Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"It's easier if I show you," he says, clicking an icon on his desktop.
A God-awful screeching sound echoes through the office.
Tyr grunts in the corner, rolling onto his other side.
"What is that?"
"What? The dial-up sound?"
"Dial-up? Paul Bunyan, save me," I mutter. "I have traveled back in time." Right back to the 1990s, when rap music was good and the only thing you could do on the internet was learn or chat.
"Smartass," Deacon says, his lips twitching.
I grin at him.
We wait four hundred years for the dial-up to connect, and then he opens a web browser. He quickly types something in and then pulls up a news article.
Sixteen firefighters killed in Pasayten Wilderness.
"Deacon," I whisper, my stomach sinking as I skim the article. When I come across his name as one of only three survivors on the team, my heart cracks in half, tears welling in my eyes.
"We were given the wrong information about where we needed to be," he rasps. "When the wind shifted direction, the fire jumped the line and cut off our exit. We had no way out. It was moving too goddamn fast."
I turn in the chair, wrapping myself around him as best as I can.
"One of the jumpers had fallen and fucked up his ankle, so me and another jumper were lagging behind with him, dragging his ass back down the mountain," he says. "When the fire swept through, we could hear them screaming. I tried like hell to get to them, but there was no saving them."
"Oh, Deacon. I'm so sorry."
A shudder wracks his body. "By the time the fire caught up to us, we'd found a small pond and dove in. Damn near drowned waiting for it to pass. The water got so hot, we thought it was going to boil before the fire finally roared through and we were able to climb out."
I wrap myself even tighter around him, pressing myself close in an attempt to comfort him. He's a survivor, just like I am. Only, he survived something so much worse. I can't even imagine how terrifying that had to be.
"The worst part was finding their bodies," he whispers. "Most didn't even have time to deploy their shelters. It hit them so fast." He shudders again, locked in his memories. And then he exhales a shaky breath. "Their screams haunted me for a long time, Sunshine. That day haunted me for a long time. I came out here to heal. I needed to find peace, so I built this place. When I finished it, I built the cabins up on the ridge."
"I'm so sorry, Deacon. I thought my four days in the forest was bad, but what you went through was so much worse. You lost so much that day," I whisper, running my fingers down the side of his face in a comforting gesture. "Of course you needed peace."
"You were just a kid, Sunshine. I knew what I signed up for and what the risks were. You didn't sign up to get lost and nearly die in the woods when you went on that field trip." He gives me a half-smile. "Trauma isn't a competition. We've both been through some shit."
"Yeah, I guess we have."
He runs his thumbs under my eyes, wiping away my tears. "Don't cry for me, baby. It took a few years to get there, but I'm good. I'm done with the fire service and will never have to face that shit again. I've made peace with what happened."
"But you're still afraid to leave here," I say softly.
"Nah, I just don't like people."
"Liar," I whisper.
He gives me another half-smile, running his finger over my lips. "Never had a reason to want to leave, Sunshine. I had my dog and my cabin, and I was good. Everything I needed was right here. Why risk undoing the work I've done finding my peace when there was nothing out there I wanted?"
My stomach twists at his question and a little sliver of my heart breaks. If that's how he feels, what are the two of us doing? My life is in Seattle. There's no way I'll ever be able to build my business out here in the wilderness. There's no way I'd survive out here. I may be more comfortable out here because Deacon's here, but I still hate it. I think I'll always hate it a little bit.
It'll always remind me of being small and vulnerable and alone, hovering close to death. That's no way to live. But…if I leave, I'm going to be leaving the biggest part of my heart behind. That's no way to live either.
I was supposed to face my fears for Valentine's Day, not go and fall in love with a mountain man. But I fell anyway. Now, I have a whole new fear to contend with. Getting my heart broken into tiny little pieces. Only…I don't see a way to avoid it if his life is here and mine is in Seattle.