Page 39 of Maple Kissed by the Mountain Man

“And what is the truth, Burke?” she challenged softly, her voice trembling just enough to tear right through me.

I leaned in, my mouth inches from her ear, letting her feel the heat radiating off my body.

“The truth is, I want you on my mountain,” I growled low in my throat. “I want you in that tent, riding me, when we go find you another perfect shot. I want you in my cabin, standing in my kitchen, wearing my shirts, and I want to wake up with you tangled in my sheets every single morning. None of it was a mistake. You are not a mistake.”

Her dark eyes shone with unshed tears, but she folded her arms over her chest, holding her ground.

“You’re going to have to work for it,” she whispered, though her cheeks were flushed a deep, gorgeous rose.

“I’ll build you a house with my bare hands if you ask for it.”

The speakers near the front stage squealed with high-pitched feedback.

“Could all photography finalists please gather near the main stage?” a woman’s voice crackled through the room.

Maggie glanced toward the front of the hall. I could see the indecision on her face.

“Go,” I told her softly.

Her eyes darted back to mine, dark and searching. “What are you going to do?”

“Stand right here and wait. I’m not going anywhere, Maggie.”

She stared at me for three long, agonizing seconds, her gaze lingering on my mouth before she finally turned and walked toward the stage.

I stayed beside her photograph.

The festival director took the microphone, announcing third place. Then second.

Maggie stood on the edge of the riser, her shoulders tense.

“And this year’s grand-prize winner...” the director’s voice boomed. “For Morning Reflection... Maggie Bennett!”

The room erupted into loud, echoing applause.

Maggie froze completely. Her hands clapped over her mouth, her eyes widening in pure, unadulterated excitement before a brilliant, dazzling smile broke across her face.

I clapped harder than anyone in that room.

She walked onto the stage accepting the oversized cardboard check for five thousand dollars.

She’d made her dream come true and I was fucking proud of her.

Across the sea of clapping tourists and flashing camera bulbs, Maggie’s eyes searched the crowd until she found me.

I was still standing right where she’d left me.

When the local news photographer finished taking her picture and the townspeople cleared out, she marched straight back through the crowd toward me, the oversized check tucked under her arm.

“You won,” I said as she reached me.

“I won.” A breathless laugh escaping her.

“I’m proud of you, Maggie,” I said, my voice entirely serious.

She looked up at me like no one had ever said those words to her in her life. “Thank you, Ford.”

She looked back at the frame on the wall. “I couldn’t have taken it without you.”