I grunt in response, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “It’s a flower.”
Her head whips around, eyes flashing with amusement, and I can already see the comeback forming on her lips. “A flower? Barron, this isn’t just a flower. This isLysichiton americanus! Skunk cabbage, but this variety?—”
“Don’t smell it,” I interrupt, deadpan, as I walk past her. “Trust me. Seen it a thousand times.”
She stands, brushing the dirt off her knees, and shakes her head with that teasing grin that’s been driving me crazy since the moment she stepped foot on my land. “It’s magic, and you don’t care about any of it.”
“Magic,” I mutter under my breath. That’s what she calls it. Magic. The woods, the plants, the trees—it’s all something sacred to her. She talks about it like it’s some mystical place, a temple or a church. But to me, it’s just work. It’s wood, it’s bark, it’s dirt. It’s what I’ve been doing since I was a kid, same as my brothers.
I push ahead, but I can feel her eyes on me, the weight of her presence lingering, like she’s trying to get inside my head, to make me see things her way. It’s frustrating as hell, but something about her energy—her excitement—it’s like a damn magnet. She buzzes around me like a live wire, and no matter how hard I try to stay focused, she’s always just…there.
We keep moving deeper into the forest, the air growing cooler as the trees close in tighter around us. Tamlyn moves with an ease I didn’t expect, her feet nimble over the rough terrain, her hands brushing against tree bark as if she’s greeting an old friend. I catch myself watching her from the corner of my eye, the way her body moves—fluid, confident—like she belongs here. It shouldn’t impress me, but it does.
“Are we here to hike or run a damn botany class?” I growl, stopping to take a breath, though it’s more to slow the knot tightening in my chest. I’m not sure if it’s frustration or something else entirely.
She shoots me a playful glance, not even out of breath. “Why can’t it be both?”
I grumble something unintelligible under my breath, not really having a good retort for that. The truth is, she’s starting to get to me. Not just with her endless curiosity and chatter, but with her… her whole vibe. It’s like she’s part of the forestitself, the way she seems to breathe it in, every damn leaf and rock fascinating her. It’s exhausting to keep up with, but there’s something else, too—something that’s gnawing at me, pulling me toward her even when I want to stay as far away as possible.
We walk in silence for a while after that, but the air between us is thick, charged with something I can’t quite name. My irritation starts to fade, replaced by something more dangerous. I catch glimpses of her—her long strides, her soft laughter when she spots something new—and I hate that it’s starting to feel… natural. Like I’m not just guiding her through these woods, but watching her wake them up in a way I’ve never seen before.
By the time we reach the top of the ridge, my arms are burning, but it feels good. The ache in my muscles, the familiar weight of the forest around me, it’s grounding. I pause, taking in the view—sprawling valleys, the treeline stretching as far as the eye can see. The sky’s a soft blue, the kind that makes you feel like you’ve found the edge of the world.
Tamlyn stops beside me, her breath a little quicker, though she’s still smiling that infuriatingly beautiful smile. She gazes out over the landscape, and I can tell—this is the part she loves. The moment where everything falls quiet, and it’s just her and the land. Her whole body softens, and for a second, I see something different in her eyes—something deeper.
“This place… it’s not just trees and dirt. It’s something special.” There’s no teasing this time, just something raw, something real.
I don’t answer right away. I’m too busy watching her. The way the wind plays with the strands of her hair, the way her eyes shine with that genuine passion I’ve been trying to ignore since we started. I should be annoyed by her, by this entire detour of my morning. But I’m not. Instead, I feel something pulling me toward her, something that goes beyond just wanting to kiss her again.
“Maybe,” I finally say, my voice low. “Maybe I see it.”
The air between us feels heavier now, charged with unspoken words. I can feel my pulse quickening, my fists clenching at my sides as I resist the urge to close the gap between us. She’s too close, too tempting, and I know if I don’t pull away now, I won’t be able to stop myself.
Tamlyn tilts her head toward me, her eyes playful and full of something that stirs me deeper than I care to admit. "You’re not so bad when you’re not scowling, you know." Her voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge of sincerity there that catches me off guard.
I smirk, shaking my head. "Don’t get used to it," I shoot back, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know I’m already too far gone.
She’s breaking through, bit by bit, and I can feel my walls crumbling around her. This woman—this wild, curious, free spirit—is different. She doesn’t fit into the tidy boxes I’ve built for people. I’ve spent years keeping people at arm’s length, especially women, especially ones who make me feel things I don’t want to feel. But Tamlyn... she’s slipping through the cracks, and the worst part is, I’m letting her.
She grins at me, that same infuriating, knowing smile that tells me she can sense the shift too. It’s like a game, but one I’m losing with every step we take deeper into this forest. And now, standing here, side by side at the edge of this ridge, the world spread out beneath us, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s changed between us.
The tension in the air is thick, buzzing with unsaid things, with everything we’ve both been trying to ignore since we met two days ago. I don’t want to admit it, but there’s a pull between us, stronger than I’ve felt in a long time. My body reacts before my mind can catch up, my gaze lingering on her lips, wonderinghow they’d taste again, how her body would feel pressed against mine.
I clench my fists tighter, trying to rein in the urge to act on it. I shouldn’t want this. Not with her. We’re too different—opposite sides of the same coin. She’s all about conservation, about keeping things untouched, wild. And me? I make my living working with the land, taking what it has to offer. I respect it, but in a different way. We don’t see eye to eye, and that should be enough to keep me away.
But it’s not.
"Look," she says suddenly, her voice breaking through my thoughts. She gestures toward the valley below, where the sunlight hits the treetops just right, casting a golden glow over the landscape. "It’s beautiful, isn’t it?"
I nod, unable to take my eyes off her. "Yeah," I murmur, but I’m not talking about the view. The way she looks standing here in the sunlight, her eyes wide with wonder, her smile soft and genuine, it pulls at the darkest corners of my heart. It also makes my cock wake up, twitching and throbbing as I think about her sweet lips wrapped around my shaft.
I swallow hard, trying to push down the heat rising in my chest. This isn’t just about attraction anymore. It’s more than that, and that’s what scares me. I’ve been through enough to know that letting someone in—really letting them in—comes with risks. And Tamlyn? She’s a risk I’m not sure I’m ready to take.
But as she turns to me, her eyes locking onto mine, something shifts. The air between us feels electric, like the moment before a storm. Neither of us moves, but I can feel it—the pull, the tension building with every passing second.
"You gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna say something?" Her voice is soft, teasing, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in her eyes—something vulnerable.
I chuckle, shaking my head. "What am I supposed to say? You’re the one dragging me through the forest like a damn field guide."
