Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
"HEY!" Cade yells again, taking a deliberate step forward. "GET OUT OF HERE!"
The bear huffs one more time, a sound like a steam engine, then slowly turns and melts back into the forest, her cubs scrambling after her. Within seconds, it's like they were never there at all.
I'm shaking so hard I can barely stand. The phone slips from my nerveless fingers, clattering onto the forest floor.
"Jesus Christ," I whisper, then louder, "Oh God—"
He spins around, and the look on his face stops my apology cold. It's not anger, exactly, though there's some of that. It's something rawer, more primal. Fear. Pure, undiluted fear.
"Jesus Christ baby..." He doesn't finish the sentence. Instead, he closes the distance between us in two long strides and pulls me against his chest so hard it drives the air from my lungs.
His heart is hammering against my ear, his breathing ragged. I can feel the tension in every muscle of his body, the way his hands shake slightly as they cradle the back of my head.
"I'm sorry," I whisper into his flannel shirt. "I'm so sorry, Daddy. I broke the rules. I didn't listen."
"You scared the shit out of me." His voice is rough. ”You don’t fucking do that again, you hear me?”
"I know. I got excited about the research and—"
"No." He cups my face, forcing me to look at him. "You didn't think. Out here, not thinking gets you killed."
My eyes burn. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't fix dead." He presses his forehead to mine, breathing slowly. "But you're learning."
I could have died. That bear could have charged, and Cade would have watched me get mauled because I couldn't follow simple instructions.
"I trust you," I whisper. "I do trust you. I just... I don't know why I did that."
"Because you're used to being the smartest person in the room." His thumbs brush away my tears. "Bears don't give a shit about your PhD."
A fat raindrop hits my forehead. Then another. The sky opens up.
"I think that’s enough for today.” Cade growls, his voice rough, tugging me along as we scramble back down the trail toward the cabin.
By the time we reach the weathered wooden structure, we're both drenched despite the canopy overhead. Cade pushes open the heavy door, ushering me into the dim interior as rain drums against the metal roof.
"Get out of those wet clothes," he says, already stripping off his flannel. "You'll catch pneumonia."
I fumble with buttons, fingers shaking from adrenaline and cold. And maybe a little from watching Cade peel off his shirt like some kind of lumberjack calendar model.
He notices my struggle and helps, his touch gentle as he works me out of the damp fabric.
"Arms up," he murmurs, pulling one of his dry shirts over my head. The flannel swamps me, soft and warm and smelling like him.
"I feel like I'm wearing a tent," I say, but I'm secretly thrilled by how completely his scent surrounds me.
"My tent," he says, wrapping a wool blanket around us both. "Better." For a long time, we just sit there listening to the storm and our heartbeats gradually slowing.
"Cade?"
"Yeah?"
"I came out here to prove something. To everyone." I trace patterns on his chest through his thermal. "But I don't think I'm the same person who started this research project."
His arm tightens around me. "How so?"
"When I was following those tracks, all I could think about was impressing Professor Harrison. How this would validate my methodology." I pause. "But when that bear looked at me, none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was that I'd put us both in danger because I couldn't follow simple instructions."
"You didn't put me in danger. Protecting you is what I do." His voice rumbles against my ear. "It's also what I like to do."
"But what if you'd gotten hurt because I was being careless?"
"Hey." He tilts my chin up. "I didn't. You didn't. We're both safe."
"This time."
"Every time." Patient, sure. "Because you learned something today. Your safety matters more than any research project. Trust means listening even when you don't understand why. And changing course doesn't make you weak—it makes you smart."
I curl closer to him. "I don't know if this thesis even makes sense anymore. I don't know if I'm cut out for this kind of field work."
"What do you think?"
"I think..." I take a shaky breath. "I think maybe I want to go back to your real cabin today. Take some time to figure out what I actually want instead of what everyone expects me to want. And I could go for a real bed. And I want to see your world. Where you are you."
"You sure?"
"No. But I'm sure I want to figure it out with you." I look up at him. "Is that okay?"
His smile is soft and proud. "That's my brave girl. Smart enough to start something, wise enough to change course when needed."