Chapter 105 Chapter~105~Welcome home.

Chapter 105 Chapter~105~Welcome home.
Harley~

Cedar planks, rough as bark, cut a jagged silhouette against a mountain bruised with the coming twilight's purple. My gaze darted between windows, fighting to catch the panoramic view from every angle.

It's both eerie and fascinating, the way the mist coils around the thick trunks of the pines surrounding the cabin. When Nick pulls the passenger door open, the air hits my nose.

Wonderful, sharp, yet thin, a breeze flows by, carrying with it just a hint of damp earth and crushed needles. Smog-free and a welcome breath, I try to inhale it all at once.

Nick catches my hand, his palm rough and familiar as he guides me from the car. After the second step, my attention immediately snagged on the wicker swing swaying back and forth.

Visions of lazy mornings spent watching the sunrise from the oversized double seater flood my mind. Nick reaches above the door frame, his fingers dancing along the dusty ledge until they find the key.

Inside, the space is austere and smells of unfinished cedar and old coffee. There are no rugs to soften the floorboards, no splashes of color, just the bare essentials of a man living alone.

The only object to bring a sense of home to the room is a single framed photograph of him and Ruby, propped against the mantel. Judging by their smiles, they share a lot of love.

A smile comes to my face at the sight of him pacing around. His boots thudded heavily on the floor as he kicked a stray boot under a chair and straightened a stack of mail.

"I know it's not what you expected," he said, gesturing around. "We can paint, tear things down, build walls, whatever you want. It's just.....empty right now."

I step into his space, sliding my hand over the coarse hair of his arm to still him. "It isn't empty," I say, and for the first time in hours, the tightness in my chest uncoils. "The walls don't matter when we're the ones standing between them. We made it, Nick."

"We did," he murmured, his palms sliding down my arms, leaving a trail of warmth that settled on the small of my back. He tugged me gently. "Are you hungry? Actually, no, get off your feet." He guided me backward until the plush leather of the sofa caught the backs of my knees.

My body sank, though a spike of stubbornness prickled at me. "I could help," I said, tilting my head and looking up at him. "I'm not gonna break."

He nodded, giving me a soft, lingering kiss, but his eyes were already retreating, looking past me. I'd hit on the truth, and he was already maneuvering. "I know," his voice drifted off, tighter now. "It's just... I need to find something for us first."

Since the cabin has an open floor plan, which I like, the kitchen is in full view. His jeans strained across his hips as he moved to the deep freezer.

The scent of cold metal and flavored ice fills the room as he lifts the lid. He bent, and the sight of him made a sudden, sharp heat coil deep in my belly, and it isn't Etta.

Great, now he's got the juices flowing! My brow crinkled in frustration at the involuntary reaction to my mate. He straightened up, tossing a bagged, frost-covered roll of meat into his palm.

"How do you feel about deer meat?" He lifted the package.

"Dunno," I shrugged. "I've never had any."

"It's fresh; I took the doe last winter," he says, already moving to the sink. The faucet screeches open, filling a deep basin with steaming water. He shoves his hands into his pockets. "Couple of hours to thaw."

"Ok," I lift my hands, breaking the sudden quiet. "Show me the place. What did you see in your vision?"

Nick pulls me up from the sofa, his grin crooked when he catches the scent of my arousal. He leads me down the hallway, stopping at a room that feels intense with his presence. "This is our room."

No kidding; the room is heavy with his argon oil and cedar scent, which is entirely his. My pulse skips, but I follow him to the next door. He flips the switch, revealing a stark space with beige blinds drawn tight.

"This is it." He moves over to the double windows, pulls the cord, and the slats twist. The room flooded with brilliant afternoon light. He walks to the corner by the window, his voice turning soft. "The crib was right here and a rocker right there."

The lump that swells in my throat is hot and immediate as the room's emptiness is suddenly filled with the ghost of the scene he describes. "It's beautiful, Nick," I whispered, blinking back tears. "Just perfect."

With some fresh paint, maybe bright curtains," he murmured, his voice vibrating against my spine as his arms locked around my waist. "Whatever you want. It's a blank canvas."

Suddenly, a sharp warmth bloomed in my chest. He laced his fingers through mine, resting his heavy palms over the rounded slope of my bump. "Perhaps you could take some photos," I said, leaning back into his solid frame. "Like you did with the moon."

"If that's what you want, sure. I'm sure Ruby has a camera we could borrow."

Nick guided me back down the hall to a mismatched wooden chair at the small kitchen table, refusing my help with a firm, playful nudge.

Forced to sit idle, I watched him move around the cramped kitchen to prep supper. It was already steamy, but it grew warmer as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside.

In his faded white tank top, the broad muscles of his back flexed and shifted with every movement, tracking the heat straight to my core.

The view made the surrounding air feel thick enough to choke on. By the time he slid a plate of seared venison, wild rice, and charred greens in front of me, a heavy, slick ache had settled.

Nick paused, his nostrils flaring slightly as he caught the sudden shift in my scent. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Before I could pick up a fork, his hands were on my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the edge of the laminate counter. He dropped to his knees, his breath hot against my bare skin. A second later, he buried his face between my thighs.