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As if on cue, Declan Wilder's booming voice echoes from somewhere outside. "Steele! You alive in there?"
Delilah's cheeks flush prettily at the implication. I shoot her a roguish wink as I call back, "No thanks to your slow ass finally getting here!"
Declan's mocking laughter rings out. "Yeah, yeah. We're comin' to getcha, so get decent!"
With a resigned sigh, I start extracting myself from our rumpled sheets. "C'mon, gorgeous. Time to face the real world again."
I tug on my clothes as she does the same, neither of us able to quite meet each other's eyes. There's a strange sort of shyness between us now—like we're both still processing the profound intimacy we've shared and what it could mean going forward.
Once we’re dressed, I open the door and blink against the bright glare bouncing off the freshly fallen snow, my eyes quickly landing on the two snowmobiles idling nearby. Their riders, fellow rescuers Garrett and Declan, stand beside them, shovels in their hands. They’ve already cleared a path from the door for us.
"Steele, you dirty dog!" Garrett calls out with a wolfish grin. "No wonder you were in no hurry to get rescued."
"Didn't realize you had such nice company keeping you warm," Declan adds, giving Delilah an obvious once-over. The undisguised admiration in his voice makes me want to clock him, but at the same time? I can't fucking blame him.
"Alright, that's enough," I growl, shooting the two of them a quelling look. "Eyes off the lady before I shut 'em for ya."
Laughing, Delilah takes my hand, allowing me to pull her up behind me on the snowmobile while Garrett and Declan take the other one. Her arms wind around my waist, her body molding to mine. I gun the engine, letting it roar to life beneath us, then take off in a spray of fresh powder. Delilah lets out a whoop of surprised laughter, the sound sending tingles straight down my spine.
Unable to resist, I start showing off—whipping around tight turns, catching air off little moguls, just to hear that wild, joyful sound spill from her lips again. Her grip tightens around me, but there's no fear, only exhilaration.
This woman is something else.
The rush of cold air stings my eyes, but I don't even care. All I can focus on is how Delilah's laughter rings out, bright and carefree, her arms clutching me with a trust that feels just as intimate as anything we shared last night.
By the time we finally pull up to the Silverpine Lodge, I'm utterly drunk on her—the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body pressed against mine, that infectious delight that she seems to exude from her very core.
She hops off with a breathless giggle, her cheeks flushed from the icy wind, those inky curls dancing around her face. My chest tightens at the sight of her so gloriously windswept and radiant.
"That was amazing!" Delilah exclaims, still buzzing with adrenaline as she throws her arms around me.
I tug Delilah closer, savoring the way she melts against me, so warm and soft and real. For a crazy moment, I'm tempted to never let her go—just keep holding onto her here, the rest of the world be damned.
"Hey," I murmur against the crown of her head. "Have dinner with me tonight?"
Delilah pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. "Oooh, as tempting as that is, I actually have other plans already lined up for this evening."
I raise an eyebrow. "Other plans, huh? Should I be jealous?"
"Maybe a little," she teases, bopping me lightly on the nose. "A girl's gotta have some secrets, right?"
I pretend to consider this for a moment, tapping my chin in an exaggerated display of contemplation. "Nah, I don't think I like the sound of that. I'm a much bigger fan of full disclosure, myself."
"Is that so?" Delilah arches one perfectly sculpted brow. "Well then, I suppose you'll just have to wait and see what I've got up my sleeve, won't you?"
The spark of challenge in her eyes is like a match to gasoline, that playful defiance igniting a slow burn inside me all over again. I can't resist pulling her flush against me, delighting in the way her breath hitches at the sudden contact.
"You know I'm not a very patient man, princess," I point out.
"Then I guess it's a good thing I’m learning to live on the edge."
With a low chuckle, I reluctantly release her, forcing myself to take a step back before I do something we'll both regret—or maybe not regret at all. "Alright, alright, you win. This time."
"We'll see about that." Delilah flashes me one last coy smile before turning on her heel and sauntering back toward the lodge.
Without Delilah to keep me company, I spend the day cleaning up the honeymoon cabin, restoring it to its pristine state. It’s late, almost dark, as I guide my truck back through the dimly lit streets of Silverpine, contemplating dinner.
As I round the next corner, the soft glow of Chez Maurice comes into view—Silverpine's one "fancy" restaurant, known for its romantic ambiance and candlelit dining.
