“Almost there.” Nick resisted the urge to hold out a hand to help Emma balance, not at all convinced that she wouldn’t bite it given half a chance. She was not at all pleased that he’d tricked her into another hike, and more than that, into spending more time with him, but her pride wouldn’t let her renege.
He’d already known before asking her that her ankle was fine. She’d been walking on it without incident, if a bit awkwardly—and he’d watched. The best thing for her today was to stretch it out. Especially since she was now wearing a decent pair of boots and a winter coat. She’d insisted—smartly—on purchasing some winter gear from a store in town before they’d headed out. If she hadn’t, he would have dragged her to buy some himself.
“You said that ten minutes ago.” Her voice was full of vinegar instead of honey as she huffed her way up the small incline. “Forgive me if I don’t believe y’all.”
“Your choice.” He did his best to hide the grin, but damn, he liked getting her all worked up. Liked the way that sweet-as-syrup accent would thicken from the thinner, icy tone she usually had. “I thought you could handle this. Maybe I was wrong. We make them tough up North here, but I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“I can handle anything you throw at me.” She drew up next to him as he halted on the hilltop. She narrowed her eyes. “Is this it? Are we here?”
“Indeed.” He grinned as she looked at him expectantly, then huffed out a breath of exasperation. “I’m sorry, did you want something?”
“You promised me wine.” She tugged at his backpack with an elegant hand. “I hiked up the damn mountain. Gimme.”
“All right, all right.” Swinging the bag over his shoulder, he stifled his grin. The damn mountain was a gentle rise, more of a brisk walk than a hike. But she’d earned her moment, so he tugged out the waterproof blanket he’d packed, as well as the bottle of wine and plastic cups. “You deserve it.”
Spreading out the blanket, he lowered himself down onto it, then glanced back up. She was staring down at where the edge of the silver thermal fabric glinted against the fluffy white snow, her brow knit in confusion. “You expect me to sit in the snow?”
“If you want your wine, absolutely.” Opening the screw top—classy stuff—he poured a measure of the crimson liquid into each cup, then held one up to her, just out of her reach.
She huffed out a breath but finally, gingerly, lowered herself to the blanket. Shifting from side to side, she settled in. “This should be colder than it is.”
“You bought good gear. You’ll be fine.”
With that, he handed her a cup. She took a sip, and he watched from the corner of his eye as her cheeks pinked in the chilly air.
“Is this how you’re making it up to me?” Her words were still tart, but there was reluctant amusement behind them. “Cheap wine on a blanket in the snow?”
“Nope.” If he was a better man, he might not have felt so much satisfaction when he heard her quick intake of breath at the press of his fingers on her cheek. He wasn’t, though, and knowing that he affected her as much as she affected him was a hook in his gut, drawing him closer to her than he ever thought he’d want to be.
“I don’t understand—” Emma started, but when she gasped he knew she’d seen what he’d brought her up here for. “Oh. Oh!”
Spread out before them was his favorite view on the island—his favorite place in the entire world, actually. He’d been here countless times, but as he saw it now through Emma’s fresh eyes, he felt the wonder all over again.
They were seated on top of a large hill, one of the craggy shelves of rock at the edge of a small mountain. It was cold enough that the snow beneath them was as fine as flour, dancing in the air every time a breeze blew through.
Before them spread out a vista that never failed to tug at his soul. The rocks of the hill were stacked in shelves below them, interspersed with densely carpeted swaths of forest-green—pine trees, huddled tightly together as if they were trying to stay warm in the cold.
And beyond that, a stretch of what he knew was pale sand, though it sat beneath a thick quilt of more snow and the occasional crust of ice. And farther still, the water. The lace-tipped waves of the Pacific Ocean, crashing against each other. He often thought that the walls of water looked as if they were having disagreements with one another. On quieter days, they were just small spats, the crests slapping at one another with only a hint of temper. Other times, like today, they were violent, landing full body slams, the wind screaming around them.
The movements often mirrored how he felt himself. But today, on the hill, they were more sheltered than they would have been out on the water, and Nick was glad for it. Initially, he really had just meant this trip as a nice gesture to make up for what an asshole he’d been to her since they’d met. But now that they were here….
He wasn’t sure what it was he felt for Emma, exactly; he only knew that he was glad he’d shown her this, glad he’d shared this place that was so special to him. That gladness would likely change later when he felt vulnerable from sharing, but right in that moment he wasn’t scared of what he was feeling. He decided to just let it happen.
“What do you think?” He found himself holding his breath. By showing her this place, he’d revealed a part of himself, and her opinion mattered.
“Nick.” She exhaled on a long breath, the warmth from her lips visible in a cloud as wispy as cotton candy. “I don’t know what to say. This is amazing.”
He opened his mouth to agree, then closed it again, struck by her bravery. She’d flown all the way to a strange place, a different country, to meet a father she’d never known. She’d pushed back when he’d done his best to get under her skin. He’d dragged the southern girl on a hike in the ice and snow. She had every right to be angry, to be bitter. Instead she was regarding his favorite place in the world as though she’d found the gate to Heaven.
She understood—there was magic here. Hell, she was magic. A Christmas wish come true. Without thinking it through, he set his plastic cup down in the snow. She made a small sound of surprise when he took her cup as well, nestling it down beside his. When he placed his gloved hand on her cheek, though, the curiosity had changed to anticipation.
Tilting her head, she lifted her lips to meet his as he drew her close for a kiss.
The skin of her mouth was crisply cold, contrasting with the soft warmth of her breath as he sampled her lips. Her sharp inhalation when he traced the seam with his tongue tugged at something in his chest, something that would normally frighten him.
Here, in this perfect moment, he ignored it, forging past the knee-jerk instinct to pull away, to reinforce his walls. Instead he let himself just want her the way he wanted her, sinking deep into the embrace.
She sighed softly when he pulled away, blinking up at him with eyes the same ghostlike blue as the winter sky above them.
“Well, look at that.” Her voice was quiet as a small furrow appeared between her brows. He could see it in her face that she’d felt the same intensity he had, and wanted to puzzle out what it meant, too.
The kiss, the intimacy hadn’t worried him, but he felt the familiar dissonance in his mind at the thought of discussing it. When she shivered he shamelessly used it as an out, passing her cup back over.
“Drink up.” He kissed her again deeply, leaving her slightly dazed and himself out of breath. What was it about her that made his blood race like that? “It’ll warm you up.”
“That’s a myth,” she said primly as she sipped from her cup. “Alcohol does nothing to the internal temperature of the drinker.”
“Of course you would know that.” He’d watched those big eyes take in everything around her, all the time, and imagined that her busy brain was like a sponge, filing things away for no reason other than to satisfy her curiosity. “Got a subscription to Science Weekly?”
He liked that she was smart. He liked everything about her.
“No.” She sat up straight before breaking into a wide grin, transforming her face into sunshine. “I saw it on MythBusters.”
The woman sounded like honey, was smart and gorgeous, and made him want things he had no business wanting.
Was it any wonder he couldn’t get her out of his mind?