Kirk, Audrey, and Mason were now discussing potential names for the baby mice, so she waved at them in a silent goodbye so she wouldn’t interrupt. Though she really hoped they weren’t being serious about Countess Florence Alligator Razor Teats the First—Teats for short.
Grimacing, she slipped into the cool water and into Bash’s waiting arms. He swam them in a slow circle, right on the edge of the falls, and smiled through the mist at her. He looked so damned perfect, his ink-black hair dripping, his eyes the color of moss, the dark stubble on his jaw and that breathtaking smile of his. And he was hers.
“You look all happy right now,” he said.
“That’s because I am.”
He canted his head, and the smile dipped from his lips. Seriously, he said, “Good. When you’re happy, it makes it easy for me to breathe.”
He pulled her close and kissed her quick, then said, “Race ya.” Bash slipped from her arms and disappeared under the dark water.
Emerson sucked in a giant gulp of air and dove down deep. Underwater, she eased her eyes open, and she could see him—Bash. Her mate was swimming with powerful strokes away from her, illuminated by sunrays that broke the surface of the waves. She could see the uneven skin of his burned back, but in this moment, she thought no one else had looked better and more stunning than Bash did here. Arching his back, he swam up to the surface, and she followed.
On shore, Harrison and Clinton were packing up everything, but Bash didn’t seem inclined to land there. Instead, he led her farther down the currents and helped her toward the sandy beach thirty yards upriver. She laughed as their feet dragged through the final waves, and with a rush of excitement, she jumped up and clung to his shoulders, then nipped his bottom lip.
“Bitey mate,” he mused, then grazed his teeth against her lips as he kissed her. Easing back, he murmured, “Hurry now before we miss it.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her up the beach. He didn’t slow until they came to a pair of trees, all wound together like they’d grown from the same roots. Bash pointed to a shallow valley between two mountains in the distance and said, “Look there, Emerson.”
The sun was sitting right between them, half hidden already. Behind it, the sky was painted in pinks, but the setting sun was a bright and vibrant orange. Emerson gasped at how beautiful it was.
Bash stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her, rested his cheek on the side of her head as the sun sank lower and lower between the mountains.
“Bash?” she asked.
“Mmm?”
She cuddled back against him and whispered so she wouldn’t ruin the magic of this moment. “This is my favorite place to be in the whole world.”
She could feel his slow smile against her hair. “My favorite place is wherever you are.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Today has been the best day of my life,” Bash said, his expression completely honest and open. The glow of the draped outdoor lights around Boarland Mobile Park lit half his face in a soft, gold glow.
She smiled back at him and pulled his hand into her lap. They kept rocking on the chairs on his front porch. “It was my best day, too.”
She was still sandy from swimming, but Bash hadn’t seemed in a rush to go inside and clean up. He’d stopped here, and really, it was the perfect ending to the night. Bash’s face faltered a little, and he spread his fingers out over her stomach. “Emerson, I don’t want you to get fired for defending me. You like your job too much. I don’t want you unhappy.”
She had, in fact, been avoiding checking her cell phone all day because there was a hundred percent chance Fartleby was pitching a fit over the name snafu and her boss, Margee, had probably left Emerson a bunch of messages. Usually she was totally responsible about returning calls, but today, she’d just wanted to have all the happy moments she could with Bash. She would get the “you’re fired” messages tomorrow. Sitting here, looking into Bash’s worried eyes with his fingers drawing soothing circles onto her stomach, she couldn’t muster the energy to delve into work stuff today.
“I have more newspapers and online venues I freelance for, and besides, I have a backup plan.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I’ve never felt surer in my life.”
“Are you hungry? Or tired or cold or thirsty?”
She inhaled a breath of crisp mountain air and relaxed into the rocking chair. “I have everything I need right now.” She intertwined her fingers with Bash’s. Every single thing.
The trailer park was quiet, but not the lack-of-noise kind. More like peaceful. Lightning bugs blinked in the woods behind the trailers, and the windows of Mason and Harrison’s homes were lit. Clinton was off in the woods somewhere, and strangely, this place felt odd without his snarky remarks echoing down the gravel road. Straight across the street, Mason sat against the rails of his porch, one leg outstretched, one bent as he plucked the strings of an old guitar with soft notes that carried this way and that on the breeze.