Puffs of white float lazily through the sky, adding to the layers of sparkling powder that blanket the landscape. Water moves fluidly in the stream below, crashing over boulders and rocks in a rush toward the cascade. A crisp, wintery breeze whips a strand of loose hair against my frigid cheeks, and I move it with a leather-gloved fingertip.

I lived in Balsam Grove for ten summers and one fall, but until now, I’ve never seen it in the winter. And this year, it came early. I’ve heard people talk about it, the majestic sight of cottages wrapped in white and the quiet that cloaks you in its calming embrace. But now, seeing it, it’s a whole different thing.

It’s only been three months since I stepped out of that cave realizing I’d never really left it. It had been my prison for seven years. I was chained in darkness, starved from the truth, gutted and heartbroken by events I never quite understood, and robbed of a future for too damn long. But not anymore.

Gloved hands wrap my center as Jaxon hugs me from behind. His bearded cheek moves against mine. “You ready, Waterfall Eyes?”

My belly flips at the name, and I smile. It will never get old. “I think I am.”

I shiver when I turn to face him, not because I’m cold or because his eyes are still the most beautiful storm I’ve ever seen, but because I can feel it—the long-awaited ending of the final chapter, an epilogue inevitable—and it’s happening now, as I say goodbye to my childhood summer cottage for the final time.

It’s been sold, and the new owners, a family of three, close on the home tomorrow. Jaxon and I decided it was best to sell as part of our plan to start over. It’s time to let go completely of the past and move on together. So far, we’ve made great strides. For the first time since I can remember, I don’t mind making plans. Plans give me something to look forward to as I continue to heal from the physical and mental trauma of it all.

Scott’s death hit me hardest. The grief and guilt filled my every vein with a poison I’m still trying to drain. The worst part was making the phone call to Aunt Cyndi to let her know what had happened. She considered Scott to be like her son, and hearing her pain was like learning about his death all over again. Scott’s memory is like an excruciating wound that can’t be bandaged, threatening to haunt me for the rest of my days.

Jaxon turns to me, wincing a bit at his own residual aches and pains, then gives me a small, supportive smile. “You sure you want to do this?”

Releasing another breath, I nod, knowing this is the right thing to do. I’ve had my time with the cottage. Years’ worth of memories. The happy days, the sad days, and everything in between. It’s time to let it go.

“I don’t have any doubts,” I confirm. “Not a single one.”

His forehead presses against mine before our chilled lips warm each other’s. I love how gentle Jaxon’s been with me lately. And since he’s been recovering from a broken arm, our need for each other has become a raging fire, roaring hotter with each glance, each embrace, each kiss. While he would have risked his recovery to be close to me, I wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t. It would have only added more guilt to all that already weighed on my mind.

He moans. “Damn. Maybe Claire and Danny can bring the baby over another time. I’m missing you,” he growls low against my lips. “A lot.” He presses against me, letting me feel his truth.

I bite back a laugh and graze my lips against his. “I want to see the baby.” My eyes connect with Jaxon’s, a serious look making him understand right away.

Claire’s delivery scare was a part of our nightmare when we left the cave that night. So much light entered my world after that moment, powerful knowledge of a reality I’d kept hidden seven years before. The light drove out darkness that was so much more than a cold, empty prison cell. It was the feeling the loss of blood seeping into my clothes and just knowing that I’d lost our baby. The doctors never even noticed.

That night in the hospital, I told Jaxon everything I’d remembered. The entire fight with my father, learning about my pregnancy and Jaxon’s decision to stay in Balsam Grove. We cried together. At the loss. At the secrets. At the devastation of it all. I felt like I was losing the baby all over again. I’d forgotten that I was pregnant. After making a visit to my therapist in Durham, he confirmed what I suspected—that bleeding out from the miscarriage in that cave was ultimately the trauma that triggered my amnesia. Of course, the events surrounding it didn’t help, either.

One good thing came from the discoveries. Jaxon had always blamed himself for my abduction that night. No one knew that I’d gone home after our fight. No one, not even me, knew about the altercation with my father and the fact that Brooks was tracking me like game, just waiting for the right time to strike.

Jaxon helps me into his white truck, an older, beat-up vehicle he keeps hidden in his garage for the winter months when the roads are too dangerous for his motorcycle. Lacey hops in behind me, pushing me to my spot in the center. I laugh and nuzzle her soft, white fur that makes her look just as majestic as the snowy landscape. Her light blue eyes shine back at me above that long-hanging smile, her panting every bit as energetic as it was when I took her on her first walk.

“What do you say, girl? You think we can all finally live together now?” Lacey laps me with her wet tongue, making me giggle as Jaxon hops into the driver’s seat. He reaches over and pats Lacey’s head, then grabs my knee, leaving me with a smile before he starts the truck and backs up.

“What are you two giggling about?”

I smile back down at Lacey, nuzzling my nose with hers. “Oh, nothing. We were just agreeing that you’re outnumbered now, buddy. Two females and one male.”

Jaxon chuckles. “Yeah, well. We’ll have to even that out one day, don’t you think?”

My heart flutters in my chest. He spoke the exact words I was just thinking. “I think I like the sound of that.”

The rest of the short drive is silent as Jaxon takes the highway to his—our—driveway and pulls up to the garage to find the new blue truck already parked outside.

“Lila’s here!” I gush, spotting the carrier in Danny’s hands as he steps out of the car.

We got to meet little Lila through the incubator she was stuck in for the first six weeks of her life. Once Danny and Claire were finally able to take her home, they wanted to get settled a bit before inviting anyone over. Yesterday when they called, Claire said they were stir-crazy and needed to venture out.

We rush them all inside to get out of the cold, and Jaxon takes Lacey downstairs. We aren’t sure how she’ll react to a baby, but we’d rather not test out our luck today.

Lila is still low on the scale at nine pounds, fourteen ounces. But as Danny gently pulls her from the carrier and into his arms, I can see how perfect she is. Dressed in a light blue onesie jumper, matching socks, and a pink cap wrapped around her tiny, fuzzy head, she’s the most beautiful sight, a perfect blend of Danny and Claire.

I hug Claire first. “You look amazing,” I say, a smile growing wide on my face and my heart filling up my chest.

Her eyes glisten with the same emotion as she laughs. “Yeah, well, thanks to Danny I manage to get some sleep in between the feedings and medication.” Her eyes glisten as she stares at Lila. “But she’s just the most amazing little thing.”

I grip Danny’s arms instead of crushing the baby between us in a hug. “Good job, Deputy Danny,” I whisper, emotion still gripping my words as they escape.

Tanner took a leave of absence to spend time with his mom somewhere far away. They never told anyone where they went. But when they came back, they immediately packed their things and left again.

Poor Meg had no clue what to think of the horror that swept through the town and carried Tanner away. But Antonio Garcia, the new artist Jaxon hired to cover his Canvas and Wine classes, has already swooped in and stolen her heart. Just like that, in a matter of months.

Danny smiles down at me. “Thanks, Little A. How are you doing? Healing okay?”

I nod. “Yes, and I don’t want to talk about any of that right now. I want to hold that baby.”

Danny laughs. “Deal. But go wash your hands first. You smell like wet dog.”

Rolling my eyes, I do as he says, coming right back and approaching him with my arms out and ready. “All clean. Hand her over.”

Danny places her in my hands, making sure her tiny head is rested comfortably in the crook of my arm. I bob her gently, the way I saw Danny doing it, slowly, careful not to jostle her too much. Her gray eyes are sparkling up at me, stealing my heart like no other being in this world could.

“Hi, baby girl. I’m your auntie Aurora. And you have the sweetest pink cheeks I’ve ever seen,” I coo ridiculously. “Yes, you do.”

Laughter fills the room—Claire’s, Danny’s, and Jaxon’s, who I didn’t realize had come back upstairs. I look up, and he’s standing there wearing the most beautiful smile as he watches me. Our eyes latch, and in that moment, my heart fills with so much love.

And so much light.

 

 

Jaxon takes Lacey outside for a walk before bed as I shower and slip on one of his old shirts. I’m already lying on my stomach, half-asleep by the time Jaxon climbs into bed beside me, but the feel of his chilled body against my warm one brings me to eager alertness. He’s moved my hair to expose my neck, and he kisses it softly before lifting the bottom hem of my shirt up and over my head.

He sighs before dropping kisses down my spine, alternating a peck for a brush of his lips, a hand feathering down the side of my ribcage, then slipping to my belly button and moving down to where the friction burns. Brushing lightly against my center, he nudges me with his legs to turn me over. I turn willingly and stare up at him, smiling at his seriousness as he scans me with his eyes.

With one look, I feel him between my thighs when he’s not even touching me there. I feel him under my skin. I shake from the inside out as my nipples come alive and the ache between my thighs takes over my mind, reminding me what I’ve been missing for too damn long. Three months too long.

My palms run the length of his front from his waist up to his chest, slowing down over the faint bruising that remains, then widening to his shoulders. “Are you sure this is okay?” My eyes flick up to meet his again.

Jaxon sits up, a wicked smile on his face. My hands begin to fall from his shoulders, but he catches them in his, bringing them back to his chest and pressing them there. “We’ve been patient long enough, don’t you think?”

He guides my palms down with his until they reach his naked length that sits hard in his lap. Wrapping my hand around his girth, he squeezes before beginning to move my palm around him. I can feel his firm vein as I bring pressure to his tip with each stroke.

I look up to catch his eyes falling closed, then his deep swallow at the pleasure. “We can take it slow,” he says with a deep rasp.

Once I’ve found my rhythm, he releases his hold on me. I keep a firm grip on him as I stroke, remembering the way he taught me when we were younger. He responds to the pressure with a groan, and I smile with pride at how I can make him feel. My eyes find his again and they’re burning with desire. I adjust myself to sit on my knees and lean over his thick muscle. My mouth moves around him, my tongue stroking the underside of his skin as my lips wrap firmly around the tip of his shaft. He gasps in surprise, and places his palm on the back of my head, pressing me down until I can feel him in the back of my throat.

“You have the sexiest goddamn mouth, Aurora,” he rasps. “You have no clue what you do to me, do you?”

I’m humming with pleasure as he rocks into me over and over, his hips quickening until a curse flies from his mouth.

He can’t take it anymore. Pulling out, he pushes my back onto the bed and leans over my body, my hand moving between us to stroke him again. He kisses me hard, then soft, as if remembering we’re supposed to be taking things slow and he’s fighting against his natural urges for more. With gentle hands, he removes my grip and presses my palms into the bed above my head while our tongues tangle together.

Three months of missing the way his body fits in mine… I sigh, and my thighs tremble at the memory of him inside me, stretching me, filling me, and bringing me to life.

His lips move from mine, and he’s staring down at me now. A heavy breath. A weighted stare. His tongue darts out and wets his lower lip as he reaches for my knees and pulls them apart. He moans at the sight. I can’t see myself, but I can sure as hell feel it. I’m so wet for him.

His eyes pinch shut as he collects his breath, and then they’re back on me. He slides his thumb against my core, once, twice, until he’s moving down my body, his mouth hovering over me and swiping my clit with his tongue.

I moan and lift my hips, hitting his mouth in a desperate plea for more. He chuckles and grabs my waist, holding me still while he swipes me again with his tongue before covering me with his mouth and sucking. Shit. There’s a swirl of chaos inside my chest, sparks light within the depths of my belly, and I’m held prisoner by Jaxon’s hands as he tortures me to a rising climax.

Just as he takes me to the edge of the cliff and threatens to toss me off, he tears himself from my aching core and climbs back up my body, his mouth crushing mine just as a finger sinks into me. I scream into his mouth as the sensation returns. My legs spread wider.

He adds another finger, and then he’s curling them over and over until I erupt. Heat spreads, hot and wet, moving like a stream of lava through every vein, every limb, every organ. I’m a bundle of nerves, unraveling as they shoot off, zinging through the air and eventually sizzling out. But the after effects leave me in a haze with an intense desire to return the favor.

Jaxon rolls me over so I’m on top of him now, my legs straddling his belly as my mouth finds his. Kissing Jaxon gives me back every breath he just took. His hands cup my cheeks, fingers hooking behind my head as he moans against my mouth. “Put me inside you. I need to feel you. Every inch. Go slowly.”

My breath catches as I nod and obey, wrapping my hand around his hard muscle and guiding him to my entrance. I gasp at the feel of his wide tip nudging my opening. As I sink around him, my body adjusts to accommodate his thickness while squeezing around him.

My belly flips at the thought of how new this feels all over again. But one thing remains the same: the connection that flows around us, between us, through us. Different rivers blending into the same stream. Bending and coursing over rock and whatever debris may fall on a timeless journey through every storm, every cave, and every waterfall. We’re unstoppable, unbreakable, yet ever-changing.

He was the wild rush of the creek barreling by, a force powerful enough to alter even the sturdiest of landscapes, and he halted me with his eyes. Icy gray orbs with a stormy finish. And I wanted to fall. To let his rapids carry me and take me over the edge.

I wanted to live in his waterfall.

So I did.