Connall stepped out of the plane, shielding his eyes against the bright late-morning sun. It was much cooler here, with epic backdrops of trees and foothills lining the sides of the small airstrip. He’d come prepared, though, a result of his overzealous research as he prepared for this trip. His extra-insulated ski jacket was zipped up tight. He extended the handle of his rolling luggage once he touched the tarmac.

He’d been the only passenger on the plane, but it wasn’t a private flight. He just assumed it was a lesser-frequented route; judging by his surroundings, people didn’t often come here. In the distance, a 4x4 Jeep was parked, a woman leaning against the side, dark brown hair fluttering in the breeze. From the way his skin prickled, he knew it was Bernadette.

Once he was close enough to see her face, she broke into a run toward him. Her smile sent him into the stratosphere. She laughed and leapt into his arms, hugging him as if they’d been apart for years instead of weeks. He pressed her tightly against him, adrenaline and lust and anxiety flooding him all at once.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” She swatted his shoulder, looking up at him as if he were a ghost. “You’re seriously the first person to follow through and visit me.”

Hearing her voice again was a strange treat. After so much emailing back and forth, being able to talk to her face-to-face felt somehow intimidating. He didn’t have a full evening to craft his response. He was here with her now.

“Apparently, I missed the memo about why I needed to avoid visiting,” he cracked, smoothing his hands over her shoulders. He wanted to kiss her…but he didn’t want to push his luck, either. Come on too strong. “If you’re here, I can’t see why I shouldn’t come.”

She hummed happily, then took his hand in both of hers. “Come on. Let’s go. We should get started now, because I have lunch cooking for us back at the lodge.”

“Lunch?” He checked his watch, following her.

“It’s about an hour to get there,” she said over her shoulder. “We’ll be hungry!”

He climbed into the passenger side of the Jeep after storing his bag in the backseat. Dust and flecks of mud coated the outside of the car. He immediately thought to offer her a detailing but stopped himself. How absurd would that be for out here? It would last thirty seconds. The Jeep started with a loud roar. She grinned at him and then took off. Her happiness wasn’t just palpable, it was contagious. He couldn’t stop the smile covering his face. Not now that he was back with Bernadette.

They chatted easily as she navigated the roads of the small town; they passed old-timey stores and a post office that looked like they were straight from the Gold Rush era. But soon the village ended, and they were headed north on a one-lane road, miles and miles of land stretching out around them.

Within ten minutes, Connall’s cell phone signal faded to nothingness. Bernadette confirmed this with a grim look.

“It’s impossible to get calls at the sanctuary. It’s just really deep, you know?”

Connall tried to ignore the twang of anxiety inside him. He knew this would happen—had been mentally preparing himself for weeks. But still, confronting the moment of disconnect was a strange burden all its own.

“It’s been ages since I’ve been truly disconnected,” he mused.

“It’s freeing,” she said. “I promise. Besides, we have each other.” She reached over, patting his hand. “If anything goes wrong.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better about when I’m not here,” he said.

She grinned. Maybe she liked his worry, his protection. “I have colleagues, you know. It’s not just me all the time out there.”

“I’m excited to see your place. From what I imagine, we’ll climb up a rope to get inside, is that right?”

She snorted. “Not quite. But close. You’ll see.”

They drove deeper into the wilderness of Montana. At a certain point, Connall couldn’t recall the last time they’d passed a car. Trees grew more densely, packed together in clusters, bordering on a forest. The road grew bumpy on occasion, as if it hadn’t been maintained for years. After a while, she took a sharp left, careening down another, even more poorly maintained road. The journey grew jerky and jolting.

“This is the outer layer of the forest,” Bernadette explained, shifting into low gear as she maneuvered down the bumpy path. “This is technically where the habitat begins. And if my proposal gets accepted, this area will soon be included in the sanctuary, too.”

Connall gazed up at the towering pines and spruces, the immensity of nature bearing down on him. His brother Alistair was a big fan of adventures like these—getting lost in open spaces, relying on the unknown. For Connall, the unknown was a gamble. A wild card. He didn’t like dealing with unknowns; it butted up against his need for precision and control.

“I’ve never been somewhere like this,” Connall mused after a few moments, unable to rip his gaze from the blur of trees passing them by. He was suddenly desperate to smell the air.

“I’m not surprised.” Bernadette sent him a mysterious grin. “It’s not easy to find a place like this. Just wait.”

After another half hour of bumps and some more tour-guide explanations from Bernadette, she slowed the Jeep to a crawl. A tall fence lined with what looked like chicken wire followed some unknown property line to their left. The road curved a bit and then ended at a makeshift parking lot, nothing more than a square of asphalt, big enough to hold two cars.

And before them sat—or rather, hovered—the lodge.

“Here it is.” Her eyes gleamed as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “Come on!”

She led him toward the staircase with the enthusiasm of a young child eager to share her prized toys. The lodge was more of a yurt on stilts, though connected to other yurts, or treehouses, or whatever they might be, via hanging walkways. The structures were made out of blond wood, designed tactfully and elegantly, with domed centers wafting smoke and wide observation decks encircling each pod.

It was like a treehouse colony, tucked away in the middle of nowhere.

“Holy hell,” Connall said, neck hurting from craning to look upward. She bounded up the stairs, urging him onward. “Did you design this?”

“No, no. I’m not an architect.” When he reached the deck, she fumbled to produce her key. “I knew someone who was able to collaborate on the vision. All in all, this is a scientific lodge, but it has plenty of amenities that make it something of a resort, too.” She grinned, pushing on the solid wood door. It creaked as it opened, revealing a cozy scene inside. “After you.”

Connall stepped inside, greeted by a blast of warm air. The floors gleamed bright and clean, smooth wood the same color as the exterior. A few long, patterned rugs crisscrossed the floors. Couches faced the fireplace in the center of the treehouse. A simple kitchen wrapped around the far wall. And to their right, the master bed, neatly made with bright throw pillows arranged on top.

“It’s like a circular studio apartment,” she explained, slipping her shoes off. “This is my house, though. When colleagues come, they use one of the other pods. And the bulk of our equipment is in another. But some of it is in here.”

She led him around through the kitchen, where a slow cooker steamed with unknown deliciousness that smelled a lot like chili, to the opposite side of the tree house. A small office was set up, strange machines blinking, a few monitors showing the forest floor.

“Some of these are hooked up to sound recording devices,” she said, pointing to a couple monitors. “And then others are connected to surveillance systems, like this one.” She pointed to the live stream of the forest floor. “We can enter the sanctuary quite a way via rope bridge, but we’ve positioned a large amount of equipment throughout the property to cover what we can’t personally watch.”

He blinked, taking it all in. “Have you ever published your research?”

“Oh, of course.” She rattled off a few journal names, ones that even he recognized. “I present at two conferences a year, minimum.”

“Brilliant.” He scanned the wall behind her desk, finding a few framed awards. “You’re a proper expert.”

“Well, yes.” She flushed, looking up at him with an adorably shy grin. “I am.”

They watched each other for a few moments, grinning like fools. Finally, he said, “Bernadette. You're so amazing, do you know that?”

“You’re only saying that because I lured you to my treehouse,” she teased.

He stepped closer, cupping her face in his hands. “I’m so proud of you.” He brought his lips to hers, brushing them gently, just needing a brief taste of her at least. She stiffened beneath him, clutching at his hands. When he tried to pull back she leaned in for more, a small noise escaping her as he deepened the kiss.

Her tongue pressed into his mouth, and he tasted her hunger, her absolute desperation for this melding. He grunted, wrapping an arm around her, bringing her body hard against his.

She moaned low, cinching her arms around his neck. “Connall. I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”

“Not out here, please.” He brushed his lips against her forehead. “I’m not quite sure how to get us to the nearest hospital.”

She laughed weakly, tipping her head back to look him in the eye. “I’ve been fantasizing about these kisses for weeks.”

“I know you have.” He brushed his thumb against her cheek. “So have I.”

Her eyes burned dark and desirous. “Give me more.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He dipped down, capturing her lips with his, pressing his tongue inside her mouth, tangling his with hers. They kissed so deeply that his body buzzed with need, his dick hard and seeking against the waistband of his pants. Bernadette wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her slight frame against him, her lower belly nuzzled up against his cock.

“We should have lunch first,” she breathed once the kiss broke. “Or we’ll starve from just standing here kissing.”

He laughed low, dragging his thumb up the side of her face. “I can survive on kisses alone. Just watch me.”