“You’ll get frostbite,” he warned, turning his face to press small kisses to the tips of those slender fingers.
“I need a moment. I’m getting to know your beard.”
Easton sighed. “It’s only facial hair.”
“Oh no, it’s an entity all its own.” Fingernails running through his beard, she tightened her hands into his hair, kissing him like she hadn’t taken a bad fall today. Like they both hadn’t almost died. She was strong, made for this kind of life, and her ability not only to exist but to thrive in his environment—one so brutal—only skyrocketed his attraction to her.
Then her knees dug into his waist, her teeth nipping at his lower lip.
“You’re killing me here, sweetheart. If you keep doing that, I’m never getting off this mountain in one piece.”
“Would that be so bad? I kind of love it here.” A soft laugh escaped her, the fire in her eyes changing to a deeper, better kind of flame.
Yeah. Him too. And as he wrapped her in his arms, it was only getting better.
Chapter 14
The next morning, the marmot broke up with Easton. Its little marmot bags were packed. It was moving on. Sometimes, love wasn’t enough, not when you deserved better. And clearly, the marmot knew it deserved better.
Getting relocated out of the tent for River must have been the straw that broke the love story’s back.
Never had River witnessed anything as funny as Easton standing there, getting chirped and barked at, until the marmot had bit the side of his boot in dismissal while he apologized to its furry backside. Ben tried to be supportive, telling Easton it would be okay, but it was all River could do not to laugh hysterically as the marmot headed back down the mountain, toward the tree line and someone who would meet its needs. Bree and Jessie didn’t even try to cover their sheer glee.
And did they get the marmot leaving him on camera? Every single minute of it.
After being dumped and left high and dry on the mountainside, an embarrassed Easton ordered them to break camp, then head back through the Veil, this time with the added burden of the extra weight on their backs. Above the geological feature was nothing but a steep ascent of ice and snow, with the occasional exposed outcrop to break up the landscape. They made camp beneath one of those outcrops, which did little to keep the steady—if quieter—wind off their tents.
Yes, the view was amazing, and yes, they were getting great shots. But River was ready to get to the top already. The summit hung tantalizingly above their heads, but Easton was insisting they stay at camp for another day to get used to the altitude.
It was the relentless cold as much as the man bun that encouraged River to ditch her tent. River wasn’t the move-in-with-a-guy-on-the-first-mountain type of woman, but she was willing to make exceptions.
The man was so warm.
“I thought you wanted to keep things professional on your worksite,” Easton murmured as River wriggled closer to him. She hadn’t bothered to hide from everyone that she had no intention of sleeping cold and alone when a perfectly furry mountaineer was handy in the tent next to hers.
“I didn’t want Ben making googly eyes at Bree and annoying her,” River replied with a yawn. “She told me she’s not interested in romantic encounters with someone who hasn’t bathed in over a week.”
Easton’s lips curved against her ear. “But you are?”
“Mmm. I’m considering it.”
His hand was warm despite the cold, thin air, and his body was even warmer. The sheer amount of heat this man radiated made her want to plaster herself all over him. And maybe she wasn’t at her best, but the way he was looking at her made River want to plaster herself all over him for far less practical reasons.
Easton brushed his thumb over her side in wordless question, a small, welcome touch that she pressed into. Taking her response as the consent it was, he ran his hand along her side, then up her back in a slow, soothing motion that made her instinctively arch into him. Then he rested his palm on her hip, anchoring her in place as he shifted.
The sleeping pad was soft against her shoulder blades, the ground beneath it freezing cold. But when she wrapped her arm around Easton’s neck, drawing him down to her, it was the warmest she’d been since she’d stuffed her toes in his armpit and admitted whatever this was, it was important enough not to let it slip away.
Brushing his lips against hers, River could tell he was being careful, his weight propped up on one elbow so he didn’t squish her.
“We can’t get naked up here,” she reminded him. “I’m not having my nipples pop off from frostbite.”
“They wouldn’t actually pop off,” Easton replied. “They’d more turn black and sort of slough off.”
Gagging at the image, she asked, “Is this really your version of sexy talk?”
A warm chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against River’s fingertips. “You started it.”
Somehow her hand had found its way from his neck, down his muscled chest, and was lingering on granite-hard stomach muscles.
“I need your exercise regimen,” she murmured.
“I shiver. A lot. It burns a ton of calories.”
“Maybe I can help with that?” Smiling, River ran her fingers up his arm, feeling his bicep contract despite the layers of fabric between them.
Easton’s gaze dropped to her lips.
As River bit her lower lip, watching Easton watch her, there was something raw, something powerful in how she felt. She didn’t know what she wanted, but she knew why she wanted it. Something was missing in her life, some fundamental part of herself that she’d lost or maybe never had to begin with. And only up here, with the bitter winds on her face and reflected in the heated gaze of a stranger who already knew her too well, did River feel like she was close.
Whatever it was that she needed so badly, it was right beneath her fingertips.
She’d paused, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through her.
“Are you changing your mind?” Easton asked. “Because that’s okay.”
Could that low, soft rumble be any sexier? River’s mind was constantly changing, but not about this. Not about him.
“This would be easier without fifteen thousand pounds of fleece and puffy jackets between us,” she decided.
“Hmm…I like a challenge.”
“Oh really?” She giggled as he pressed his cold nose to her neck, what little of it was still accessible. Then River burst out snickering as Easton started making playful noises against her throat.
“I’m glad you didn’t murder me in your torture barn,” River decided.