Colorado Mountain series by Kristen Ashley

And, I figured, after that morning, not to mention him finding me having been beaten up by Damon, they couldn’t be pleasant thoughts.

The good thing about visiting a small, local hospital in the dead of night was that there was no waiting. We found out very quickly that my ribs weren’t broken just bruised, same with my nose. Even though the swelling was contained by the ice, the bruising was already coming up, including at my side where there was an angry, curved mark the shape of the toe of a boot. To my horror, and at Max’s demand, they took photos of my midriff and my face and, when we left, they promised Max and me they would send the photos and medical reports to the Gnaw Bone police department.

Max had been silent on the way back to the cabin as had I, but he still held my hand.

I listened to the murmur of his conversation in the other room as I stripped off my clothes and put on my pajamas. Then I looked around the room, taking it in for the first time.

The owners lived in a house about a quarter mile up the lane that led to the cabin complex. It was definitely a family run business, they didn’t even have an office, just a locked key cabinet behind the front door and a guest register book on a spindly-legged table under the cabinet.

Now I saw that they took pride in their cabins. The room was clean, the wood planked floor looked recently redone and the warm, sage green walls also had been recently repainted. And there were touches here and there that showed they made more than a small effort. Thick, blue, mushroom and green braided rugs; prints on the walls that were chosen with personal taste, rather than just a generic attempt at décor; the bed had a duvet, not a comforter and the duvet was soft and downy, its cover a tasteful design of the green of the walls and the blue and mushroom of the rugs as well as some browns and grays; there were four fluffy pillows on the queen-sized bed, not two thin, unappealing ones, there were even a gaggle of toss pillows that kept up the color scheme; and there were attractive reading lamps on either nightstand with muted shades but, at the top, there was an apparatus for the lamp to swing inward so it could throw light where you needed it.

I was surprised, considering all of this and the fact that each cabin had a goodly amount of space around it with trees and shrubs providing more privacy, more quiet, that the cabins weren’t booked solid. Then again, this all looked pretty fresh so maybe the owners were new or they’d just done renovations and hadn’t had time to get the word out.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Max said into his phone as he walked into the bedroom and I realized that I’d been standing there in my pajamas staring stupidly at the room, examining the interior decoration.

I pulled myself together and walked to the bed, turning on the lamp at his side as I heard him flip the phone closed. He turned out the overhead light as I used the last of my energy to scurry around the bed, throw the covers back and I got in, listening to his phone hit the nightstand.

I settled on my good side, facing the room and I saw he’d moved. He was now standing by my suitcase which was resting on a chair across the room. He’d thrown his leather jacket over the top and he was unbuttoning his flannel. I watched silently as he shrugged it off, dropped it on his jacket and both his hands came up to the back of his neck where he pulled the long sleeved t-shirt over his head. Then he turned back to the bed and his eyes hit me as he walked to it.

My breath caught, not just per usual at the sight of his chest, but because it struck me suddenly he was there, I was there and all day I’d been attempting to come to terms with the dreadful reality that I was never going to see him again.

I rolled to my back and closed my eyes, feeling it as he sat on the bed. I heard both his boots drop then I felt it as he got up again then I heard the buckle on his jeans crack against the floor along with the swish of the fabric.

Then the covers moved and the bed rocked as he got in. The covers moved again, sliding down to my waist, my eyes opened and my head turned to him as his big splayed hand glided gently up to my ribcage.

It rested where Damon’s boot print was and Max rested on his side, close to me but not touching me except with his hand. His elbow was in the bed, his head was in his hand, his eyes were on me.

Then his hand slid down to come to rest on my belly and I realized I was holding my breath so I let it out and when I did, Max spoke.

“All right, baby, let’s start this with you tellin’ me what Harry said to you last night.”

I held my breath again.

I wanted to ask him to turn out the light. I also wanted to ask him if I could go to sleep and we could talk about this in the morning (or never). Mostly, I wanted to ask him, before I’d so stupidly messed up and acted unforgivably selfishly, if he’d really been falling in love with me.

What I didn’t want to do was tell him what Harry said to me, not only because of what Harry said, but because it was mostly about Anna.

But I knew I couldn’t hide behind my neurotic behavior, not then. Max deserved better.

So I let out my breath and said softly, “He told me about Anna.”

Max showed no reaction to this, his face didn’t darken, his eyes didn’t narrow, he just asked, “What’d he say?”

I pulled in air through my nose then let it out and answered, “He said you loved her.”

“I did,” Max agreed readily.

I bit my bottom lip but let it go before I continued. “He said she was your world.”

“She was,” Max agreed again and I struggled against the urge to close my eyes against a different kind of internal pain and won, miraculously holding his gaze.

“He said, after her, you had a lot of women.”

“That’s true.”

I swallowed as this was confirmed and finished on a whisper, “He told me that you loved her so much, when she died, you were undone. And he told me no one was ever going to be that to you, not ever again, and you and everyone would know it and he thought I should know it too.”

Max had a reaction to this, his mouth got tight, his eyes got dark and his hand pressed slightly into my belly.

Then he sighed and his hand lightened.

Then he asked, “You know something?”

I pulled in both my lips and shook my head, though I did know a lot of somethings, just not the something he was about to share. However, I wasn’t certain I wanted to know what he was about to share. I didn’t tell him this and, therefore, he shared.

“When Anna died, it was her world that ended, not mine.” I closed my eyes then but Max whispered, “Honey, look at me.” So I opened them again.