but I
didn’trealizeitwasthatbad.”

Sheshrugged.“Could’vebeenworse.”

Iwasabouttopullhertoastopandkissthefrownfromherlipswhenarabbitdarted

acrossoutpath.

I stilled. “Look, just over there,” I said, and tilted my head in the rabbit’s direction.

“Youtakethefirstone.”

Hereyeswidened,andshebitherlip.“Um,right,okay.”Sheliftedthegun,holdingit

awkwardly.

“Safety’sstillon,”Isaid.

“Oh…yeah,ofcourse.”Thenshestaredatthegun,shiftingfromfoottofoot.

I reached over and pointed to what she was looking for. “You’ve shot a gun before,

right,Freya?Youhuntedwithyouruncleallthetime?”

“Yes…yep.Iusedadifferentgunisall,”shesaid,notlookingatme.

Ipointedtomovementinthelonggrass.“You’regoodtogo.Pointandshoot.”

SheliftedthegunandIturnedtohertarget.Therabbitchosethatmomenttohopout,

leavingthecoverofthegrass.

Thegunwentoff.Freyamissedtherabbitcompletely,theshotgoingwide.Iturnedto

her,butshewasn’tstandingbesideme.Shewasflatonherback,thegunontheground
besideher.Herhandwascoveringhereyeandshewasinobviouspain.

“Shit.”Irushedovertoher.“Youokay?”

SheshookherheadandIcouldseeherthroatworking.God,shewasgoingtocry.I

couldn’thandleanymoretears.

“Let me look,” I said, and carefully lifted her hand. I winced. “You’ve got some

seriousscopebitethere.”

“Scopebite?”

Ihelpedhertoherfeet.“Whenwasthelasttimeyoushotagun?”

Shedidn’tanswer.

“I’mguessingawhile?”Iasked.

Shenodded.

“Let’sheadbacktothehouse,putsomeiceonthat.”

So,shewasn’tthebestshot.Yeah,Iwassurprisedafterwhatshe’dtoldme,butshe’d

livedinthecityforawhilenow.IhadnoideaifI’dlosesomeoftheskillsIhadifIwas
away from home as long as she was. When I left the mountain it wasn’t for that long,
certainlynotyears,soI’dnevertestedthetheory.

Islunganarmaroundhershouldersaswewalkedbacktothehouse.“Ithappenstoa

lotofpeople,youknowthat,right?”

Sheturnedtome.“Hasiteverhappenedtoyou?”

Igrinneddownather.“Nope.”

Sheelbowedmeintheside.“Noonelikesashow-off,”shesaid,teasing,buttherewas

somethinginhereyesIdidn’tget,somethingthathadmefightingafrown.

Wegothome,andFreyawasonthecouchwithsomeicewhenHank’struckrolledup

tothehouse.Hewalkedupthestepsandshovedthedooropenwithoutknocking,likehe
alwaysdid,beforeIhadachancetostophim.

HepulledupshortwhenhespottedFreya.Hisheadswiveledtome,thenbackagain.

Shejumpedtoherfeet,ahugesmileonherface,andwalkedovertohim.“Hank,it’s

sonicetomeetyou!Beau’stoldmesomuchaboutyouandBirdieandthegirls,Ifeellike
I already know you all. And they way you two met, wow. So romantic.” She shook her
head.“WhenBeausaidhewasanidenticaltwinIexpectedyoutobethesame,butnotthe
spittingimage.Well,exceptforthefactthatyou’realittle,um…”

“Bigger?”Hankmuttered.

Freya turned pink, and, damn, she looked pretty, so pretty I was momentarily

distractedbywhatwasgoingonorwhatwasabouttohappen.

“Well…yes,”Freyasaid,thenshegrabbedoneofhishandswithbothofhers,givingit

asqueeze.“NotthatBeauisn’tbig.He’s…”Sheglancedatme.“Well,lookathim.”She
blushedharder.“Anyway,it’ssonicetomeetyou.”

Hankwasalittlebetterwiththeoppositesexsincehe’dmetandfallenforBirdie,but

hewasn’tusedtowomenrandomlytouchinghim,andhe’donlyjustfiguredouthowto
talktothem.Well,ifitinvolvedmorethantwowordshestillleftittoBirdieorme.

So, I wasn’t surprised when my brother took an abrupt step back and looked at me.

“Whoisthis?”

Christ.SometimesIwonderedifhewasdroppedonhisheadasababy.Tactlessprick.

I cleared my throat. “This is Freya.” I stared him down, willing him to play along, that
some of that twin magic people talked about would suddenly kick in and he’d read my
mind.“Youremember,Itoldyouabouther.”

Hank frowned, his heavy brows dropping low, and I knew I was screwed. “No, you

didn’t.You’venevermentionedher.”

Freya’s face turned bright red. “Oh…well, this is, um, awkward.” She took several

stepsbackandturnedtome.“Youdidn’ttellhimaboutme?”

Irubbedthebackofmyneck.WhatthehellcouldIsay?“Iwaswaitinguntil…Imean,

IguessIwantedto…”Fuck.EverythingIsaidmademesoundlikeabiggerasshole.

Sheliftedahand,stoppingmyverbaldiarrhea.“It’sfine,really.Itotallyunderstand.

I’mjust…I’mgoingtoheadupstairsandleaveyouguystoit.”SheturnedbacktoHank.
“Itwasnicetomeetyou.”

I wasn’t the best at reading emotions, but Freya was not fine. She was hurt that I’d

keptherasecret,andIdidn’tblameher.I’dmessedup.

Hank’s gaze darted between us, and he looked uncomfortable as hell, the situation

finallysinkingintohisthickskull.

Freyarushedupstairs.

“Dammit,Hank,”Igrittedoutwhenshewasgone.

My brother crossed his arms. “How the hell was I supposed to know you’d lied to

somewoman?Ican’treadyourmind.”

“Noshit,”Imuttered.“Youalsolackbasicgoddamnsocialskills.Howthehelldoes

Birdieputupwithyou?”

Hanksmirked.“Imakeitworthherwhile.”

I was beyond happy that my brother had found the woman of his dreams, but right

thenthewomanofminethoughtIcaredsolittleaboutherthatI’dkeptherasecretfrom
mybrother.No,Ihadn’ttoldhim,butIwasn’tkeepingherasecret,Ijust…Hankwouldn’t
understandwhatthiswas,whatIwanted.

“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Isaidtohim.Ididn’thavetimeforsmalltalk.Ineededto

gosmooththingsoverwithFreya.

Hank shrugged his big shoulders. “Birdie told me to ask you over for dinner.” He

glancedatthestairs.“Youcanask…”Hankfrowned.

“Freya,”Ibitout.

Hankscratchedhisbeard.“Yeah,youcanbringheralong,too.”

Ishookmyhead.“ThankBirdiefortheoffer,butI’llhavetopassthistime.”

Hankshruggedagain.“Moreforme.”Heheadedforthedoorthenstoppedandturned

backtome.“Youcareabouther,aboutFreya?”

Myfingerscurledintofists,butIdidmybesttoappearasrelaxedaspossible,when

thatquestionstruckmeinawayIwasn’tpreparedfor.“Yes,ofcourse.”

Hankfrownedagain.“Whydidn’tyoutellmeabouther?”

“Iwouldhave,”Isaid,hatingthetwistinmygut.Ihadn’tplannedto.I’dplannedto

waitandseehowthisvisitwentbeforeImentionedhertomybrother.

Hankstaredatmeforawhile,likehewastryingtomentallypenetratemybrainfor

thetruth.Finally,henodded.Iwasn’tsurehebelievedme.

Wesaidourgoodbyesandhewalkedout.

Assoonasthedoorclosed,Istrodefromthelivingroomandtookthestairstwoata

time. Freya knew what this was, she knew this mini vacation was all about getting to
know one another better, making sure we were compatible. But she’d looked genuinely
hurt.AndthelastthingIwantedtodowashurther.

TheroomI’dgivenhertousewascloseduptight.“Freya?”

“I’mjustgettingchanged,”shecalledout.

I stood there, staring at her closed door, listening to her moving around on the other

side. “Look, about what happened down there. I never told Hank about you because…”
Shit. “I, ah…I thought you knew what this was, what we were doing here. If that’s
changed,ifyou’vechangedyourmindaboutwhatyouwant…”

“Ihaven’t,”shesaid,hervoicemuffled.

Thedooropened,andIsteppedback,thinkingshe’dwalkout.Shedidn’t.Shestood

there in a towel, hair damp from the quick shower she’d obviously just had. My mouth
startedmoving,butnowordswerecomingout.

Shetuckedherhairbehindherear.“ButIthinkthere’sonethingwe’veyettotry…

you know, for compatibility’s sake,” she said, her voice huskier than usual, her face

flushedfromthehotwatershe’dbeenstandingunder.

Bloodpumpedtomycock,andIwashardinamatterofseconds.“Yeah,what’sthat?”

Ichokedout.

She let go of the towel she was holding at her chest, and it dropped to the floor,

poolingatherfeet.Shestoodthereinfrontofme,completelynaked.“Ithinkweneedto
fuck,Beau,beforewemakeanymajordecisions.”

MymouthwentdryasIateupthesightofher.I’dseenherpussy,hertits,whenI’d

gottenheroff,butnotallatonce,andshewasmorebeautifulthanIcouldhaveimagined.

“I think that’s pretty important between a husband and wife, don’t you?” she said,

voicesofternow.

Itriedtokeepmyshittogether.Itriedtoregainmycontrol,buttherewasnoreiningit

in.Insteadofliftingheroffherfeetandcarryinghertomybed,Ichargedherlikeabull
goingafteraredflag.

FREYA

EAU

’

BODY

connectedwithmine,hisarmscomingaroundmelikealinebackeraboutto

takedownanopponent.Butinsteadofhittingthefloor,Iwasliftedinhisarmsandthrown
overhisbroadshoulder.Isquealedinsurpriseashespunaround,walkedoutthedoor,and
strodedownthehalltohisbedroom.Hekeptwalkinguntilhereachedhisbed.

Mybodyhithismattressasecondlater.

Beau stared down at me as he reached back, grabbed his shirt, dragged it over his

head,andflungitaside.“FirsttimeIfuckyou,it’sgonnabeinmybed.”

His expression was—God, it was fierce. The muscles in his chest rippled, his eyes

flashing.Ilookedupathiminstunnedsilence.IhadnoreplyandIdidn’tbothertryingto
formonebecauseIwasmorethanhappywiththat.

Maybethiswasaterribleidea.Hehadn’ttoldhisbrotheraboutme,notonceinallthe

timeweweretalking.Ishouldhavestoppedthisrightthen,beforeIreallygothurt.But
even as those thoughts flew through my mind I knew I wasn’t going to. I already loved
him,andifIdidn’ttryeverythinginmypowertogethimtolovemeback,I’dregretitfor
therestofmylife.

Ialsowantedhim,morethananyothermanI’deverbeenwith.IfthiswasallIgot,

thesetwoweekswithhim,Iwantedtopackinalifetime.Iwantedtogivehimallofme,
becauseIknewdeepdownIwouldneverloveanyonethewayIdidBeau.

Heshoveddownhispants,kickingthemaside,andIsuckedinasharpbreathatthe

sightofhimstandingthere,nakedandmuscled.Haironhischest,solidthighs,hiscock
thickandlongandsoharditstoodupagainsthistightabs.Allman.Wild.

Mine.

Forthenexttwoweeks,anyway.

He prowled toward me, nostrils flaring, muscles bunching, half-lidded intensity. He

didn’thesitate;heclimbedonthebed,coveringmewithhisbigbody.

“BeenwantinginsideyousincethefirsttimeIsawyourpicture,Freya.Ithoughtyou

werethemostbeautifulwomanI’deverseen.”

Thewayhesaidmyname—God,itwasfullofownership,possessiveness.Therewas

nomistakingthenotetohisvoiceforanythingelse.

He shook his head, a look of astonishment on his face. “Christ, woman, you’re too

goodtobetrue.”

HeusedoneofhisthighstospreadmineandamoanslippedpastmylipswhenIhad

allhisweight.

Hiseyesturnedintense.“Areyou,areyoutoogoodtobetrue,Freya?”hesaid,low

andrough.

I wasn’t. I was a fraud. My gaze dropped to his mouth because I couldn’t hold that

intensestare,notwhenguiltwasgnawingatmeovertheliesI’dtoldhim.Iwasn’twhohe
thoughtIwas,andIneededtotellhimthetruth,butIwasafraid,afraidI’dlosehimas
soonasIdid.

His fingers slid under my chin and he tilted my head back, making me look at him.

“Freya?”

He hadn’t missed that I’d gone silent, that there was something on my mind. I

should’vecomecleanrightthen,butinsteadIsaid,“Ifeelthesamewayaboutyou.”That
atleastwasthetruth.

His growl vibrated thought his chest to mine. “It’s been a long time for me, and the

way I want you…” He shook his head, jaw tightening. “I can’t go slow, can’t draw this
out,notwithyou,notthistime,”hesaid.

Mybackarched,mythighsmovingrestlesslyagainsthis.“Ijustwantyouinsideme.”

He cursed before his lips came down on mine, giving me a hot, hard kiss. Breath

puffedfromhisnoselikeanangrybullasheattackedmymouth,histonguetanglingwith
mine,hisgroansvibratingthroughme.MyhandsdroppedtohismuscledassandIground
upagainsthim,wantingmore.

His mouth tore from mine on a snarl and he reached for his bedside table, yanking

open the drawer. He lifted to his knees and I watched, positive I’d never seen anything
moreawe-inspiringinmylifethanBeau,absbunched,monsterthighsflexing,thetendons
andveinsinhisforearmsbulgingashetoreopenacondomandrolleditdownhisthick
cock.

Assoonasitwason,hecamebackdownontopofme,kissingmeagainbriefly,then

lookeddownatme.Thehot,hungrylookinhiseyesmademybellyquiver.

“Spread wide for me,” he said. “This is going to be a rough ride, but I promise I’m

gonnamakeyoucomearoundmycockniceandhardbeforeit’sover.”

Inoddedbecausewhatdidyousaytothat?AllIcouldthinkofwasyes,pleaseandI

don’tdoubtit.

His eyes were still locked on mine. “You wet for me, Freya?” he said as one of his

handscamedownbetweenus,coveringmypussy.Oneofhisthickfingerspressedinand
Imoanedatthecontact,hipslifting,seekingmore.

Hecursed.“Goddammit.”

“Yes,”Isaid,tellinghimwhathenowalreadyknew.Iwasready,sogoddamnready.

“Guidemein,”hesaidthroughclenchedteeth.

Ireacheddownbetweenourbodiesandtookhiscockinhand,doingasheasked,and

feltashuddermovethroughhimtheminuteItouchedhim.Iledhimtomyopeningand
heshudderedagain,strongerthistime.

“Ready?”hebitout.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and there was no missing the way he was desperately

tryingtomaintainhiscontrol.Hehadn’tgivenhimselfpermissiontoletloose,notyet,not
untilIgaveittohim.

Excitement unfurled in my belly at the way he said that one word, at what was to

come.Iwasabouttogetmyroughride,andI’dneverwantedanythingmoreinmylife.I
noddedagain.

Anothergrowltorefromhimandheslammedhishipsforward.

Icriedoutatthewayhefilledme,stretchedme.God,perfection.

Iwrappedmyarmsaroundhim,quiveringatthewayhisbeardtickledthesideofmy

faceandneckwhenhismouthmovedtomyear.

“That’sright,honey,holdontight.”

Thenhepulledoutandslammedbackin.

“OhGod.” The impact jarred my body, his cock going so deep, so damn deep I was

nearmindlessandwe’donlyjuststarted.

Thenhereallystartedmoving,hisbigbodyrollingandthrusting,poundingintome.

Therewasnocontroltohismovements—hewasgivingmeeverything,everythinghewas
feeling.Givingintotheintensityofhisneedforme,andIlovedit.Reveledinit.Whathe
wasgivingmecouldn’tbejustaboutlust,ithadtobemore,ithadtobe.

This moment, it was too big, too…everything. God, I’d never experienced anything

likethisinmylife.

Hisdeepgruntsfilledtheroom.“Jesus.Fucking.Christ.Feelssogood,sogood.”

Icouldalreadyfeelitbuilding,myorgasmwasrushinguponmehardandfast.“Yes,

God,yes.”

One of his hands cradled the side of my face, his mouth going to my ear on the

oppositeside,mybodystilljarringashethrustintome.“ThemomentIgotinsideyou,I
turned into a fucking animal. Look what you’ve done to me, Freya. Look what you’ve
done,”herasped.

His hips slammed forward hard, pushing him deep, and it hit, my orgasm firing

throughme.

“Christ,” he grated. “I can feel it. I can feel you, honey. So sweet, so fucking hot.

Perfect.”

Andwithanotherdeepgrunt,Ifelthimpulseinsideme.Mynametorefromhimashe

slammeddeepandstayedtheregrindinghiships,nailingmewithhard,shallowthrusts.

My ebbing orgasm built back up, and I came again, clinging to him, letting it wash

throughme,shakingandwhimpering.

Beaucollapsedontopofme,holdinghimselfuponhiselbowssohedidn’tcrushme.

Hisfacepressedintothesideofmyneck,hisheavybreathscoolingmydampskin.His
entirebodystilltrembledslightly,andIcontinuedtoclingontohimwhileItriedtocatch
myownbreath.

“Holyfuck,”hefinallysaid.

Iwasstilltryingtoformalogicalthought,letalonewords.

Beaupressedhislipstomythroatthenrolledtohisside,takingmewithhim,holding

meagainsthimtightly.

Hehuffedoutabreathandchuckled.“Thatwas…intense.”

“Uh-huh.”Stillnotactualwords,butbetterthannothing.Itriedtoliftmyhead,buthe

heldmetohiminaBeaubearhug.

Hisbig,rough-skinnedhandsliddownmybacktomybutt,andhesqueezed.“Guess

wecanputacheckbythat,then.I’dsaywe’redefinitelycompatible,wouldn’tyou?”

I’dsaywhatwejustdidsurpassedanything.Compatibleseemedtoosimpleawordfor

whatI’djustfelt,andIknewhefeltit,too.Hewasjusttooafraidtoadmitit.

EAU

Christ.Ineededaminute.

“Youwantadrink?”Iasked.

Freya wriggled her soft, curvy body against mine. “Sure,” she said, and wriggled

again.

IrealizedIwasholdinghersotightshecouldn’tmove.Ihadn’twantedtolethergo

afterthewayshe’dlitupforme,thewayshe’dcomeforme.Andforsomereasonafter
thatI’dneededtoavoidmakingeyecontactwithher,soI’dcrushedhertome.

Iwasn’tsomecoyvirgin,butthethoughtoflookingather,intothosebiggreeneyes

afterwhatwejustdid…Icouldn’tdoit.Mychestconstricted.Itwastoomuch.

Ireleasedherandclimbedoffthebed,stumblingalittleasIheadedforthedoor.My

legsfeltlikejelly,andmygutwasinknots,myheartstillracingamillionmilesanhour.
“Berightback,”Isaidandbolteddownthegoddamnstairs.

I hit the kitchen and rested my hands against the counter, trying to catch my breath.

Mychestfeltconstricted.

Jesus,itwasalmostlikeIwashavinga…shit,apanicattack.

Ifilledaglasswithwateranddownedit.

Whatthehelliswrongwithme?

Yeah,IcouldadmitthathadbeenbyfarthebestsexI’deverhadinmylife,andyeah,

Ifeltalittleoverwhelmedbywhathadjusthappened.Okay,alot.Butthatwasnoreason
tofreakout.It’djustbeenalongtimesinceI’dhadsex,that’sall.Fouryearswasalong
timeforanyone.

Ofcourseitwasgoingtoseemmoreintense.That’sallitwas.Ineededtogobackup

thereandfuckheragain,getbackintotheswingofit.I’djustactedlikeanexcitedpuppy,
gratefulforanewtoy.AfewmoreroundsandI’dbebacktomyoldself.

IfilledupanotherglasswithwaterforFreyaandheadedbackupstairs.

I walked into my room and stumbled again when I saw her lying in my bed. She’d

climbedunderthecovers.Herauburnhairwasspreadoutovermypillow,eyesshut,and
thesheetcoveringhernakedbodyhuggedhercurves.

Somethinghitmehard,likeakicktothegut.Ihadnoideawhatthehellitwas,butit

feltbad…andreally,reallygoodallatonce.Iignoreditandwalkedovertoher.

“Freya?”

Nothing.Shewasout.

I should have let her sleep, but I needed back inside her. I craved her again already,

likeaclawinghungerinmygut,andIknewonlyFreyacouldcureit.

That freaked me out. I didn’t want to think about why. I sure as hell didn’t want

anyone to have that kind of hold over me. I needed to prove that this feeling was about
havingsexforthefirsttimeinalongtime.Anythingelsewasunacceptable.

So, I placed her drink on the bedside table, pulled the sheet back, and climbed in

besideher.Shemadeacutelittlewhimperingsoundthatmademydickevenharder.

I took her arm that lay limp on the pillow by her head, wrapped it around my

shoulders,andpressedakisstohersoft,swollenlips.“Honey?Youawake?”

Shemutteredsomething,andIkissedhermouthagain.Herlidsflutteredopenandthat

clawing,emptyfeelinginthepitofmystomachintensified.

“Mmm,” she managed to say, lids opening and closing several times before I finally

hadhersleepyeyesonme.

“Iwantyou,”Isaid.Christ,Ineededher.Ipulledherthighovermyhip,lettingher

feelhowmuch.

Hereyeswidenedalittle.“Really?Already?”

I nodded and kissed her again, because I had to. “You want it, honey?” I asked,

fuckingclosetobegging,stillnotunderstandingwhatIwasfeeling,justknowingIneeded
this,her,rightgoddamnthen.

“Yeah,Iwantit,”shewhisperedagainstmylips.

Igrabbedacondomandwassuitedupafewsecondslater,thenIslidbackinsideher.

Myeyesrolledbackwhenherpussywrappedaroundme,tightandwarm,andafullbody
shudderrackedthroughme.

Nothinghadeverfeltsogood.Itriedtothinkofsomething,searchingmymemories,

butcameupshortbecausetherewasnothing.

Nothing,noone,comparedtoher.

Shit.

BEAU

REYA

DARTED

AWAY

,laughingasshetoreacrossthelivingroom,bareassed,hairflying

behindher,andsosexyshemademygutachelookingather.

“Getbackhere,woman.Yourmanneedsseeingto,”Isaid,joking.Okay,halfjoking.I

wantedherconstantly.We’dspentthelastweekfuckinglikerabbits.

I’dbeenwrong—theimpacthadn’tlessened.

Notonebit.

Ifanything,ithadintensified.

ThewomanhadmedrunkonherandIcouldn’tgetenough.

Shestoodbehindthecouch,skinstillflushedfromcomingmomentsago,nipplesdark

frommysuckingonthem.

“You’reinsatiable,”shesaid,agrincurvingherlips.

Istoodoppositeher,strugglingtobreathefromtheimpactofjustlookingather.“You

onlyhaveyourselftoblame,”Isaid,givingheraplayfulsmirk.

Freyaplantedherhandsonherhips.“Howdoyoufigurethat?”

“Well,forstarters”—Imotionedtoher—“youhavethatbody.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “You’re the only one who has appreciated these abundant

curves quite so much. The last guy I dated told me I’d be perfect…if I just lost ten
pounds.”

Myspinestraightened.“First,thatguywasn’tonlyanasshole,hewasfuckingblind.

Andsecond,heobviouslywasn’tarealman.I’mnotsmall,Freya.Amanlikemewantsa
womanwhocantakewhathehastogive,somethingtoholdonto.Nothingsexiertome
thanawomanwhoissoftandround,whocantakeeveryhardthrustIgiveher.That’syou,
honey,andthat’sjustforstarters.”Mydickgotharder.“Christ,you’reperfect.”

She blinked over at me, then her tongue darted out and swiped over her bottom lip.

“Whatelse?”

Iraisedabrow.

Shesmirked.“Yousaidforstarters.”

“You’regoingtomakemeworkforit,huh?”

Hersmirkturnedintoawidegrin.“Absolutely.”

It wasn’t hard at all to come up with more that I liked, because I liked it all. “Your

hair,”Isaid,voicegettingdeeper.“Ilovethecolor,howsoftitis.”

Shestartedbreathingheavier,soIkeptgoing.

“Your eyes are the most amazing green, and expressive. When you’re under me I

knowexactlyhowgoodyou’refeeling.It’sallthere.”

Herlipspartedalittle,andthosebeautifuleyeswidened.

ButIwasn’tfinished.“You’refunny,too.Ineverrealizedhowfuckingsexythatwas.

You’realsosmart.”Whathadstartedasfun,suddenlyfeltalittlemoreserious.Ishould
getthingsbacktowheretheyhadbeen,goofingaround,butIhadtosayonemorething.
Therewasnostoppingthewordsoncethey’dformedinmyhead.“Ilikebeingwithyou.I
likehavingyouhere.Ilike…you,Freya.Alot.”

Herthroatworked,andhercheeksweredarker.“Ilikeyou,too,”shewhispered.

Theroomwassuddenlyengulfedinsilence.Hereyeswereonmineandthatpanicky

feeling started to build inside me again, threatening me with things I refused to
acknowledge, to even consider. “Then stop running and come here and kiss me,” I said,
needingtobreakwhateverthiswas,whateverwashappeningbetweenus.

Sheshookherhead,drawinginadeepbreath.“No.Youcomehere.”

I was already moving toward her before she’d finished her sentence. She held her

grounduntilIcollidedwithher,myhandsinkingintoherwarm,softhair.Curlinganarm
underherass,Iliftedheroffherfeet,tiltingherheadbacktotakehermouth,andheaded
forthestairs.

Therewasnomoretalkingafterthat,notfortherestoftheday.

WhenIlaybesideherinthatdarkhourslater,Ididmybesttocontrolthepoundingof

myheart.IalsotriednottothinkaboutwhyIhadn’ttakenheroutfishingorhuntingagain
sincethedisasterofourlasttwoexcursions.

Idefinitelydidn’twanttothinkaboutwhatwouldhappeninafewdayswhenitwas

timeforhertogobacktoDenver.HowI’dhandleitherealonewithouther.

REYA

IwoketothesoundofBeaumovingaroundtheroom.Hewasfullydressed.Ihadn’t

evenheardhimgetup.

“Hey,”Isaid.

Heturned,eyesmovingoverme.“Sorry,Iwastryingnottowakeyou.”

Iliftedtomyelbows.“What’sgoingon?”

“IneedtogooutwithHanktoday.”Hepulledapairofsocksfromthedrawer.“Will

youbeokayhereonyourown?”

“Ofcourse.”Beauseemedalittlestrange,distantmaybe.Didhesuspectsomething?

HadheworkedoutthatI’dliedtohim?Justthinkingaboutitmademesickwithguilt.I
neededtocomeclean,andsoon.Mystomachrolledatthethought.“Why?What’sgoing
on?”

Beausatontheendofthebedandslidonhissocks.“Grizzly’sbeengettingtooclose

toHank’shouse.He’sworriedabouthisgirls.Itgotintooneofhisoutbuildingslastnight
andtorestuffup.We’regoingtotrackit,seeifwecanwarnheroff.”

Isatupstraighter.“Thatsoundsdangerous.”

Heshrugged.“Justpartoflivingouthere.There’snothingtoworryabout.”

I didn’t like it, in fact, I hated it, but a woman who had grown up on a ranch in

Coloradowouldhavedealtwithbearsbefore,right?Thiskindofthingwouldn’tfazeher.
Soinsteadofclingingtohimandbegginghimtobecareful,Inodded.

Hecamearoundtomysideofthebed,leanedin,andkissedmedeepandslow.My

toescurledunderthecovers.

“I’llseeyouwhenIgetback.”Hekissedmeagainandstrodeoutthedoor.

Iheardhistruckstartupanddriveoffashorttimelater.

I ended up spending most of the day cleaning and pottering around Beau’s house.

AfterIdidthedishesandputonaloadofwashing,Istartedonthepapersstackedhighon
his kitchen counter—house plans, bills, notes I didn’t know what to do with. I decided
attemptingtoputtheminsomekindoforderwouldbeintrusive,sojustplannedtotidy
themupabit.

Ipickedupasmallstackandtappedthemagainstthecountertostraightenthem,then

placedthemfacedownsothey’dstayinorder.Iaddedanotherstackandwenttogatherup
thenext.

I blinked down at the paper on top. It was a handwritten version of Beau’s online

datingprofile,withseveraladditionsthathadn’tmadethefinalcut,orratheralistofwhat
Beauwaslookingforandwouldnotcompromiseon.

Mustlovetheoutdoors.

Canhunt.

Likestofish.

Goodcook.

Loveskids.

Notclingy.

Pretty.

I stared down at it, unable to look away. It was like a shopping list. I guessed that’s

kindofwhatitwas.Beauhadbeenlookingforhisperfectmate.Mysearchhadn’tbeen
quite as thought out. I’d seen Beau, fallen head over heels, and then I’d lied so I could

havehim.

Iwasaliar.

TherewasonlyonethingonthatlistthatIcouldhonestlytickoff.Ilovedkids.The

prettypart,IguessIwasokay.BeauseemedtolikethewayIlooked.EverythingelseI’d
failedat,terribly.

Isqueezedmyeyesclosed.Ineededtotalktohim,totellhimthetruth,confessthatI

wasn’t the girl he thought I was, and hope like hell he didn’t drop me like a hot potato.
He’dbeenhonestatthestartwithwhathewantedandwhathedidn’twant.Icouldn’tsay
thesamethingandtheguiltwaseatingmeupinside.

What I did know was that there was a connection between us, and that was most

definitely real. When we were together the air crackled with it. The way I caught Beau
looking at me, the way he touched me. I had to believe that he felt something for me,
somethingreal.No,hedidn’twantlove,he’dbeenopenandhonestaboutthat,butIknew
he felt that connection. That whether or not he wanted love wasn’t up to him because
sometimesitjusthappened.

Butfirst,nomatterhowharditwasgoingtobe,Ineededtositdownandtellhimthe

truth.

Hours later, determined to check another thing off Beau’s list, I was back in the

kitchen,tryingmybestnottodestroydinner.Itwasn’tlookinggood.Themashedpotatoes
looked kind of lumpy and I got the feeling I’d cooked the meat too long and the beans
lookedgrayandfloppy.

Iwasdrainingtherevolting-lookingvegetableswhenBeauwalkedin.Irushedtohim,

unabletostopmyself,andwrappedmyarmsaroundhiswaist.“I’msogladyou’reback.I
wasworriedaboutyouallday.”

He curled his fingers around my biceps and leaned back, planting a kiss on my lips,

thenreleasedme,asmilecurvinghislips.“Therewasnothingtoworryabout.Toldyou
HankandIhadthiscovered.”

Oh God, I was being clingy. I quickly straightened and took a step back. “I know. I

guess I’m a bit of a worrywart.” I hustled back into the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I
cooked.”

Hesmiled.“Starving.”

Themeatwaskindofhardtocarve,butI’dmadegravysohopedthatwouldhidethe

fact it was a little dry. I dished everything up and put a plate down in front of him, my
bellysuddenlyinknotslikethiswasanothertestandeverythinghingedontheresults.

Hegrinnedupandmeandstartedwiththemeat,dragginghisknifethrough,andthen

again…and again. He started hacking at it, trying to cut off a piece, and I felt my face
flamehot.Whenhefinallyputapieceinhismouth,hechewedforareallylongtime.

“Itmightbealittlebitdry,”Isaid.

Beaugrabbedhisglassofwateranddownedthewholething.Heshookhishead,grin

nowstrained.“No…no,it’sfine.”

Isattheremortifiedashewashedeverymouthfuldown,tryingnottohurtmyfeelings

whilehefinishedthewholeplate.Myownhungerhadvanishedbythispoint.

“Itwasterrible,wasn’tit?”Iasked.

Beauwinced.“Maybethemeatwasabitovercooked,buttherestwas…great.”

That was a complete and utter lie, and we both knew it. “You’re nice for trying to

sparemyfeelings,”IsaidinawayIhopedwaslight,ifalittleself-deprecating.

I obviously did a terrible job of hiding how disappointed I was that I’d messed up

dinnerbecausehisteasingsmiledropped.

“Freya?”

Thewordswerethereonthelipofmytongue.Ilied.I’mnotthewomanyouthinkI

am.“Beau,Ineedto—”

“Comehere,”hesaid.

Iblinkedoverathim,attheroughedge,thehotcommandIheardinhisvoice.

Heheldouthishand.“Now.”

IwasheadingtowardhimbeforeIfullyregisteredmyfeetweremoving.Hereached

out,fingerscurlingaroundmywrist,andtuggedmetohisside.

“Lookatme,”hesaid.

Iwasstaringathischin,findingithardtomakemyselflookintohiseyes,notuntilI

saidwhatIneededto.

Hisfingersslidundermychinandhetiltedmyheadback.“It’sjustdinner.”

“I wanted…I wanted it to be perfect,” I whispered, unable to hide how upset I was

overanotherfailure.

Beau moved suddenly, shoving his plate out of the way, grabbed my hips and lifted

me,plantingmyassonthetableinfrontofhim.“You’reperfect,”hesaidinwaythatsent
tinglesacrossmyscalpandshootingdownmyspine.

“I’mnot.God,I’mfarfromit.”Itouchedthesideofhisface,hisbeardticklingmy

palm.“There’ssomethingIneedto—”IgaspedwhenBeaugrippedmykneesandshoved
mylegsapart.Hishandsslidhigheruntilhisfingerswereatthetopofmythighs.

“I’mstillhungry,”Beaugrowled,thosefingersmovinghigher,diggingin,fistingmy

tightsroughlyatmyhips.“Infact,I’mfuckingravenous.”

Allmygoodintentionstotellhimthetruthrightthenflewoutthewindow.Myheart

waspoundingharder,faster,andIwasalreadywet,aching.“What…whatdoyouhavea
cravingfor?”

“You,”herasped.“Nowlieback.”

Ididasheasked,andhetuggedmytightsandunderweardownmylegs,tossedthem

aside, and then threw my legs over his wide shoulders. I whimpered, desperate for him.
His breath huffed out, warm against my overheated pussy, and he cursed a second time

beforehegrowledinawaythatcouldonlybedescribedashungrilyandburiedhisface
betweenmythighs.

Hisbighandsgrabbedmybareassandheliftedmyhips.Icriedout,myheelsdigging

into his back, when his tongue plunged inside me, swirling in a maddeningly delicious
way.

I lifted to my elbows and looked down my body to watch him. The sight was the

hottestthingIhadeverseen.Beauwasbig,hisbodywideandmuscled,armsthickand
bulging,musclesflexing,darkheadbentandthoseblueeyes…theywereaimedatme.

Igasped,myhipsrolling.Hedraggedhistonguethroughmyslitthenswirleditaround

myclitandsucked.Hisbeardtickledmyassandthighs…mypussy.

My hand dropped, going to the back of his head, and I fisted his short hair, lifting,

rolling my hips to grind against him some more. His nostrils flared, and his fingers dug
deeper into my ass then he ate me in a way that stole my breath, sucking and licking,
plunginghiswickedtongueinsidemethenbackuptowraphislipsaroundmyclitagain
tosuckandtug.

BeaulovedbeingbetweenmythighsasmuchasIlovedhimbeingthere.Itwasinhis

eyes, the way he devoured me. I was slowly losing my mind with every swipe of his
tongue, and when he licked back up and sucked with an intensity that made my thighs
shake,Icamewithascreamandcollapsedbackontothetable.

Beau lowered my legs then grabbed my ankles, shoving them up so my heels were

against my ass, spreading me wide, and shot to his feet. He moved in, filling the space
between my thighs, and shoved his pants and boxers down, took his cock in hand, and
withasnarl,tuggedonitalmostviolently.Lyingtherestillsluggishfromtheorgasmhe’d
just given me, pussy still pulsing, shudders still making me shake, I watched him as he
wrappedthoselong,thickfingersaroundhisiron-hardcockandstrokedhimselfroughand
fast.

“Noonemakesmelosemyshitlikeyoudo,Freya.Noone.”Hiseyesslidfrommine

tomychest.“Liftupyourtop.Freeyourtits,”hebitout.

Ididasheasked,unabletolookaway,turnedonalloveragainbywatchinghim.

“Youmakemewanttodothings…thingsI’veneverdonebefore,thatIdon’tgoddamn

understandbutcravesobad,sofuckingbadIcan’tstopmyself.”Hisjawwastight,veins
inhisthickneckthrobbingunderhisskin.“Ican’tstopmyself,”herepeated.

“Whatdoyouwant?”Knowingwhateveritwas,Iwantedit.God,Iwantedit.

“Tomarkyou,tocoveryouinme.”Themuscleinhisjawjumped.Icouldseeiteven

underhisbeard.“Iwanttocomeonyou,Freya,onyourbeautifultits,”hehissed.“CanI?
Willyouletme?”

Oh God. “Yes,” I said, taking my breasts in my hands and squeezing them together.

“Dowhateveryouwant.Youcandowhateveryouwanttome.”AndImeantit.I’dnever
meantanythingmoreinmylife.

Beau made a sound between a gasp and a growl as the first jet of come hit my

stomach.Hepumpedhiscockharder,leaninginsohecouldsplashmybreasts.Thenhe
aimedtheheadofhiscockatmypussyandgroanedmynameashepumpedthelastofhis
comebetweenmylegs.Hecoatedmyclitandjustthefeelandheatofitsetmeoffagain.

Icriedhisnameandcame,rollingmyhipsandpinchingmyhardnipples.

Beauwatched,bigchestpumpingwithhisharshbreaths,eyeshotandglittering.When

Ifinallycollapsedbackforthesecondtime,hetuggedhispantsup,andscoopedmeinto
hismassivearms,andcarriedmetobed.Helaidmedown,andaftercleaningmewitha
warmwashclothandpullingupthecovers,heslidinbehindme.

Hekissedthebackofmyneckthenwrappedhisarmsaroundme,tuckedmeunderhis

chin,andsaidinaroughvoice,“Night,Freya.”

After the disaster of a dinner I’d made him, I’d been positive I’d screwed things up

evenmore,thatI’dgivenBeauanotherreasontoenditwithme.He’dshownmejusthow
wrongIwas.

Ididn’tthinkitwaspossible,butIlovedhimevenmore.

Squeezingmyeyesshut,Iclungtightertohim.“Night,Beau.”

Icouldn’tlosehim.

WhatthehellwasIgoingtodo?

BEAU

“I

’

NOT

FAR

,” I said, holding Freya’s hand and helping her over a rotten log. I liked

holdingherhand.Butassoonaswecrossedthelog,sheletgo.I’dnoticedshebeen…not
necessarilydistant,butlesstouchyfeely.

ThedisappointmentIfeltaboutthatwassurprising.I’dneverlikedclingywomen.I’d

alwaysfelt,Idon’tknow,likerunningtheotherwaywhenawomantriedtoinitiatethat
kindofcloseness.IfelttheoppositewithFreya.

Iwasfrowningoverthatrealizationwhenshesmiledatme.Iforcedasmileinreturn

andshovedmyhandinmypocket,soIdidn’tgrabherhandagain.

Weonlyhadanothertwodayslefttogetherbeforeshewenthomeand…

Isuckedinasharpbreath.

The impact that thought had on me, was also surprising. I shoved it aside. “Just

through here,” I said, leading her into a clearing surrounded by pines and dotted with
wildflowers. I stopped and let her take a few steps ahead of me so I could watch her
reaction.

Hermouthdroppedopenandhereyeswidened.Alightbreezemovedherhairgently,

carryingthescentofflowerswithit.“Ohwow.It’ssobeautiful.”

Freya put every flower there—shit, every woman I’d ever met—to shame. “Yeah,” I

chokedout.“Itis.”Ipulledmypackoffandtookoutablanket.“Ithoughtwecouldhave
apicnic.”

Hersmilegrewwider.“I’dlovethat.”

Wesatdown,andIhandedherabottleofwater.“Weusedtocomehereaskids.We’d

pickflowersfor—”Ibitoffmyword.

“Yourmom?”

WhythehellhadIbroughtherup?Ismiledandquicklychangedthesubject.“Hank

andIusedtoplayhideandseekinthelonggrassaswell.”

“Ibetyoutwowereahandful,”shesaid,eyessparkling.

Jesus,shewasgorgeous.“Ohyeah.”

Sheliftedahand,shieldinghereyesfromthebrightsun.“Sohowmanykidsdoyou

want?”

I’d already told her I wanted kids when we first started talking, but for some reason

herbringingitupthen,there,face-to-face,hitmeinawayIdidn’texpect.Havingkids,a
family, wasn’t just something that could happen one day. All of that could happen a lot
sooner—withFreya.

MymouthwentdryandIhadtoswallowseveraltimestotalk.“Twoorthreemightbe

nice.” An image of Freya sitting right where she was, among the wildflowers, belly
swollenwithourbaby,filledmyhead,andaweirdachestartedupinmychest.

“Me,too.”Hersmileturnedshyandtheachespread.

I looked away from her, unable to hold her eyes any longer for some messed up

reason,andstartedpullingthefoodout.Abeewashangingaround,soIwaveditaway.

Freya jerked back and shot to her feet, a panicked look on her face. “We need to

leave.”

Ifrowned.“What?”

“I’mallergictobees,”shesaid,voicegettinghigher.

Ishottomyfeetaswellasanotherbeeappeared,thenanother.“You’rewhat?”

“Weneedtogo,”shesaidagain.

Shit.

By then there wasn’t one or two; there was an entire swarm. Shit, we must have

disturbedahive.

Freyacriedoutsharplyandshelookedatme.“Ohno…”

“Ohno,what?”Dreadtightenedlikeafistbehindmyribs.

Her face wasn’t just panicked—there was real fear. “I’ve been stung.” She spun and

strodeoff,crashingthroughthetreesawayfromme.

“Christ,Freya,wait.”

“IleftmyEpiPenatthehouse,”shecalled.“Ineedtogetback.”

Icaughtupwithher.“Whatwillhappen?”

“Icouldhaveanallergicreaction,mytonguecouldswell,and…”Sheswallowedhard.

“Youneedtogetthestingerout.”

Igrabbedherarm,pullinghertoastop.“Whereisit?”

“Myback.”

I spun her around so she could rest her hands on a tree, and shoved up her shirt. I

spotteditstraightaway.

“Use your knife to scrape it away. Try not to pop the stinger sack—that wouldn’t

be…good.”

I did as she said, then not messing around, scooped her up in my arms and started

running flat out toward the house. Thankfully we weren’t that far away, but far enough
thatIstartedtofreakoutwhenIsawredsplotchesbreakingoutonherskin.

When I reached the house, I ran straight upstairs to my room, where her bags were.

“Whereisit?”Iyelled.

Shepointedtooneofherbags.Herbreathingsoundedwheezy.Ohfuck.

Igotwhatsheneededandtriedtohandittoher.Sheshookherhead.“Ican’t…”

Herhandswereshaking.

“Where!”Iyelled,infull-onfreak-outmode.“Thigh,”shewheezed.“Blacktipagainst

myouterthigh.Quickmotion,pushitfirmlyagainstmyskin.”

Igrabbedholdofherpants,yankedthemdown,pressedthepenagainstherflesh,and

didwhatshesaid.

“Nowwhat?”Ibarked.

Tearswelledinhereyes.“ItdependshowmuchvenomItookin.There’snotimeto

gettothehospital…”

Whatthefuckdidthatmean?

Irandownstairs,grabbedmysatphoneandcalled911.Iexplainedtothewomanon

theotherendwhathappened.Itwasagoodthingthatwe’dgottenthestingeroutstraight
away,butshesaidthesamethingasFreya.Thedrugsheneededhadbeenadministered.
AllIcoulddowascleanthestingsiteandiceit.

I quickly did as I was told, then I sat there and watched her, going out of my mind,

terrifiedherthroatwouldcloseorhertonguewouldswell,andshe’ddieinfrontofme.

Shereachedoutandtookmyhand.“I’mgoingtobeokay,”shesaid.“Severereactions

can happen, but mine have never been that bad and I usually recover quickly. I just
panickedbecauseIdidn’thavemymedicinewithme.”

Inoddedbutdidn’tanswer.Icouldn’t.IfeltlikeIwashavingthedamnedreactionfor

herwiththegiantlumpinmythroat.I’dneverbeenmoreterrifiedinmylife,andIwas
stillscaredoutofmymind.

Istayedtherewithher,neitherofussayingmuchforquiteawhile.

Finally,afteraboutthirtyminutes,shesaid,“I’mfeelingalotbetter.”Sherolledtoher

side and looked up at me, blinking rapidly. “I can’t believe I forgot my EpiPen. I never
forgetit.Ever.”

“Whythehelldidn’tyoutellmeyouwereallergictobees?”Isaid,toneharsherthan

I’dintended.Butnowmyfearhadeasedalittle,itwasreplacedbyirrationalangerthat
she’dkeptitfromme,andoverwhatcouldhavehappenedtoday.ThatwassomethingI
neededtoknow.IneverwouldhavetakenhertothatspotifIhad.

Ineverwouldhavesuggestedhercominghereinthefirstplace.

Ineverwouldhave…

Thelumpinmythroatcamebackastherestofthatsentenceformedinmyhead.

Christ,I’dmadeahugemistake.

REYA

Bythenextday,thankfully,Iwasbacktomyoldself,butIwasmortifiedthatI’dbeen

socareless.AndBeau,hewasactingstrange,quiet,kindofdistant.Theeasysmileshad
stopped.Heseemedtense,deepinthought,andIknewdeepdownthatthisdidn’tmean
goodthingsforme.

Hethoughthe’dmadeamistake,Iwassureofit.Itwaswrittenalloverhisstoicface.

AndIknewwhenIleftinaday’stimeIwouldn’tbecomingback.

Ifeltheartsick.

Broken.

Desperate.

Anditwasmyownstupidfault.

IwasinlovewithBeauSmith,completelyandutterly,andI’dmessedeverythingup

fromtheveryfirstconversationwe’dhad.

I glanced out the large kitchen window. The sun was setting. It was getting late and

Beauwasstilloutsidecleaninghisgunsontheporch.Takingasteadyingbreath,Igrabbed
himadrinkfromthefridgeandheadedoutside.

He glanced up when I walked out and thanked me when I handed him his beer, but

didn’tsayanythingmore.Leaningagainsttheporchrailing,Ilookedoutacrosstheland,
heart firmly lodged in my throat. It was so incredibly beautiful. With time, I could have
learnedtoloveitthereasmuchasBeau.Ihadnodoubtaboutthat.Ialreadylovedit.This
place could have been home. When I was gone, I guess Beau would start looking for
someoneelse,someonemoresuitedtothisplace.

Iturnedaround.Beauwaswatchingme.Iforcedasmile,butknewitdidn’treachmy

eyes.Icouldn’tfindtheenergytopretendanymorethatthiswasn’tkillingme,thatIdidn’t
careasmuchasIdid.

“Tonight’s my last night,” I said, crossing my arms. My hands were shaking, and I

didn’twanthimtoseeit.

Thisbeingmylastnightwasnotnewstohim,butforsomereasonhisbodystilled,got

tight.Somethingmovedbehindhisblueeyes,somethingIcouldn’tname.

Heputthegunhewascleaningaside.“Yeah.”

“This has been…” I cleared my throat, and ignored the way my eyes were stinging.

“Nomatterwhathappens,I’mgladIcame.”

“Freya…”hegrowled.

“Beau,Ineedto…there’ssomethingI…”

Hestoodsuddenly,cuttingmeoffwhenhestalkedtowardme.Hishandscamedown

ontherailingeithersideofmywaist,cagingmein.

He shook his head. “I was scared out of my mind yesterday, Freya,” he bit out. “I

thoughtyouweregoingtodie.Ithoughtyouweregoingtocloseyoureyesandyouwere
nevergoingtowakeup.”

The anguish I heard in his voice was real and raw. I loved and hated it all at once.

“Beau—”

“I don’t want to talk tonight, not tonight.” He lifted one of his hands to my face,

fingersslidingaroundmyjawintomyhair.“Iplanonspendingthenightinsideyou,in
my bed. I want to hear you screaming my name. I need it. That’s all I want right now.
That’sallI’vewantedallday.”Hedroppedhisforeheadtomine.“Willyougivemethat,
Freya?”

Mymouthwentdry,myheartpounding.Ihadtoswallowseveraltimes,soIcouldtalk

asIcurledmyfingersaroundthesideofhisneck.“Yes,”Iwhispered.“Ineedyou,too.”I
tookhishandandledhiminside,throughthelivingroom,andupstairstohisbedroom.

One of his hands slid around my belly from behind as soon as we walked into the

room,thefrontofhislonghardbodycollidingwithmyback.

Hismouthpressedagainstmyear.“Thisbody”—hepulledmeintighter—“wasmade

forme.Youfeelit,don’tyou,Freya?Youfeelthatheatbetweenus.Christ,Ithinkitcould
burnmealiveifIletit.”

IfIletit.

“I feel it,” I said. That heat, I’d let it consume me with open arms. I’d already been

reducedtoash.AndI’dneverbethesameagain.

Hishandsdroppedtomywaist,grabbedthebottomofmyshirt,andpulleditupand

offwithoneswiftmovement.

“Needyounaked,”hesaid,wordsvibratingthroughhischest.

Hishandscamebackaroundme,slidinguptomybreasts,cupping,squeezing,teasing

my nipples. My head dropped back against his chest, and his mouth went to my throat,
kissing,licking,sucking,sendingtinglesacrossmyentirebody.

Ireachedbackbetweenusandunhookedmybra.Beaugavemeroom,helpingmeto

tugitoff.Assoonasitwasgone,hishandscamebacktomybreastsandhewalkedme
toward the bed. I was panting by the time the front of my thighs hit the mattress. Beau
keptmepinnedbetweenhimandthebedashefreedmyhairfromtheponytailIhaditin.

“Lovethishair.Loveitwrappedaroundmyfist,spreadacrossmypillow,slidingover

mystomach,”hesaid,voicepuregrit.

Hishandswenttomyhipsandheliftedmerightoffthefloorandplantedmeonthe

mattressonmystomach.

“Assintheair,”heordered.

Ishook,excitementmakingmylimbsweakasIdidasheasked,liftingtomyhands

and knees. His fingers curled around my hips and he yanked my pants and underwear
downmyquiveringthighs,exposingmetohim.

Hecursedsoftandlowashehelpedmeoutofthem.Assoonastheywerecompletely

off,hishandswenttomyasscheeks,massaging,fingersdiggingintomyflesh.Ifelthis
eyesonmethewholetime.God,theyburnedintome.

Finally,afterwhatfeltlikeaneternity,hegrittedout,“Spreadyourthighs.Showme

howwetyouare,howmuchyouwantmeinsideyou.”

Iwantedtosqueezemythighstogethertorelievethethrobbingache,butIwantedhim

insidemesomuchmore.MyheartwaspoundingasIspreadmythighswider,knowing
whathe’dsee.TherecouldbenodoubtinghowmuchIwantedhim.

The rough sound he made when he saw me sent tingles down my spine. One of his

handsslidovermyassanddownmythigh.

Mypussyclenched.

Hecontinuedtomovehishandsovermeforthelongesttime,ashelookedovermy

nakedbody.Ifeltempty,theachesodeepandintenseIcouldn’ttakeitmuchlonger.My
hipsrolledasawhimpercrawledupmythroat.“Please,Beau.Please,Ineed…Ineedyou
totouchme.”

Hishandcameupbetweenmylegssoquickthesoundofhispalmslappingthewet,

aching flesh between my thighs rang out in the room. I cried out, my arms collapsing. I
moanedhelplesslyintothemattress,thisclosetocoming.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Beau growled. “Look at you. Nothing more beautiful than

seeingyoulikethis.”Heletoutaroughbreath.“Thanknowinghowmuchyouwantme.”

Mythighmuscleswereshaking.God,mywholebodywas,theneedIhadforhimwas

that strong. I had no idea what had come over Beau. He’d never been like this with me
before.Hewasalwaysprettyintenseandvocalduringsex,butthiswasawholenewlevel.
I heard the rustle of fabric followed by the crackle of a condom wrapper. I shivered in
anticipation.

A few seconds later, he was right there. The head of his cock pressed against my

pussy.

Ifistedthesheetsandpushedmyassback,tryingtoimpalemyselfonhim,unableto

waitanothermoment.Theheadofhiscockslippedinsideme.

Hehissed.“Fuck.”

Imoaned,toofargoneforactualwords.

“That’s it, hold on, Freya,” he gritted, then he slammed up inside me, filling me

completely.

Iscreamed,thepleasure,therelief,toomuchformetoholdin.Andthesoundthattore

fromhimmadeitclearhewasrighttherewithme.

Hedraggedhislong,thickcocknearlyallthewayoutthenpushedbackin.Witheach

thrusthegrewmoreintenseuntilhewaspoundingintomeoverandoveragain.Andthe
soundshemadeeverytimehisbodyslappedagainstmineonlymadeithotter.

“Sotightandhotandperfect,Freya.”Hegrowled.“Madeforme,”hesaid,repeating

whathe’dsaidoutside.

My head swam at those words, my body flushed and electrified, every nerve ending

likealivewirereadytospark.Hishandsthathadbeenmovingbetweenmybreastsand
mywaistslidtomyhipsandstayedthere,fingersgrippingtight,andhejerkedmedown
onhiscockwithhisnextthrust.

It was too much and the orgasm I’d been trying to hold off exploded through me. I

screamedintothecovers,tearingatthem,myentirebodyshakingoutofcontrol.

Beaufuckedmethroughit,andassoonasIstartedtogolimp,Iwasliftedlikearag

dollanddroppedtomyback.Beaucamedownontopofme,shovingmylegswide,and
filledmeagain.

I cried out, hanging onto him, needing him to ground me, close to flying all over

again. His face hovered above mine, teeth clenched, face lined with tension. His eyes
lockedonmine,andGod,Ifeltit,theintensityofitzappingthroughme.Icouldn’tlook
awayandIknewhefeltthesameway.

Hestartedmovingagain,fuckingmehardandslow.Itfeltlikewewerealmostlocked

intime,sodeepinsideeachotherIdidn’tknowwhereIfinished,andBeaustarted.

Iloveyou.

The words shot through my mind, and for a moment I thought I said them out loud.

Beau’seyesflared,gazesharpening,andIswearheheardit,thatheansweredmewiththe
same.

Impossible.ButGod,Ifeltit.

Beau’sgazetorefrommine,andhepulledfrommesuddenly,tryingtorollmebackto

my stomach. And I knew, I knew exactly what he was doing. He was afraid of what he
wasfeeling,ofwhatitmeant.

Irefusedtolethimpretendhewasn’tfeelingwhathewas.

Thiswasourlastnighttogether,maybeforever,andifIdidn’ttakethisrisk,Imight

regretitfortherestofmylife.

So,Ishookmyhead,refusingtoturn,andinsteadpushedagainsthisshoulder,silently

asking him to roll to his back. His body was tense; he didn’t want to give in. I looked
downathisachinglyhardcock.

Beauwantedbackinsideme,andIknewwhatIwasabouttodowasn’tplayingfair,

butIrefusedtolosethisbattle.Irefusedtolethimhidefromme.

Iwrappedmyfingersaroundhisinsanelyhardlengthandstrokedlightly,toolightly,

andsaid,“Please.”

Amuscleinhischeekjumpedandthestrainonhisfacedeepened,butwhenIshoved

hisshoulderthesecondtime,hedroppedtohisback.Iclimbedontopofhim,straddling
hisbigbody.

Hewaspanting.“Freya…fuck.”

I took his cock in my hand and didn’t mess around. I sank back down, taking all of

himinsideagain.

Hegroaned,bodyrollinginawaythatcausedeveryoneofhismusclestodance.I’d

neverseenanythingmoremagnificentinmylife.

His hands came to my hips and he urged me to move, to fuck him hard and fast. I

ignoredhimandinsteadplantedmyhandsonhischest,myeyeslockingwithhis,andI
rolled my hips nice and slow and deep. His fingers flexed, digging into my hips, the
tendonsinhisneckbulgingunderhisskin.

Iworkedusbothatmypace,givinghimeverything,notlettinghimhidefromme.

HisbigchestwaspumpingwhenIfinallydroppedforward,myhairfallingaroundus

likeacurtain,andgentlykissedhismouth,mytongueteasinghis.Ikeptmyeyesopen,
watching how his eyelids fluttered, felt each breath puffing from his nose, and when I
pulledbackIstayedthere,myfacehoveringaninchabovehis.

“Youfeelsogoodmovinginsideme,”Isaid.“Youwereright.Mybodywasmadefor

you…andyourswasmadeforme.”Irolledmyhipsagain,unabletotakemyeyesoffhim
ortheexpressiononhisface.

Beauwaslost,spinning,sodeepinthismomentwithmethatforoncehewasataloss

forwords.

Istartedmovingfaster,andeveryslideofmybodyagainsthisworkedmyclitagainst

thethickbaseofhiscock.Iwasgoingtocomeagain,andIknewitwouldbeevenmore
intensethanthefirstbecausethistimeIhadBeau’seyesonme.

Hefelt it—I couldsee it onhis face. He couldfeel the wayI was tighteningaround

him.Beaugrewbiggerinsideme,andIknewhewasrighttherewithme.

Hegroaned,lidsloweringalittle,eyesstillonmeasoneofhishandssliddownmy

backtomyass,theothertothenapeofmyneck,andheheldmethere.

Mymouthdroppedopenwhenhestartedthrustinguphardandfast.Icoulddonothing

buttakeit.

I cried out a moment later, his name tumbling over my tongue. Beau jerked beneath

me, a roar exploding from him as he came, hips grinding, cock pulsing and pumping
erraticallyinandoutofme.

Icollapsedontopofhim,mymouthathisthroat,kissingandsucking,tasting.Iwas

reeling from what just happened between us, my body still alight, still experiencing
aftershocksfromthebestorgasmofmylife.

Iliftedmyhandtothesideofhisfaceandmovedmymouthtohisear.“Iloveyou,”I

saidbeforeIknewthewordswerecoming.AndthistimeIdidn’tjustsayitinmyhead,I
saiditloudandclear,andtherewasnomistakingthemforanythingelse.

Iheldmybreath.Theywereoutnowandtherewasnotakingthemback.

Beaufroze.

Iwaited,andthesilencestretchedoutbetweenus.

“I’mnotoneforemptywords,IonlysaysomethingifImeanit.”

Hewasn’tgoingtosayit.

I’druinedeverything.

BEAU

LAY

THERE

,blinkingupattheceiling,thesilencenowdeafening.

Ifitwerepossibletogobackintimeandstopherfromsayingthosethreewordsright

beforeshesaidthem,Iwould,becausethennothingwouldhavetochange.Icouldcarry
onpretendingthatshewasperfectformeineveryway.

Iknewthatwasalie,though.I’dknownitsinceourfirstfishingtrip,hadn’tI?When

it quickly became obvious that she had no idea what she was doing. But I’d wanted her
toomuch,I’dwantedthistowork,soI’dspentthelasttwoweeksindenial,pretendingit
could. Going as far as interrupting her every time I thought she might confess whatever
shewashidingfromme.SoIcouldkeepher,soIcouldkeepheralittlelonger.

I could have gotten past the lies, but love, that had never been part of the deal. It

wasn’treal.Andifitwas,Iwouldnever,couldnever,givethatmuchofmyselftoanother
person.Freyaknewthat,goddamnit.

I’dbeenafooltothinkIcouldhavethis,arelationshiponmyterms,thatthiscould

work.

Freyastirredandliftedtoherelbows,lookingdownatme.Herhairwaswildaround

herface,hercheeksflushed,mouthpuffyandsexy,eyeswide.

“Beau…”Therewasaquestioninhervoicethatmademygutacheandsentirrational

angerfiringthroughmesohardandfastmyheadspun.

I didn’t understand it, the anger, I just knew that I was pissed off with myself and,

dammit, with Freya for saying those three fucking words and ruining everything. I
couldn’tdealwithit.AndforonceIcouldn’thidebehindaneasysmile.Icouldn’thideat
all.TherewasnodisguisingthewayIwasfeelingrightthen.

Soinsteadofaddressingwhatshe’djustsaid,Ilettheangertakehold.BecauseIsure

as hell didn’t know—didn’t understand—the other emotions I was feeling, and that just
pissedmeoffallthemore.“Whenwereyougoingtotellme?”Isaid.

Sheblinked.“What?”

“Thatitwasallalie?Thathalf,ifnotall,ofthethingsyousaidtomewerebullshit?”

SomewhereinthebackofmymindIknewwhatIwasdoing,thatIwaspushingheraway,
thatIwasdoingwhateverIhadtodotoavoiddealingwithherfeelings—andwithmine.

Shejoltedthenjerkedback,takinghersoftwarmthawayfromme,leavingmecold.

“Youknew?”shewhispered.

Iclenchedmyjawanddippedmychin.“ItriedtoconvincemyselfthatIwaswrong,

butIsuspectedfromthebeginning.Ijustdidn’twanttobelieveit.Youneverlivedona
ranch,didyou?”

“Whydidn’tyou…”Sheshookherhead.“Youneversaid,you—”

“When?” I gritted out. Jesus, she looked distressed, upset, and I was acting like the

world’sbiggestasshole,butIcouldn’tpullitback.IwasafraidofwhatmighthappenifI
did,ifIdecidedtoletthisgo,ifIgaveherthetiniestinch.

Herfingerstwistedthesheets.“Iwasgoingtotellyou.Iwasjust…Iwastryingtofind

therighttime.”

“The right time would have been when we started talking,” I said. “We could have

prevented this…this…” I bit off my words, not knowing how to finish them. Freya’s
stricken expression was killing me, weakening my resolve. I couldn’t have that. I knew
better.

“Youcareaboutme,Beau.Iknowyoudo,”shesaid.

Ishovedmyfingersthoughmyhair.“YouknewwhatIwanted,Freya,whatIdidn’t

want,andrightnow—”

“I don’t check any of your boxes, right?” She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest,

hidingherbodyfromme.“I’mtheoppositeofwhatyouwerelookingfor?”

Herwordswerelikeknivestothechest.Ididn’twanttohurther.I…shit,Icaredabout

her.“Freya—”

“The reason I contacted you, the reason I lied…” She looked down, her lower lip

quivering.“You’regoingtothinkthisisstupid,but”—hereyesliftedbacktomine.“Ifell
foryou,Beau,theminuteIsawyourpicture.Callitfateorkismet,or…Idon’tknow,butI
knewthis,us,weremeanttobe.”

Istaredather,heartracing,denialfloodingme,risingsofastitdrownedoutanyother

emotiontryingtosurface,andGodhelpme,Ishovedthemdeeperforgoodmeasure.“I
can’tgiveyouwhatyouwant,”Isaid,voicefarfromsteady.“Itoldyouthat.Itoldyou
fromthestart.”

“Iknow.”Shetuckedherhairbehindherear.“Ihopedthatyou’d…thatmaybe…”

“I’dchangemymind?”

“Yes,”shewhispered.

Ineededhertounderstand,forbothoursakes,andittoremetoshedstosaythewords,

to hurt her, but I had to make her understand. “I’m not capable of that kind of love. It
doesn’texist.”

Fireshotthroughhereyes.“That’sbullshit,andyouknowit.Deepdownyouknowit.

You felt it, with me. You may be too stubborn to let yourself acknowledge it, but it’s
there.”

WhatIfeltforherwasn’tlove.Itcouldn’tbe.Istartedshakingmyhead.

Freyashotoutofbedandsnatchedupherclothes.“I’msorryforlyingtoyou,Beau.I

am. You have no idea how sorry, but you’re lying to yourself as well. One day you’ll
realize that, and it’ll be too late.” She grabbed one of her bags and stormed out of the
room.Thespareroomdoorslammedshutafewsecondslater.

I lay there unable to move, my brain having trouble catching up with what had just

happenedandhowitallfellapartsofast.

Theawfulfeelinginmystomachdidn’teaseovertime;itincreased.Thecloserwegot

tomorningandthedrivebacktotown,tomedroppingFreyaoff,theworseitgot.

Itfeltwrong,sowrong.Theurgetogotoherwasalmostimpossibletoignore.

ButIdidmybesttoshutitdown.WhatIfeltforherwasn’tlove.Itcouldn’tbe.

So,IstayedwhereIwasuntilthesunstartedtorise,paintingmyroominanorange

wash,untilIheardFreyagetupandstartmovingaround.

Itwastimetotakeherback.

REYA

ThedrivebacktoEaglewoodwasawful.

Beaudidn’tseemtoknowhowtoactorwhattosay,andneitherdidI.Ijustwantedto

get to my car that Beau had had towed back to town, and go home, forget this ever
happened.Unfortunately,Iknewitwasn’tgoingtobethateasy.

OnthewaytoBeau’stwoweeksago,Ienvisionedaverydifferentendtomytrip.It

was unrealistic and crazy, but I’d imagined us driving to the city together to collect my
things,thathewouldbeasinlovewithmeasIwaswithhimandwe’dmoveintogether
immediately.

IwasstartingtothinkthatmaybeI’dwantedthingstoworkoutwithBeausomuch

becauseIwasn’thappyinmyownlife,thatI’dmadehimouttobethisideal,perfectman,
whennoonewasperfect.Hecouldn’tmakemylifebetter.OnlyIcoulddothat.

Oh,IlovedBeau—Ihadnodoubtaboutthat—butI’dcomeintothiswithunrealistic

expectations.I’ddisregardedhisthoughtsandwishes,sodesperatetofilltheholeinmy
ownlife.TheemptyspotI’dhadsinceIwasalittlegirl,desperateformyparents’love
andattention.

I’ddonethistomyself,andnowIhadtofaceuptoitandlivewiththeconsequences.

LifewithoutBeau.

Finally,wepulleduptothegarage.Iclimbedout,andBeauhelpedmecarrymybags

tomycar.WhenitwasloadedandIwasreadytogo,Iwasn’tsurewhattodo.Westood
thereforafewlongseconds,staringateachother,untilfinallyBeautuggedmetohimand
wrappedhisstrongarmsaroundme.Oneofhishandscuppedthebackofmyheadandhe
kissedmyhair.

“Freya,I—”

Ishookmyhead.“It’sfine.Youdon’tneedtosayanything.”

Ican’tgiveyouwhatyouwant,Freya.

He’dalreadysaidit.Ididn’tneedorwanttohearitagain.

Iwenttopulloutofhisarms,buttheyheldmetighterforamomentbeforehefinally

releasedmeandsteppedback.

I didn’t want it to end like this—awkward, full of regret—so when I pulled my car

door open, I turned to him and forced a smile. “This may not have ended the way I’d
hoped, but I’m glad I came,” I said. “I’m glad I met you.” I knew my smile had turned
sad,butIpressedon.“You’reagoodman,Beau,andIwishyouallthebest.Justbecause
Iwasn’t,Ididn’t…”Iclearedmythroat.Notgoingthere. “I think you struggle with the
factyouleftHankalonetotakecareofyourgrandfather,andIdon’tthinkyouknowhow
todealwiththeguiltyoufeeloverit.Yourunaroundhelpingeveryone,tryingsohardto
makeupforit.Andintheprocess,you’vebottledupyourfeelings,soyoudon’thaveto
facethem.”Iheldhisbluegazeandforcedmyselftofinish.“Youdon’tthinkyoudeserve
love, so you’re punishing yourself and not letting yourself have it. But you’re wrong,
Beau. Love does exist, and maybe one day…one day you’ll meet the right woman, and
you’llknowthat,too.”

Ignoringhisexpressionthatcouldonlybedescribedasshell-shocked,Iclimbedinmy

carbeforehecouldrespond,starteditup—anddroveaway.

AndIdidn’toncelookintherearviewmirror.

BEAU

“T

HERE

’

SOMETHING

WRONG

WITH

,” I said to my brother before glancing down at

Beth,whowascradledinmyarms.Istillcouldn’tgetoverhowtinymynieceswere.

“I’vebeentellingyouthatforyears,”Hanksaid.

I looked up at him. He held Beth’s tiny twin sister, Emmy, her head resting on his

massiveshoulder.

IturnedtoBirdie,andmysister-in-lawsmirked.

“Thisisyourfault,”Isaidtoher.“Themoretimehespendswithyou,themoreofa

smartasshe’sbecoming.”

“Don’tworry,”shesaid,pattingmeontheshoulderassheheadedbackinthehouse.

“Nooneisabiggersmartassthanyou.”

Hank chuckled and watched his wife disappear inside. He turned back to me. “See,

nothingtoworryabout.”

Ifrownedatthebigbastard.“No,I’mserious.There’ssomethingseriouslywrongwith

me.”

ThegrindroppedoffHank’sface.“What’sgoingon?”

I sat down in one of the rocking chairs on Hank’s porch and rocked back and forth,

since Beth had finally closed her eyes, and looked back up at my brother. “I’m not
sleeping. I’ve got no appetite. I haven’t been fishing or hunting in weeks. My stomach
feelsweird,andthere’sthis”—Ipressedmypalmtothemiddleofmychest—“ache,right
here.”

“Sobesidescomingherefordinner,youhaven’tleftyourhouseinthreeweeks.”

“Yeah,”Isaid.“Prettymuch.”

“AndthelasttimeyouwentfishingwaswhenFreyawashere?”Hanksaid.

Isatstraighterinmyseat.Ihadn’tsaidhernameoutloudsincesheleft.I’dthoughtit

alot.I’dthoughtofheralot.Asamatteroffact,Ihadn’treallystoppedthinkingabout
her.

Ialsohadn’theardfromher,andIunderstoodwhy,butI…shit,Imissedher.Imissed

talkingtoher.“Yeah,so?”IsaidtoHank.

“Andyoustartedgettingthesesymptoms,what?Justaftersheleft?”heasked.

Ifrowned.“Isupposeso.”

Hankshookhishead,alookofdisgustonhisface.

Ifrownedharder.“Whatthehell’sthatlookfor?”

“You’reanidiot,”Hanksaid.

Iscowledathim.“Well,thankssomuchforyourprofessionaldiagnosis.”

Hestaredatmeindisbelief.“Youreallycan’tfigureitout?”

“Figurewhatout?”Ibarkedathim.BethstirredsoIrockedfaster.

“You’reeitherabouttohaveamassiveheartattack,”hesaid.“Or…”

“Orwhat?”

“You’reinlove.”

Ishotoutofthechair.“No.”Ishookmyhead.“Don’tberidiculous.”Bethscrewedup

herface,lettingoutatinycry.

HankscowledatmeandIstartedrockingheragain.

“Okayfine,”hesaid.“You’renot,butcanIaskyouthis?Whenyou’resittingaround

yourhouseorlyingawakeinbed,doingallthisnothing,whatareyouthinkingabout…or
shouldIsaywho?”

Ifrozelikeastartledrabbitlookingdownthebarrelofagun.“No,”Isaidagain,but

with a hell of a lot less conviction this time. I looked at my brother. “She can’t hunt or
fish.”

“So?”Hanksaid.“NeithercouldBirdiewhenwefirstmet.”

“Shecan’tcook,”Isaiddumbly.

“Youcan.”

“Well,yeah.”

Hankshrugged.“So,what’syourpoint?”

Icouldn’tthinkofone.

“You once told me not to let Mom keep on hurting me, but Beau, you’re doing the

same thing. We lost people we loved, and it hurt a fuck of a lot, but don’t let what
happened in your past stop you from being with the woman you love.” Hank glanced
through the window at Birdie who was quilting at the kitchen table. “I almost did what
youarenowbecauseofthatshitinmyhead.Don’tdothesamething.Youneedtotalkto
her,Beau.Tellherhowyoufeel.”

WOKE

WITH

JOLT

, F

REYA

’

NAME

EXPLODING

PAST

LIPS

AND

HAND

FLYING

theothersideofthebed.Empty.Ishotuptoasittingposition,lookingaroundtheroom,
mindfuzzy,stillhalfinthedreamI’djusthad,halfinmyshadowedroom.

My mouth opened again, her name forming on my tongue, about to call out for her

againwhenIremembered.Shewasn’tthere.

Shewasgone.

The soul-deep ache that realization caused could have knocked me on my ass if I’d

beenstanding.

It was only a dream. But it seemed so real. We’d been on the couch downstairs

together,kissing,laughing,happy…Christ,we’dbeeninlove.Andforthefirsttimeina
longtime,thethoughtofthat,thefeelofit,didn’tsendmeintoapanic.

Andnotjustinthedream.

Ishovedthecoversaside.

Hankwasright.IwasinlovewithFreya.

Itdidn’tterrifyme.Infact,itfeltright,sodamnright.

AndI’dlethergo.I’dletherwalkoutofthere,outofmylife,likeadumbfuck.

Iflewoutofbedandjoggeddownthestairs,thesenseofurgencyinmygutgnawing

at me. I had to tell her, this second. My phone was in the kitchen, and I snatched it up,
shovedthedooropen,strodeoutontothedeck,andpunchedinherphonenumber.

ThephonerangandranguntilIwasaskedtoleaveamessage.

I didn’t want to leave a damn message. I needed to talk to her. I hung up and tried

again.

Shehadtobethere.IhadtotellherhowIfelt.

“Hello,”Freya’ssleepy,softvoicehitmyear,andIhadtograbfortheporchrailing.

I’dmissedthesoundofhervoicesomuch.Ihadn’trealizedhowmuchuntilIheard

thatsweet,huskytone.Imean,Iheardherinmyheadalldamnday,butfinallyhearingit
forreal,Jesus,ithitmewithforce.

“Isanyonethere?”shesaid.

Isnappedoutofitandforcedmymouthtomove.“Freya?”Icroaked.

Silence.

Iwaited,mybreathchoppy,myheartpounding.Pleasedon’thangup.

“Beau?”shefinallywhispered.

Igrippedthephonetighter.“Yeah,it’sme.”

Moresilence,thenshesaid,“It’sfourinthemorning.”

Shit.Wasit?“Sorry,I…”Igrippedtherailingtighter.“Ijust,Ineededtotalktoyou.”

Hersighcameatmebeforeshesaid,“Idon’tthink…Beau,there’snothinglefttotalk

about.”

I shoved my fingers through my hair. “There is. There’s a lot to talk about, starting

withthefactthatIwaswrong,thatIshouldn’thaveletyougo.”

Iheardhersuckinabreath.“What?”

“Imadeamistake,honey.Imessedup.I—”

“No,” she said. “You didn’t. You were right. I wanted something from you that you

can’tgiveme.AndwebothknowtherearethingsIcan’tgiveyou.”

“You’rewrong,”Isaid.

“I’mnot.”Herroughexhaleechoeddowntheline.“Yousawmeoutthere.Ican’tdo

anyofthethingsyouwantedfromapartner.God,Ican’tevencook.”

“Noneofthatmatters,”Isaid.“Noneofit,Freya.Please,listentome—”

“Ican’t,”shesaid.“Beau,Icamefromafamilythathadawarpedideaoflove.Their

love came with conditions, was withheld. Starting this thing with you, I was repeating
history.Ididn’tbelieveIwasworthyoflove.So,Ifellforamanwhocouldn’tgiveitto
me, whose affection came with conditions. That’s not your fault, Beau. You want what
youwant.ButIneedmorethanthat.Ideserveit.”

“No,Freya,please—”

“Ineedtogetoveryou,Beau.I’mtryingreallyhardtogetoveryou,andthat’sgoing

tobesomuchharderifyoustartcallingme.Please…pleasedon’tcallagain.”

“Freya,don’thangup—”

“Goodbye,Beau.”

“Christ…Iloveyou.Ifuckingloveyou.”

Butitwastoolate.Thelinewasalreadydead.

Itriedtocallback,butitwentstraighttovoicemail.

WhatthehellwasIgoingtodonow?

FREYA

EANING

AGAINST

THE

KITCHEN

COUNTER

, I skimmed the roommate wanted section.

Sally’sboyfriendwaswellandtrulytheretostay,andIcouldn’tdealwithbeingaround
theloved-upcouplemuchlonger.Thankfully,they’dbothleftforwork,whichmeantIhad
a moment to myself without all the lovey-dovey looks and whispers that were usually
followedbygropingandgiggles.

Ifinishedmycoffee,putthemuginthesink,andheadedtomyroom.Ineededtoget

dressed. I had a job interview this morning and I had to ace it. I planned to knock their
socksoff.StayingathomewithnothingtodobutthinkwasnothelpingmegetoverBeau.

Iwasstandinginfrontofmycloset,stillinoneofBeau’soversizedshirts—yes,I’d

stolenit,andokay,maybemydedicationtogettingoverBeauwasn’tasstrongasitshould
be—tryingtodecidewhattowear,whensomeoneknockedatthedoor.

Iignoredit.Iwasn’tinthemoodforvisitors.Ialsodidn’thavetimeforwhoeverthat

was.IshovedasidemycollectionofLBDsanddecidedtogoforcolor.Forthisinterview,
Iwantedtostandoutfromthecrowd,beremembered.

Anotherknock,thistimemoreinsistent.

Whatthehell?

Threemoreloudbangshadmerushingfrommybedroom,positivesomethingterrible

musthavehappened.WhatifitwasSally?Whatifshe’dbeenhurt?

BythetimeIreachedmydoor,nerveswereflappingaroundinmybelly.Iyankedit

open…andfroze.

Standingatmydoor,intensebutwaryeyesonme,wasBeau.

“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Ichokedout,andatthesametime,unabletostopmyself

fromtakinghimin,eatingupeveryhoned,muscledinch.

SomehowinthelastfewweeksI’dforgottenhowbighewas.God,hewasbeautiful.

Burlyandroughandbeautiful.Hewaswearingjeansandablueflannelshirtrolleduphis
muscled forearms. His beard looked a little scruffier and his hair looked like he’d been
runninghisfingersthroughitrepeatedly.Ittookeverythinginmenottothrowmyselfinto
hisarms.

“Christ, it’s so good to see you,” he said, his eyes, still wary but even more intense

lookingovermyface.

Hislow,grittyvoicesnappedmeoutofmystupor.“Youshouldn’tbehere.”

I saw something flicker in his eyes, something like hurt. It hurt me to see it, even

thoughIdidn’tunderstandit.

“CanIcomein?”hesaidinstead.“Please,Ineedtotalktoyou.”

Ibitmylip.Lettinghiminwasaterribleidea.Iwasinlovewiththisman,andIknew

hedidn’tfeelthesameway.Whatcouldhepossiblyhavetosaytome?

IstaredintohiseyesandnomatterhowhardItriedtoworkupthewords,Icouldn’t

askhimtoleave.“Youcameallthiswayjusttotalktome?”

“Yes.”HiseyesdroppedtotheshirtIwaswearing,hisshirt,andhesuckedinasharp

breath.

Myfaceheated butIdidn’t comment.Whatcould Isay? I wear it and pretend your

armsarearoundme?

I stepped back quickly, letting him into my apartment. After the way I’d lied to him

aboutwhoIwas,theleastIcoulddowashearhimout.

HewalkedinandInoticedhehadaduffelbagwithhim.“You’restayinginthecity?”

Hedroppeditanddippedhischin—thenhestrodetowardme,adeterminedlookon

his face that had self-preservation kicking in with force. If he touched me, I’d fall to
pieces.

I stumbled back, lifting up my hands to ward him off. He stopped an inch from my

palms.Hiseyeswerealittlewild,hisnostrilsflaring.

“Don’tdothat,”herasped.“Please,don’tdothat.”

Ishookmyhead.“Thisisabadidea,Beau,andyouknowit.Youknowwhy.”

“IthoughtIdid,butIwaswrong,”hesaid.“Iwasblindandfoolish,sodeepindenialI

missedwhatwasrightinfrontofme.”Hetookastepforward,closingthatlastinchsomy
handspressedagainsthishardchest.

“Beau…”Iwhispered.

“Idon’thavethatproblemanymore.”

Istilled,swallowinghard.“No?”

Heshookhishead.

“And how did you come to this sudden realization?” I asked, heart racing so hard I

waslight-headed.

“I spent three weeks without you.” His jaw clenched. “They were the worst three

weeksofmylife.Idon’teverwanttogothroughthatagain.”

Ijolted,pullingback,buthishandsshotup,wrappingaroundmineandholdingthem

to the warmth of his body. I shook my head. “Don’t,” I said, starting to freak out. I
couldn’tputmyselfthroughthisagain.

“Don’t?”herepeated.“Don’ttellyouhowmuchofamessIamwithoutyou?ThatI

barelyleftmyplaceinthreeweeks.ThatIhaven’tslept,thatyourfaceisallIseewhenI
closemyeyes,thatyourvoiceisconstantlyinmyhead.”

“Beau—”

“Don’ttellyouhowmuchIgoddamnloveyou?”hesaid,voiceragged.

Myfingersflexedconvulsivelyagainsthischest.“What?”

“Iloveyou,Freya.”

“Youloveme?”

Hisbreathrattledfromhimashepulledmecloserandliftedmeinhismassivearms.

“Sofuckingmuch.”

Iwasstunnedspeechlessashecarriedmetothecouchandsatdown,pullingmeinto

hislap.

“When my mom left and my dad died, I learned a lesson, and that lesson was when

youlovesomeone,youhavesomethingtolose.”Hepalmedthesideofmyface.“Ididn’t
wanttoloseanyoneelse,soIcutmyselfofffromeventhepossibilityoflovinganyone…
of loving you. You were right, I was punishing myself for leaving the only people that
cared about me, for not being there for my grandfather, my brother, when they needed
me.”

Iblinked,myeyessuddenlystinging.

“Butthenyoucameintomyworldandshookmeup.ItriedtoconvincemyselfthatI

wasn’tfeelingwhatIwas,butdeepdownIknewit.Iknewit,anditterrifiedme.Then
you were stung and the thought that you could have died, that someday something like
thatcouldtakeyouawayfromme…Icouldn’tdealwithit.IfreakedoutandIpushedyou
away.”

Icuppedhisfaceinreturn.“You’renotafraidanymore?”

“I’mterrified,”hesaid.“ButIthinkthat’sjustpartoflovingsomeone.”

“Youreallyloveme?”Isaid,mymouthaninchfromhis.

“Yes,”hegrowled.

“EventhoughIcan’tfish—”

“Freya—”

“Orcook?”

“Idon’tcareaboutthat,andI’lldowhateverittakestomakethiswork.”

Iblinked,andatearstreakeddownmycheek.

“Ifyouwanttostayhere,I’llmove.I’llliveherewithyou.I’llgetajob.Wecangetan

apartment. I don’t care, as long as we’re together,” he said, determination in his deep
voice.

Another tear streaked down my face. “I can’t believe you’d give up your home, the

mountain,forme.”

His big hands gripped me tighter. “It doesn’t feel like home without you there, not

anymore.Home’swhereveryouare.”

Ipressedmymouthtohis,kissinghimwitheverythingIhad,alltheemotionsfilling

me to bursting. Finally, I lifted my head a little. “As lovely and sweet and generous as
yourofferis,it’snotwhatIwant.”

His Adam’s apple slid up and down his thick neck and his arms flexed around me.

“Freya,please,don’t…”

Irealizedhowthatsoundedandquicklyadded,“Doyouthinkyoucanteachthiscity

girltofish?”

“Areyousayingyouwantto…”Heswallowedhardagain,hiswordstrailingoff.

“Iloveyou,”Isaid.“I’velovedyoufromthemomentIsawyou.Mywildman.What

I’msayingisIwantyoutotakemehome.”

Beau took my face in his big, rough-skinned hands and kissed me with a fierceness

thatsaidallthatneededtobesaid.

Whenhefinallyendedthekiss,hisgazemovedovermyface,myhair,lingeredonmy

mouththenwentlower,andhegrowled.“You’rewearingmyshirt.”

Ismiled.“Istoleit,soIcouldstillfeelclosetoyou.”

Hehuffedoutabreathanddraggeditoffovermyhead,flingingitaside,andstarted

kissingmeagain.Thesoundofmyunderweartearingfrommybodycamenext.Idropped
myhandstothefrontofhisjeans,yankingthemopen.

Asecondlaterhewasinsideme.

Hisbigbodymovedwithmine,ourmouthsfused,feedingeachothermoans,rushed

words,anddesperatepleasuntilwecameaparttogether.

Later I lay against his chest, listening to the sound of his heart pounding, his solid

strength, his arms surrounding me, and he was right—as long as we were together, we
werehome.

“Iloveyou,”Isaid.

Hetiltedmyheadbackandpressedhislipstomine.“Iloveyou,too.”

EPILOGUE

ONEYEARLATER

REYA

ANK

AND

IRDIE

’

LAUGHTER

AND

THEIR

LITTLE

GIRLS

’

GIGGLES

FOLLOWED

headedupthestairsinsearchofmyhusband.

ItwasourturnforSundaynightdinner,andBeauhadtakenConnorupstairsafterI’d

fedhimtoputhimtobed.

Ipushedourbedroomdooropenandpaused,justtakinginthesightinfrontofme.No

matter how many times I saw it, the impact never lessened. Beau was standing by the
window,moonlightstreamingin,sobigandstrong.Solidthighsbracedapart,wideback,
biceps bulging, and cradled in those massive arms was our infant son. So tiny and
precious.

Beauwasrockingfromsidetoside,hisfacetilteddown,eyessoftandonhisson,and

hewashumming.

“Ishefightingit?”Ifinallysaid.

Beau turned to me, a gentle smile on his lips, and shook his head. “No, he was out

beforeIhitthetopofthestairs.”

I walked over and leaned into his side. “You’re a good dad, you know that, right?

SeeingyouwithConnor…youhavenoideahowbeautifulitis.”Ibrushedmyfingersover
our son’s head. “He’s not ever going to feel alone or unloved. He’ll know, he’ll always
knowhowmuchhisparentslovehim.”

Beau made a rough sound and planted a kiss on the top of my head before carrying

Connor to his crib and laying him down gently. He tucked the covers around him then
strodebacktome.Hisexpressionwasintense,determined.

Thenhewasthere,hisarmscamearoundme,andIwasliftedoffthefloorandpressed

against the wall, and his mouth came down on mine. He kissed me hard and deep and
hungryuntilIwasbreathlessandsquirmingagainsthim.

Finally,heliftedhisheadandstaredintomyeyes.“Andhe’llalwaysknowhowmuch

hisfatherloveshismother,thatbeforehefoundherhewasanemptyshell,searchingbut
never finding what he truly needed because he’d closed himself off to ever finding true

happiness.”

“Beau,”Iwhispered,wordsfailingme.Hehadawayofdoingthat.Sayingsomething

thatwassosweet,soprofound,itsimplyblewmeaway.

Hekissedmegentlyagain.“Ittookadeterminedcitygirltomakemeseethelight.”

Ismiledevenasmyeyesstungwithhappytears.“Andittookastubbornwildmanto

makemerealizeIdeservedthehappiness,thelove,I’dalwayscraved.”

“Iloveyou,”hesaid.

“Iknow,”Isaidback.“AndyoumakesureIknowiteveryday.”

I pressed my mouth to his one more time. “We better head back down. Hank and

Birdiewillwonderwhereweare.”

Beau scowled. “I don’t want to go back down. I want to throw you on that bed and

fuckyouuntilneitherofuscanseestraight.”

I did some more squirming. “You can’t say things like that to me when we have

guests.”

Beausmirked.“They’renotguests.It’sHankandBirdie.”

“Andthegirls.”Igavehisshoulderalittleshove,buthedidn’tbudge.“Beau…”

“I don’t want to let you go,” he said. “What if I’m quick? I’ll bend you over the

dresserandfuckyouhardandfast,howaboutthat?”

The man was killing me. “You’re not playing fair,” I said, trying not to laugh at his

hopefulexpression.“Theanswer’sstillno.Wehavetogobackdown.”

Beau’slipsflattened.“Ican’tgodownlikethis.”Hegroundhiscockintome,andI

gasped.

“Thathastobeuncomfortable.”

“Noshit,”hegrumbled.

“I’llmakeitbetterassoonastheyleave,”Isaid.

He dragged his mouth up the side of my neck, his beard tickling my skin. “You

promise?”hesaid,lowandrough.“Areyougoingtoletmefuckyouonthelivingroom
floorassoonastheywalkoutthedoor?”

Iwaspanting.“Yes.”

Reluctantly,hesteppedback.

I swallowed, mouth dry, body hot and achy, and forced myself to head for the door,

legsmorethanalittleshaky.BeforeIwalkedthrough,Ilookeddownatmyselftomake
sure I was presentable. My nipples were hard and could be seen through my shirt. I
glancedbackatBeau,whowasstillbythewindowandhiseyeswereonme.Thelookhe
wasgivingmehadmesqueezingmythighstogether.

“Fuckwaiting,”hebitoutandcharged.

Idartedoutthedoor,unabletocontrolmylaughterasIrandownthestairswithBeau

comingaftermelikeaderangedbull.

WhenIhitthebottomofthestairsIexpectedtoseeHankandBirdie,buttheliving

roomwasempty.IspunaroundjustasBeauexplodedintotheroom.

“They’regone,”Isaid.“Howembarrassing!We’retheworstdinnerhostsintheentire

world.”

BeaukeptcomingasIbackedup.

“Youhaven’tnoticedthemdisappearingwhenwe’rethere?”

“Well,yes,”Isaidasmybackmetthewall.

“Theywerebeingnice.Theyobviouslyworkedoutweneededsomealonetime,”he

said.

“Beau,”Iwarnedasheclosedin.

“I’mgonnafuckyouonthefloornow,”hesaid,andthenhewasliftingmeandtaking

medownontheruginfrontofthefire.

Igaveupthefightinstantly.Imean,whywouldIfightit?Iwrappedmyarmsaround

hisneckandmylegsaroundhiships.

“Youready?”heasked.

“Always.”

THEEND

ThankyouforreadingWildMan!

HaveyoureadMountainManyet?Hank’sstoryisthefirstinTheSmithBrothersseries.

MOUNTAINMAN

(TheSmithBrothers#1)

HankSmithsavedmylife,carryingmethroughablizzardtohismountaincabin.He

doesn’tlikestrangers,andhedoesn’tlikeleavinghissanctuary.NowI’mtrappedhere

withhimuntilthesnowmelts.

Iseehimlookingatme.Hetriestohidebehindagruffexterior,butIseethelongingand

theheatburninginhiseyes.Iknowhewantsme,andIcan’tresisthim.Iwanttofeel

thosebig,roughhandsallovermybody.

Butoncehe’sunleashedhisraw,barelytrieddesireonme,willIbeabletoleavemy

mountainmanbehind,orwillhemakemehis?

Ifyou’reinthemoodformoreheroeslikeTheSmithBrothers,largerthanlifewithaheart

ofgold,youcouldtryHughfrom

SWERVE

(BoostedHearts#1).

OrElijahfrom

BREAKINGHIM

.Keepturningforanexcerptofchapterone!

I’dlovetohearwhatyouthoughtofWildMan.Ifyouhaveafewmomentstoleavea

review,I’dbeincrediblygrateful.

ALSOBYSHERILEEGRAY

TheSmithBrothers:

MountainMan

WildMan

LawlessKings:

BoostedHearts:

AxleAlleyVipers:

BlackHillsPack:

StandAloneNovels:

ABOUTTHEAUTHOR

SherileeGrayisakiwigirlandlivesinbeautifulNewZealandwithherhusbandandtheirtwochildren.Whensheisn’t
writingsexy,edgycontemporaryromance,searchingforhernextalphaheroonPinterest,orfuelinghervoraciousbook
addiction,shecanbefounddreamingoffaroffplaceswithamugofteainonehandandabarofCadburysRockyRoad
chocolateintheother.

Tofindoutaboutnewreleases,giveaways,eventsandothercoolstuff,signupformy

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BREAKINGHIM

CHAPTERONE

The dry Montana heat was unforgiving today. Dust coated the back of my throat, my
sweat-slickedskinpricklingfromtheharshmiddaysun.Thethunderofhoovesdrewmy
attentionfromunpeggingthelaundryandovertothefieldbehindthehouse.Twoofmy
horses galloped along the fence line, kicking up more dust as they passed. I lifted my
ponytailfrommystickyneckandshieldedmyeyestowatch.

Theyslowed,dancedaroundeachother,sizingtheotherup.

Beautiful.

Iwipedthesweatfrommybrowandlookedtothesky,searchingforrainclouds.We

wereinthemiddleofadrought,sufferingthehighesttemperatureswe’dhadinoverten
years.Ihadanimalstofeed,aranchtokeepafloat.Iftheraindidn’tcomesoon,I’dhave
the bank manager out here again, hounding me. These were the things that should be
occupyingmymindasItuggedthelasttowelfromtheclothesline.

ButhowcouldIconcentrateonanyofthatwiththelow,steadymurmursearchingme

out,comingtomeonthelightbreeze?Thewaythatgravellyyetsoothingvoicewasbeing
used to gentle one of my skittish mares made me tingle all over, until I was forced to
squeezemythighstogether.

Folks around town called Elijah Hays a monster. They were intimidated, scared of

him.Evensaidhewasdangerous.Nottohisface.Nevertohisface.You’dhavetobea
stupidsonofabitchtosayanyofthosethingstoEli—andcrazierthantheyaccusedhim
ofbeing.ButI’dneverseenhimthatway.Notonce.Itrustedhimtotakecareofmyranch
justlikemyfatherhad.

Theranch’smainincomecamefromcattle,butwiththedroughtandeveryoneselling

stocktogetby,unabletoaffordthefeed,cattlepriceshaddroppedtoanall-timelow.If
we sold now, we’d never recover. We usually survived the dry season by selling off the
wildhorseswebroughtinandbrokeforaniceprofit.Mydadlovedhorses,hadwantedto
eventuallyexpandthatsideofourbusiness.Butthisyear,withhimgoneandonlyElihere
toworkthem,Ididn’tknowifwe’dmakeitthrough.

Pushing back the strands of hair that had come loose from my ponytail, I turned to

watch him, unable to help myself. How could I see him as the townspeople did when I
witnessedhimlikethiseachandeveryday?ElihadawaywithhorsesunlikeanyoneI’d

seen. It fascinated me, watching this huge, at times unnerving, man care for and baby
them. The way he could break a horse with kindness—taming, bending them to his will
withwhisperedwordsandthosebig,gentlehands—untiltheyseemeddesperatetoplease
him.

Hestoodbesidethemare,onehandgrippingthewidebrush,draggingitoverhershiny

coat, the other following in its wake while he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. My
attention was drawn to his forearms, corded and veined, dusted with dark hair. Pure
strength.Hishandsneverleftheronce.AndGod,theywerebeautifulhands—hugeandso
damnrough.IknewthisbecausewhenIbroughthimcoffeeintheafternoons,hisfingers
wouldbrushagainstmine.Butwhathadmynippleshardeningagainstthesoftcottonof
my dirt-streaked tank top was his unbelievably wide back. It was bulked up with thick
slabs of lickable muscle, deeply tanned from hours spent outdoors. My gaze dropped to
soft,wornLevi’ssittinglowonhiships,cuppinganassthatwasmeanttobesqueezed,
andoften.

Butifwhatpeoplesaidwastrue,noonehadeversqueezedthatmagnificentass.No

onehadseenwhathehadhiddenbehindthatstrainingzipper,either…

Hesweptthebrushacrossthemare’ssideagainandagain,biceps—thickasoneofmy

thighs—bunchingandrolling,dancingasheworked.I’dneverseenthelikesofhiminmy
life.Themanwasbeautiful,masculineonawholenewlevel.Andheabsolutelyfascinated
me.

ThesoundthathadbeensteadilybuildinginmychestslidpastmylipsbeforeIcould

stopit.Theneedymoanloudenoughforhimtohear.Ispunaroundbeforehecaughtme
staring,quicklybendingtopickupthewashbasketatmyfeet.Butitwastoolate.I’dbeen
caught. The rhythmic cadence of Elijah’s deep voice cut off suddenly, followed by the
crunchofgravelunderhisbootsashespunaround.

Hedidn’tsayanything.Herarelydid,nottome—besidesthe“pleaseandthankyous”

he quietly rasped whenever I brought him food or drink. Otherwise he kept to himself.
Haddonesosincehestartedworkingheretwelvemonthsago.

Ishiveredagain,thatfamiliarzipofelectricityshootingacrossmyshouldersanddown

my spine. His eyes were on me. He had beautiful eyes, wide and thickly lashed. They
were often on me, maybe as much as mine were on him. I liked it. I didn’t see Eli as a
monster.Becauseifhehadmurderedhisfatherwhenhewasjustaboy,likeeveryonesaid,
themanhaddeservedit.Mydad,Godresthissoul,hadsaidsomanytimes.SaidWyatt
Hayshadbeenameansonofabitchandhewassurprisednoonehaddoneitbeforehis
sontookakitchenknifetohimdefendinghismom.

But the folks here were still wary of him. I’m sure people who visited Deep River

thought they’d stepped back in time. The people born in our isolated, backwater town
generally lived and died here. And that’s the way they liked it. Anyone different from
them…scaredthem.Theydidn’tlikethewayElijahrarelyspoke,thewayhekepthimself
apart. Though plenty of the women liked the way he looked just fine. I’d seen the lust-
filled glances cast his way. Still, they kept their distance, would never dream of
approachinghim,frightenedbyhisdarkpast,thegossipthatsurroundedhim.Hissizeand
strengthwereintimidating,notthatI’deverseenhimusethemagainstanyoneinanger.

No, Elijah preferred his own company, and I didn’t blame him. Not when he’d only

everbeensubjectedtotheugliestversionsofeveryonearoundhim.

When he wasn’t busy with the ranch, he was reading, or giving the sand-filled bag

he’dsuspendedinthecornerofthebarnabeating.

Hewasamystery,andIhadn’tgottenanyclosertohim,learnedanymoreabouthim,

inthesixmonthssincemyfatherpassedawayandItookoverrunningtheranch.Because
despitethewayhewatchedme,hesentoffunmistakabledon’t-come-any-closervibesthat
couldbefeltfiftyyardsaway.

“MissAbigail?”

Ijoltedinsurprise,goosebumpspoppingupallovermyskinlikeanicybreezehad

washed over me at the sound of his low voice edged with that delicious growl. Elijah
never initiated a conversation. Not when he didn’t have to. His voice sounded cautious,
gritty,nothinglikethetoneheusedonmyhorses.

My heart galloped faster as I turned on shaky legs. I plastered a smile on my face,

forcing my eyes to stay above his shoulders. “Oh, hey, Eli,” I said, like I hadn’t been
acutely aware of his quiet, dominating presence the whole time. Eli knew his job better
thanIdid.TheonlytimeIsoughthimoutwaswhenIneededhimtocometotownand
helpmecollectsupplies.Iusuallyjustwrotewhatneededdoingonanotepadinthebarn,
andhedidit.Isquintedagainstthesun,takingseveralstepscloser,laundrybasketresting
onmyhip.“Mare’slookinggood.”

His brown eyes were locked on mine, making me squirm. He dipped his chin, dark

hairthatwasdarkerfromsweatfallingforwardacrosshisbrow.Damn,themanhadaway
oflookingataperson,direct,unwavering.Tellingyouwithoutwordsthathedidn’tcare
whatyouthoughtabouthim,thathedidn’tcareonewhitifyoubelievedallthetalkabout
hispastorwhatyouropinionwasaboutit,either.Ididn’tknowifthatwastrueornot,or
ifitwasadefensemechanismhe’dbuilttoprotecthimself,butitwasunnervingashell.

I retreated a step. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to it. I have to…ah, go get ready.” He

didn’tsayanything,justkepthissteadygazelockedonmine,andasusualmymouthran
awaywithme,tryingtofilltheinevitablesilenceswhenwewerealone.“I’vegotadate,
youknow,withKyle,soIbetter…”

Something flickered behind his eyes, something that had the skin crinkling at the

corners—notfromasmile,no,heneverdidthat—helookedtense,strained.Thatsquare,
scruff-covered jaw was tight. His Adam’s apple slid up and down the front of his thick
neck before his expression smoothed out, once again impassive. My eyes dipped, like
someone else had control over their movement. His sudden discomfort made my thigh
muscles clench, wanting to move me closer, to brush his hair back and search his gaze
untilIknewwhatcausedthatunease.

Thenmybrainregisteredwhatmyeyeswerelookingat,andIsuckedinabreathatthe

sightofhisbarechest.Somethingabouthissize…hisbulk…Thebrownhairthatdusted
hispecs,bisectinghisdeeplyridgedabs,allthewaydowntothewaistbandofhisjeans,
mademelosemybreatheverydamntime.

Those tight abs tightened further, and my eyes darted up. Color darkened his broad

cheekbones, but that was the only sign that he’d caught me ogling him. His rugged
featuresremainedarrangedintheirusualinscrutableposition.

The strong and sudden urge to force him to react, to tempt him past his control—to

climb that massive, ripped body, wrap my thighs around his hips, and hang on while he
buckedintomelikeanornerybull,snarlingandgruntinguntilwewerebothspent—was
nearoverwhelming.

Then I noticed the way his powerful fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. It

wasn’tthreatening.Hewasuncomfortable.Guiltswirledinmybelly.Hemaywatchme
sometimes,buthe’dnevergivenanyindicationthathewantedmore.Hewashappywith
thehorses,withhisowncompany.IhatedthatI’dmadehimuneasy.He’dhadenoughof
thathiswholelife,beingstaredatlikeasideshowfreak.Irefusedtobelumpedinwiththe
gossipingtownsfolkwhisperingbehindhisback,speculating,judging.Eliwasn’tthekind
of man you toyed with, and I’d been reminded six months ago, as my dad was lowered
intotheground,thatcloseties,relationships…love,onlyevercausedpain.

“Well,it’sgettinglate…”

Hemotionedtotheoverflowingbasketinmyarms.“Letme.”

At those two words, just an innocent statement, my heart jumped forward, smacking

against my ribs, my quickening pulse relocating itself between my thighs. “I’ve got it.
Thanks,though.”Istumbledbackanotherstep.LikeIhadtwoleftfeet.“Youhaveagood
evening,Eli.”Thenturningaway,Ihustledmyassinside.

AndsomehowIknewhisintensestarefollowedmethewholeway.…

***

“Girl,I’msickofyourdamnteasing.”Kyledraggedhissweatyhandhigherundermy

skirt.“Youfinallygonnagivemewhat’sunderhere,orwhat?”

Therewasaslightslurtohisvoice,aslurIhadn’tnoticedwhenweleftthebar.“How

muchdidyouhavetodrink?Yousaidyouonlyhadacouplebeers.”

He shrugged. “A few shots as well.” He grinned in a way I knew he thought was

charming,butwithagutfullofbeerandwhiskey,hejustlookedlikeabig,dumbidiot.

I’d known Kyle since high school. Back then he’d been a chauvinistic, irresponsible

asshole; it seemed nothing had changed. When he’d asked me out a month ago, I’d
decidedtogivehimthebenefitofthedoubt,hopinghe’dmatured.Thefactthathewas
good-looking,built,andhadallhisteethmayhaveplayedapartinmydecisiontogive
himashot.Nottomentionaneight-month-longdryspellandanitchthatneededonehell
ofagoodscratch.Butnothingwasgoingtohappenheretonight.Notnow,notever.

Ishovedthepassengerdooropenandslammeditshutbehindme.Hisdoorwrenched

open as well, and he rounded the car fast. Grabbing my arm, he hauled me back and
pinnedmetothecarbeforeI’dbarelytakentwosteps.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” He pressed into me, the liquor on his breath

invadingmynostrils.“Timeyoupaidup,honey.I’vedonethetime,takenyouout,bought
youaburger,drinks,allthatshit.Timetogiveitup.”

I shoved at his shoulders. “You’ve lost your goddamn mind, Kyle Harris.” I tried to

wrigglefree,buthewasn’thavinganyofit.“Backthehellup,getinyourcar,andgetout
ofhere.”

Grindinghisharddickagainstmyleg,hegruntedandnippedmyearlobe,yankingmy

shirtdownovermyshoulder.“Cock-teasingwhore.Whatthefu—”

Kylewasonmeoneminute,thenbeingpulledawaythenext.Myjawwentslackas

Elijah, fingers wrapped around the back of Kyle’s neck, dragged him like a sack of
potatoestothedriver’ssideandslammedhimface-firstagainstit.Kyleflailedandcursed
whilehewasbeingmanhandled.Thedoorwasyankedopen,andElishovedhiminlike
hisownpersonalragdoll,thenslammeditshutbehindhim.

The expression on Kyle’s face as he blinked up at the big man through the window

was priceless. He looked shit-scared when he realized who he was staring at. The car
startedasecondlater,thenitwasgonethenext,leavingacloudofdustinhiswake.

My gaze shot to Eli. I don’t know how it was possible, but the man looked even

bigger,musclesflexing,jawtight,nostrilsflaringwitheachangrybreath.“Elijah?”Itook
asteptowardhim,andhejerkedbacksuddenly,shockcoveringhisface,beforeheturned
andstormedtowardthebarn.Thebangofthedoorafterhimwasloud,echoingthrough
thequietnight.

I had two options: I could go inside like a coward and pretend what just happened

hadn’t,orIcouldgoafterhim,thankhimforcomingtomyrescue,andattempttoerase
someofthatworryI’dseeninhisdarkeyes.

Wipingmysweatyhandsonmyskirt,Iheadedtowardthebarn.Itwasstillhotout,but

there was a breeze, and the light floaty fabric of my skirt whispered around my thighs.
AnticipationignitedlowinmybellyasIneared,thenthedeep,repetitivethumpofthose
solidfistsconnectingwiththepunchingbaginthecornerofthebarnreachedmyears.

I’dheardthesamesoundoftenashebeatthecrapoutofthatbag,butthistimewas

different. He was hitting harder, faster, working off his anger and frustration. Maybe I
shouldbeafraid.Maybegoingintherenowwasadamnstupididea,butIcouldn’tmake
my feet stop, couldn’t make them turn me around. Pressing a hand to the barn door, I
pusheditopenandsteppedinside.

The familiar scent of hay and motor oil hit me first. Every light was on, throwing a

golden wash into the corners. A tractor took up one side of the barn. Tools and other
equipmentwerescatteredontheworkbenchthatranthelengthofthewall.Ontheother
sidewasaroughwoodenstaircasethatledtoEli’srooms,andinthecorner,beatingthe
helloutofthatbag,wasthemanhimself.

Istoodtheremotionless,unabletotakeastepcloser,yetIcouldn’tturnandwalkout,

either. As if he sensed me, he stopped abruptly and spun around. His wild stare crashed
withmine,andIsuckedinabreath.Everyrippedmuscle,vein,andtendonbulged.He’d
obviouslytuggedoffhisshirtwhenhe’dwalkedin,becausenowhischestwasbareand
glistenedwithsweat.Hewasbreathingheavily,fistsstillclenchedtightly.

“MissAbigail?”hesaidthroughpantedbreaths.

Despitethatwildstareandthewayhisbodythrobbedwithaggression,whenhespoke,

none of it came through. His cheeks were dark from exertion, mouth slightly parted as
each heavy breath pumped from his lungs, struggling to maintain control, but still he
hadn’tdirectedanyofthatangeratme.

Imanagedtoungluemyfeetandstartedtowardhim.HeseemedtobracehimselfasI

moved closer, hands on hips, back and shoulders stiff. When I stopped in front of him,
insteadofhisdirectstare,heaimedhiseyesattheground.“Eli?”Hedidn’tmove,didn’t
speak.Reachingout,Itouchedhisarm.“Elijah?”

Hejolted,musclestighteningundermyfingers.God,Ifelttinystandingthiscloseto

him.Hefinallyanswered,voicelow,“Ma’am.”

Mynipplestightenedpainfully.Hedidn’tpullaway.“Ijust…Iwantedtothankyoufor

whatyoudidbackthere.”

His head was still down, not allowing me to see those dark eyes. Without thought, I

reachedup,threadingmyfingersinhishair,andtippedhisheadback.Myonlythought
hadbeentogetthoseeyesonmeagain.Ineededthemonme.

Mybellydippedandswirledattheroughsoundthattorefromhisthroat.Iwasabout

topullaway,toapologize,buthetiltedhishead,pressingmorefirmlyagainstmypalm,
moving the tiniest bit closer. Finally, he raised his chin, thick lashes lifting, and I had
them.Mybodyzapped,sparked,breathescapinginarush,heatcurlingandgrowinglikea
wildfirewasspreadingovermyskin.

“Youlikemyhandsonyou?”IwhisperedbeforeIcouldthinkbetterofit.

Hisbreathinghadgrownragged,asoftness,avulnerabilityinhiseyesthatmademe

wanttogivehimeverythingIdidn’tthinkhe’dallowhimselftoaskfor.Hisgazedartedto
my bare shoulder, where Kyle had yanked my shirt down, and his wide chest expanded
withhissharpinhalation.Hedidn’tlikethereminderofwhathappened,ofKyletouching
methatway.

“Doyouwanttotouchme,Eli?”Icouldbarelybelievethewordsthatjustcameoutof

mymouth,butIdidn’twanttotakethemback,Iwantedthosemassivehandsonme,had
wantedthemonmeforthelongesttime.Thetipofhistonguedartedout,slidingacross
hisbottomlip,thenhisheaddipped,justafraction.

“Youdo,don’tyou?”

Hestareddownatme,hislargeframe,thickwithmuscle,toweringoverme,looking

like he could pick up that tractor beside us and fling it halfway across the field, which
madethealmostinnocentcuriosity,therestrainedexcitementhewascurrentlyaimingmy
wayallthemoresurprising.

“Yes,” he rasped, cheeks darkening further. He made no move to touch me, though,

kepthisarmsathissides,fingerscurledinloosefists,bracingforIdidn’tknowwhat.I
reacheddown,takingoneofhishandsinmine,liftingitslowly.TheskinwasasroughasI
rememberedandhot,sodamnhot.Hesmelledofcleansweat,theoutdoors,thesoaphe
used.Thecombinationwasincrediblysexy.Iuncurledhisfingersandrestedhishandjust
abovemyheart.Mytopwaslowcut,sowewereskintoskin,andmybodywentupin

flamesfromthatsimpletouch.

I watched him, gauging his reaction. His eyes were locked on his fingers. His hands

were scarred with cracks and gouges, dark and stained, as clean as they ever got. The
contrastagainstmylighter,smooth,unblemishedskinwasstartling—exciting.

“Isthiswhatyouwant?”Iaskedsoftly.

Hedippedhisheadagain,fingersflexingslightly,stareintent,scorching.

“More?”

“Yes…please.”

Oh God, the way he said it, deep, rough… I jammed my legs together, the throb

between my thighs making me reckless, making me do things, say things I might not
usually.Buthereinthebarn,soquietandstill,itwasjustusandthismoment.Icouldn’t
stopevenifIwantedto.

Wrapping my fingers around his thick wrist, the coarse hairs tickling my skin, I

loweredhishandslowly,untilhispalmgrazedtheswellofmybreast.“Youevertoucheda
womanhere,Eli?”

Heshiftedhisweightfromonefoottotheother,jawtightening,thenshookhishead.

Icouldbarelybelieveit.No,hedidn’ttalkmuch,kepttohimself,buthewassmart,

gorgeous,andaharderworkerI’dnevermet.“Whynot?”

Hedidn’tanswer,justkepthiseyeslockedwithmine.Ananswerwasn’tnecessary.I

knewwhy—thesamereasoneveryoneinthistownkepttheirdistance.Fear.Imovedhis
handlower,strugglingtobreathewhentheroughskinofhispalmdraggedovermyhard,
achingnipple.Heswallowedaudiblyandmadeanotheroneofthosehungry,lowsounds.

“Yourskin’ssohot,”Iwhispered,curlingmyfingersaroundhis,encouraginghimto

squeezeme.Heflexedthem,buthedidn’tletupthistime,no,hepressedin,tightening
aroundmeinawaythathadmesoakingmypanties.“Feelsgood?”

“Yes,ma’am.”Whenhesaidthosewords,therewasasparkofsomethingthrillingin

hiseyes.Hisnostrilsflared.“Betterthangood.”

DearGod,itwas.WhatthehellwasIdoing?

Tapheretokeepreading

BREAKINGHIM

Document Outline

Epilogue
About Wild Man
Freya
Beau
Also by Sherilee Gray
About the Author
BREAKING HIM

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