Cecilia, present day

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CeCe shrieked with joy as they went over a huge dune of snow. Dune? Was that even the correct word? She knew that there were sand dunes, but were there snow dunes?

Clearly, she’d been out of the Midwest and in California for too long if she couldn’t remember the correct term.

Pile?

Drift? Ah, yes! That was it.

They’d gone up and over, their sled bumping to the ground with a jolt that threatened to steal her breath, but then Colin had his arm around her waist, tucking her safely against his side and all of the hard muscles there. He was taking his job of keeping her safely in the basket very seriously, so her breathlessness was purely sexy Scot related.

Also, it was fun.

The dogs were barking as they towed the sled forward, little doggy smiles on their mouths, tails bouncing as they ran.

Adorable. If they weren’t so noisy, she’d almost want a team for herself.

Yup, that would be super practical in California.

Hold on Hunter and Carter, let’s jump on the sled and take the dogs down for a Happy Meal at McDonald’s.

Totally doable, right?

Colin leaned down, the stubble on his chin teasing the skin behind her left ear. “What are you smiling about?”

She turned her head and spoke directly into his ear, so he could hear her over the barking, knowing she had a giant grin on her face. “How much the kids would love this.”

His face softened but his eyes heated and that space between her thighs, the one that had just been pleasantly filled and stretched and pleased a few hours before went tight.

And wet.

And Colin apparently knew that because his lips curved up and his tongue flicked against that spot behind her ear that she really, really loved when he teased. “Later,” he said. “Later I’ll . . .”

And her jaw dropped open as he detailed every dirty thing he planned to do to her when they got back to their cabin.

Her pulse was pounding when he’d finished. Because, damn, his words were better than Abby’s chapter sixteen.

“But first,” he continued, “you’re going to enjoy your sledding and gold panning and then we’re going to have a nice dinner.”

“And a sauna?” she asked breathless.

“As long as you’re naked and in my arms,” he said, hand tightening on her waist.

Her lips tipped up even as her hand drifted down for a squeeze. “I think that can be arranged.”

“I’ve decided that I don’t like gold panning,” CeCe declared, falling back onto the bed.

Her arms ached, absolutely ached after an hour of shaking the pan from side to side and not finding anything more than silt, rocks, and mud.

“Not convinced you’ll find your fortune in the river?”

“Even if I’d been dreaming of finding a huge nugget, a la Sutter’s Mill, I think that this afternoon would prove I’d be crazy to continue with that fantasy.”

Colin smiled as he plunked down next to her and gathered her in his arms. “What’s Sutter’s Mill?”

“Oh,” Cecilia said, realizing that he probably wouldn’t know much about U.S. history or what had sparked the California Gold Rush. “I got on a Netflix documentary kick awhile back and watched a ton of historical ones. This dude named James Marshall found gold in the 1800s and people came flocking west.”

Colin kissed her forehead. “I like it when you say dude.”

“I’m apparently a true Californian now. I say it to mean man or woman, senior or child, and as a curse, a plea, or an exclamation.”

He nodded sagely. “You a master of all things dude-related.”

She smirked. “It’s funny to hear you say dude.”

“It’s not that common of a word in Scotland.”

CeCe rolled over in his embrace, settling atop of him with her chin resting on her folded arms. “But it has so many uses.”

“Apparently so.” He stroked a finger down her cheek. “But the marvelous uses of dude aside, are you okay?”

“I think so.” She paused, raising a finger when he started to open his mouth. “No. That’s not entirely true. I am okay, but I feel almost . . . flayed open? I don’t know how to describe it. Like I’m too vulnerable and I keep waiting—” She bit off the rest of her sentence, knowing the words weren’t entirely fair.

But even though they remained unsaid, Colin heard them anyway.

His eyes darkened. “You’re waiting for me to hurt you again.”

She hesitated.

He sighed and cupped the back of her neck, forcing her stare to his. “Dammit. I’m so sorry you were hurt, sweetheart, and I want to promise that it won’t happen ever again. That I won’t hurt you. But—”

“You can’t.” She stared into his blue eyes, seeing the truth there. It was obviously something he didn’t care to admit, but no one knew the future.

How could he promise to never hurt her?

It was unrealistic. Impossible.

People hurt each other all the time.

It’s just that . . . she really wanted that promise from Colin. No. What she really wanted was for it to be the truth. That he would magically transform into that mythical hero, sweep her off her feet, and they would ride off into the sunset.

But myths were myths for a reason.

They were stories. Fantasies.

Fantasies that are grounded in reality, her heart argued. That’s where fairy tales come from. There’s always a kernel of truth and reality within them.

And great, now she was bickering with herself over the future of a relationship that would probably never be.

“I want to be the man you deserve,” he whispered and the torment in his expression made her heart ache.

“I want that too,” she whispered back. “So, so much.”

Except she didn’t believe in fairy tales.

She couldn’t allow herself to.

Not any longer.