“I would never,” she said, pressing a kiss just below his collarbone. “I love your voice. Please?”
Nic sighed and tilted his head back, staring at the dark rafters above them. He was quiet for a long moment, fingers still moving through her hair. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough-edged, and soft with surrender. “Anything for you.”
Think of the summer nights,
Remember the bonfires beneath the moonlight.
Recall the beautiful girls dancing,
and the white smoke rising.
Feel the warm breeze as it blows,
and the cool stream as it flows.
Hear the deep drums beating,
hear the mountain calling.
La la la la la la la
La la la la la la la
Bathe in the ancient lake of blue.
Run through the towering woods of green.
Roll in the deep sands of white.
Frolic in the lush meadows of pink.
Eat the fruits of the earth,
and flourish in the land of our birth.
Dream beneath the sky of violet and gold,
and listen to the mountain's tales of old.
Fall in love when the leaves are changing.
Make love as the snow is falling.
Marry your sweetheart when the wildflowers are blooming,
and build a new nursery when the sun is beaming.
La la la la la la la
La la la la la la la
When his voice faded into the depths of the forest, Helen didn’t speak at first. She lay still against him, her breath steady, her fingers curling lightly around his. “I love that song.”
He chuckled under his breath. “Should we head back?”
“It’s too cold to move!”
“That’s because it is cold out.”
