Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

PARKER

I t felt like the leaves were putting on a show just for us, a stunning display of reds, oranges, and yellows that swirled overhead as we drove. We'd left the city behind, its towering skyscrapers replaced by the towering pine, oak, and maple trees of the countryside. I could feel the tension slipping from my shoulders, replaced by an excited fluttering in my stomach as Travis and I ventured towards our little weekend adventure.

"Hey, check out those colors," he said, his voice warm with the same excitement that was coursing through me.

"Mother Nature's really showing off, isn't she?" I replied, leaning back into the seat and watching the way the sunlight danced across his face through the windows.

"Best time of the year for a camping trip," he added, shooting me that heart-stopping grin that never failed to make my pulse race. "You ready to leave the concrete jungle behind and get wild with me, Parker?"

"Wild doesn't even begin to cover it," I said, returning his grin with one of my own. It wasn't just the prospect of nature that had me on edge—it was the newness of this, us, something budding between two people who'd only known each other professionally until very recently. There was something incredibly thrilling about exploring these uncharted territories together.

A couple of hours later, we pulled into the campsite, a picturesque clearing that looked like it had been ripped straight from a postcard. The air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of pine and damp soil that filled my lungs and seemed to cleanse away any remnants of city smog.

"Here we are," Travis announced, killing the engine and surveying our home for the weekend with a satisfied nod. "Home sweet temporary home."

"Looks perfect," I said, stepping out of the car and stretching my legs. The ground was soft beneath my feet, a carpet of fallen leaves rustling with each movement.

"Let's get this gear out," he suggested, opening the trunk and revealing an impressive array of camping equipment. "I brought the works. You're not sleeping on the ground on my watch."

"Always the gentleman," I teased, grabbing the tent bag and a couple of foldable chairs. "Where do you want to set up?"

"Right there looks good." He pointed towards a flat area not far from where we'd parked, close enough to hear the gentle babble of a nearby stream.

"Race you," I said playfully, hoisting the tent over my shoulder and breaking into a light jog.

"Hey, no fair!" He laughed, but he was quick on my heels, the sound of his footsteps crunching right behind me. We reached the spot at the same time, dropping our load onto the ground and panting lightly from the short sprint.

"Teamwork makes the dream work, right?" Travis said as we began unpacking the tent, his fingers deftly unraveling ropes and extending poles. Despite his playful exterior, I could tell he was serious about creating a comfortable space for us to share.

"Absolutely," I agreed, unfolding the fabric and helping him lift the structure until it stood proudly amongst the trees. "It's like our own little fortress."

"Only the best for my—ahem—for us," he corrected himself, a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks. It was endearing to see that confident demeanor crack ever so slightly, revealing the anticipation he felt about the weekend ahead.

"Thanks, Travis. It means a lot," I said, feeling warmth bloom in my chest. I watched as he secured the final stakes into the ground, his muscular body moving with purposeful grace.

He caught me staring and winked. "Admiring the view?" he asked, standing up and dusting off his hands.

"Can you blame me?" I shot back, unable to help the laughter spilling from my lips. He joined in, and for a moment, everything else faded away—there was just us, the forest, and the promise of what was to come.

"Let's get the rest of the stuff," he suggested after a moment, his tone shifting back to the task at hand. "Then we can relax and soak all this in."

"Sounds perfect," I said, and we worked together in an easy rhythm, unloading sleeping bags, a portable stove, and all the other essentials for our weekend escape. The camp began to take shape, a cozy little spot in the midst of nature's grandeur.

Once everything was settled, I stepped back to take it all in—the tent nestled among the trees, a fire pit waiting to be lit, our seats positioned just so to face the eventual sunset. It was serene, idyllic even, and I couldn't have imagined a better way to spend a weekend. Especially with the company I had.

"Want to take a walk?" he asked, brushing his hands on his jeans.

"Lead the way," I said with a contented sigh, falling into step beside him.

We set off at a leisurely pace, the forest floor soft beneath our steps, the air around us free of any smog. Birds chirped above us, flitting from branch to branch, while the occasional squirrel scampered across our path, bushy tails swishing happily.

"It's beautiful out here, so relaxing and peaceful. The city has nothing on this."

"Nothing beats the great outdoors." He took a deep breath, his chest expanding beneath his fitted shirt. "And nothing beats sharing it with you."

Our eyes met, and there was a warmth there that had nothing to do with the mild fall weather. My heart did that fluttery thing it seemed to reserve just for him. I reached for his hand. "Come on. Let's see what's around that bend."

The trail wound through the forest, a dirt ribbon that led to possible untold discoveries. We talked about everything and nothing, our conversation flowing as easily as the light breeze whispering through the branches.

"Hey," Travis suddenly burst out, stopping short and pointing ahead. "You see that?"

"See what?" I squinted, trying to follow his line of sight.

"The waterfall," he said. "It's just up ahead. I bet it's amazing. Race you there?" Challenge laced his words, but his smile softened the competition into something fun and exhilarating.

I arched an eyebrow. "I don't know. You seriously think you can beat me?"

"Absolutely. Ready—set—" Without finishing the countdown, he took off, his laughter trailing behind.

"Cheater!" I called out, but I was already sprinting after him, my breath coming in quick bursts. The forest became a blur of color and motion as I pushed myself, trying to catch up to that confident stride of his.

He glanced back, a taunting smile on his face. "Gotta be quicker than that, Reyes!"

My feet pounded the path, and I felt alive in a way that was electrifying. This was more than just a race; it was a chase, a game, a dance of sorts between two people who were still discovering all the ways they fit together.

Closer now, I could hear the waterfall's roar. I put on a burst of speed, and for a second, I thought I might actually catch him. But then, with a laugh, Travis reached the waterfall first, throwing his arms up in victory. "I win!"

"Only because you cheated!" I arrived beside him, panting and grinning.

"Ah, but did you see your face?" he teased, his chest rising and falling in quick succession. "Pure determination. I admire that about you."

"You do, huh?" I nudged him playfully, feeling a rush of affection for this man who could turn even a simple hike into a memory I'd cherish.

"Absolutely," he confirmed, pulling me close. His kiss tasted wild, of freedom, and something that felt suspiciously like home.

"Next time, I'm setting the terms of the race," I said once we parted, both of us gazing at the majestic waterfall before us.

"Deal," he agreed, squeezing my hand. "But right now, how about we enjoy the view?" We stood side by side, hands clasped, hearts racing not from the run but from the sheer joy of being together.

After a while, we continued our walk, our voices blending with the sounds of nature. It wasn't long before we stumbled across a small wooden shack adorned with colorful signs that read "Kayak Rentals" in bold, adventurous letters.

"Hey, look at that," I said, pointing towards it. A gentle stream flowed nearby, leading into a wider body of water that sparkled under the sun's generous rays.

Travis followed my gaze and his eyes lit up with that familiar spark of spontaneity. "You ever been kayaking?"

"Once or twice," I replied. "How about you?"

"Let's just say water and I get along pretty well." His grin was infectious, and I found myself already nodding before he even suggested it.

"Let's do it."

Inside the rustic hut, where the smell of damp wood mingled with the scent of river water, we were greeted by a wall of paddles and life vests. The attendant gave us a brief rundown—a formality for Travis who seemed more at ease here than anywhere else.

"Race you on the water too?" he teased, fastening the straps of his life vest with deft fingers.

"Let's not make everything a competition." I laughed, but the challenge had already set my heart racing with anticipation.

Out on the water, the world transformed. The water was smooth and clear as we moved in sync with the gentle currents, the occasional splash of our paddles punctuating the serene silence. "Look at you go," Travis called out from his kayak, which glided effortlessly alongside mine. "I'm starting to think you've done this more than ‘once or twice.'"

"Maybe I'm just a natural," I shot back playfully, unable to keep the pride from my voice as I navigated a particularly tricky current with a skillful twist of my paddle.

"Or maybe you're just showing off for me." There was that laugh again, warm and delighted, carried across the water.

"Can you blame me?"

"Trust me, I'm already thoroughly impressed by you," he replied, causing my cheeks to heat up despite the cool breeze that swept over us.

We paddled on, sometimes talking, sometimes simply enjoying the shared silence. The physical exertion was a welcome burn in my arms, a reminder of the strength I'd honed through my work as a physical therapist—strength Travis admired openly when he caught sight of my biceps flexing with each stroke.

"Damn, Parker," he whistled appreciatively. "Someone's been doing their exercises."

"Occupational hazard," I joked, though the flush of pleasure at his words was undeniable.

"Remind me to have an ‘accident' so I can be put under your care," he said with a wink, making me snort with laughter.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," I replied, though the idea of taking care of Travis, of being the one he turned to in need, sent an unexpected thrill through me.

"Wouldn't be the worst thing," he said, almost as if he were talking to himself, and I wondered if he realized how much weight those words carried.

The water soon opened up into a calm, wide expanse that allowed us to drift closer together. Our kayaks bumped gently against each other, and Travis reached out to steady mine with a hand that held on for perhaps a moment longer than necessary. Our eyes met, and the world around us faded—the trees, the water, the sky—all of it paled in comparison to the depth I found in his blue gaze.

"Having fun?" he asked, his voice low and intimate over the short distance between us.

"More than I thought possible," I replied honestly, my hand finding its way atop his on the side of my kayak.

"Good," he said, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a touch that was feather-light but filled with intent.

We resumed paddling, enveloped in quiet contentment. Every stroke was a stroke towards something new, something beautiful. And as the sunlight waned, casting elongated shadows upon the water, I knew without a doubt that this weekend was merely the beginning of countless adventures to come—with Travis by my side.

The last of the day's light was giving way to twilight as we made our way back to our campsite, our laughter still echoing in the cool air. The physical exertion from kayaking had left an enjoyable burn in my muscles, a testament to the day's adventures.

"Alright, let's get this fire started before it gets any darker," Travis suggested after we'd both washed up.

"Right behind you," I replied, watching as he expertly navigated around the campsite, picking up twigs and branches with an efficiency that told me he'd done this many times before.

There was something deeply satisfying about collecting firewood together, a sense of teamwork that went beyond the mere act. It was as if each branch we added to our pile symbolized a building block of the relationship we were forging—one that was warm, natural, and full of potential.

"Think this is enough?" I asked, dropping another armful onto the growing pile.

"Perfect. Now watch the master at work."

I watched as he began arranging the wood into a perfect pyramid structure, the kindling nestled at its heart. He struck a match, his movements deliberate and focused, and the small flame caught, casting a warm glow over his face. His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and there was that spark again—the one that seemed to ignite something far deeper than the fire in front of us.

"Fire's not the only thing heating up around here," I teased, unable to resist the pull of his gaze.

"Keep your compliments coming, Parker. They might just earn you the first bite of whatever I whip up for dinner," he replied with a wink.

With the fire crackling merrily, our campsite was intimate, romantic, and so damn right that I couldn't help but feel a swell of contentment rise within me. "Wait until you see what I've got planned for dinner," he said, pulling a cooler closer and opening it to reveal a selection of meats and vegetables. "Hope you're hungry."

"Starving," I confessed. My stomach growled in agreement, eager to taste whatever magic he could conjure over an open flame.

"Good. You're about to witness the culinary talents of Travis Brooks." He rolled up his sleeves, revealing forearms that were well toned with sparse blond hair. It was hard not to stare, not to appreciate the way his muscles flexed as he skewered pieces of marinated chicken and bell peppers onto metal rods.

"Is there anything you can't do?" I asked, half-joking but entirely serious. Travis was a man of many layers, each more intriguing than the last.

"Can't seem to stop thinking about you," he retorted smoothly, and my heart did that funny little skip-beat dance it had perfected since meeting him.

"Flirt," I accused, though my tone was fond, affectionate even. "It's no wonder you never went home alone from the clubs."

His movements stopped, his eyes locking on me. "You're the only one I want to go home with now," he promised, and I believed him.

The aroma of grilled meat began to mingle with the smoky scent of the fire, creating a mouthwatering mixture that played upon all my senses. Travis moved with a grace that belied his size, turning the skewers with precision, the flames making his skin look like it was glowing.

"It's ready," he announced after a while, plating the food with care. It looked like something out of a gourmet magazine, and I was once again struck by the depth of his abilities.

"Wow, this looks amazing," I said, genuinely impressed as I took the plate he offered.

"Wait until you taste it."

And taste it I did. The flavors burst on my tongue—smoky, savory, with a hint of sweetness that made my taste buds sing. Watching him cook had been a treat, but this was another level of enjoyment.

"Damn, Travis. When you said you could cook, I didn't realize you meant you could out-cook professional chefs."

"Guess I'm just full of surprises," he replied, his lips quirking into that familiar, cocky smile that I found so endearing.

"Keep them coming," I said, my voice softer now, edged with the vulnerability that comes from opening one's heart. "I'm starting to think there's nothing better than being surprised by you."

He reached across the small space between us, his hand finding mine, his touch sending a current through me that was as vital as the warmth from the fire. "Get used to it, Parker, because I'm not going anywhere."

Surrounded by the beauty of nature and the man who was quickly becoming my everything, I felt a profound sense of peace. This weekend was shaping up to be more than a simple escape—it was a journey towards something real and lasting. And I was ready to savor every second of it.

"Seriously, that was amazing," I said as I scooped up the last bite and shoved it into my mouth. "You've got magic hands, Trav."

"Good to know you think so," he teased, winking at me. The innuendo hung in the air between us, light and playful. He finished eating, then leaned back in his chair, looking contented. "But enough about my cooking. Tell me something real, Parker. What's one dream you have that you've never told anyone?"

The question caught me off guard, a pleasant prickle of nervousness dancing up my spine. I swallowed, not just the food, but also the sudden lump of vulnerability. "Okay—well," I started, my gaze drifting up to the canopy of leaves above us. "I've always wanted to write a book. Nothing fancy, just—stories that matter, you know? Stories that might help someone feel less alone."

"Wow." He sounded genuinely impressed, and it warmed me more than the fire could. "That's beautiful, Parker. You know, Garrett's an author. If you ever decide to give it a try, I'm sure he would be happy to help you."

"Thanks," I murmured, feeling my cheeks flush with a mixture of gratitude that he hadn't laughed at me. Not that I'd thought he would. If anyone would understand my ambitions, it was him. "What about you? Any hidden dreams in that confident exterior?"

A soft smile graced his lips, as warm as the embers crackling before us. "I guess—sometimes I think about having a family. You know, the whole package. Sort of like I had with my parents before they were taken from me. A partner who gets me, a couple of kids running around, maybe even a dog."

"Sounds pretty perfect," I replied softly, the image of it blossoming in my mind—Travis, with laughter-filled eyes, chasing after a pair of exuberant toddlers and scooping them up in his strong arms.

"Yeah, it does," he agreed, his eyes locking onto mine. In them, I saw something deep and earnest, and it struck a chord within me.

We talked on, delving deeper into the topic of fears and aspirations. His concerns about being the last single man in his group of friends echoed my own worries of finding someone who truly understood me. We shared the yearning for connection, for a love that was both a shelter and a celebration.

As the sun began its descent, the sky transformed into a canvas painted with a talented artist's brush. The day's warmth lingered, but the coming night promised to be cool. Travis stood abruptly, brushing crumbs from his jeans. Taking my empty paper plate with his, he tossed them into the fire then turned to me, holding out his hand.

"Come on, follow me," he said, his voice laced with an excitement that was contagious.

I watched, curious, as he fetched a blanket from our tent and spread it out on the grassy ground nearby. "Let's watch the stars come out," he suggested as he dropped down onto the blanket, patting the space beside him.

For someone who had never dated or been in a relationship before, he certainly seemed to know a lot about romance. I was just happy I was the person he'd decided to romance. I joined him on the blanket, the earth beneath us solid and welcoming. As we lay back, our shoulders touching, the first stars twinkled into existence above us.

"Out here, away from the city lights, it's like a whole other world," I breathed out, lost in the vastness above.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Travis said, his voice a quiet rumble. "Makes you feel infinite and insignificant all at once."

"Exactly," I whispered back, turning to see his profile against the darkening sky—the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips.

We lay there in silence, the kind that spoke volumes, the kind that wove itself around us, drawing us closer without a single word. And as the sky deepened to a rich velvet blue, scattered with a million points of light, I felt the magnitude of the moment settle over me.

Lying next to him, under the sprawling sky, I realized the stars weren't the only things taking my breath away. I reached for his hand, and our fingers wove together effortlessly as if they'd been searching for one another in the darkness.

"Orion," I pointed upwards, "always looking for a fight."

"Typical macho man." Travis chuckled, his breath warm against my cheek. "And there—Cassiopeia, the queen on her throne." His arm stretched out above us, tracing the W shape in the sky.

We traded stories then, our words floating up to mingle with the stars. I told him about how as a kid, my siblings and me had lain in fields just like this one, making wishes on shooting stars, dreaming of a future that felt both impossibly far away and as close as our next breath.

"Did any of those wishes come true?" he asked, his tone soft, inviting me to share more than just anecdotes.

"Some," I admitted. "But sometimes what you think you want isn't what you need."

"Ah, the wisdom of hindsight," he mused.

"Exactly." I turned to look at him, his features barely visible now except for the way they seemed to catch the moonlight. "What about you? Any stargazing memories?"

"Plenty," Travis said. His thumb stroked the back of my hand as he spoke. "Aunt Lisa used to take me out driving on some back roads outside the city when she needed to escape. She joked that the stars were her therapy until she could afford real therapy. We'd park right there on the side of the road and stretch out on the hood of the car and just stare up at the stars." His voice was a gentle rumble. "She'd point out constellations, but we'd make up our own stories about them."

"Like what?" I prodded, genuinely curious about the man beside me who felt both like an old friend and a new mystery.

"See that cluster of stars?" He gestured toward a random grouping. "That was her ‘Dancing Teapot.' She said it poured out strength and resilience into anyone who needed it."

"Maybe it's pouring some into us right now," I suggested, letting the silence stretch between us, comfortable and intimate.

"Maybe," he agreed, shifting slightly so his shoulder nudged against mine. Our bodies pressed closer on the blanket, and a warmth that had nothing to do with the mild autumn air blossomed in my chest.

"Travis—"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for this," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "For the stargazing, for the laughter, for making me feel…"

"Feel what?" he prompted when my words trailed off.

"Alive. Hopeful. Happy," I finished, "in a way that I haven't for a long time."

He didn't respond with words. Instead, he moved even closer, pulling the blanket snugly around us. The fabric created a cocoon that held the night's chill at bay and amplified the heat radiating between our bodies. It was like we were the only two souls in existence, wrapped in our own little bubble.

Our conversation drifted away, replaced by a symphony of night sounds—the distant call of an owl, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, the steady rhythm of our breathing. And beneath the blanket, our hands remained entwined, a tangible connection that spoke volumes.

"Look, a shooting star!" Travis broke the silence, his voice tinged with excitement.

I followed his gaze just in time to see the bright streak fizzle out, leaving a glowing trail behind it. "Make a wish," I said, the words coming out instinctively.

"Already have everything I wished for right here," he murmured. He turned his face towards me, sending a shiver down my spine that wasn't from the nighttime air.

"Me too," I confessed, and it was true. In that moment, under the watchful eyes of countless stars, with Travis's warmth seeping into my bones, I couldn't imagine being anywhere else or with anyone else. This was where I belonged.

His breath was a warm whisper against my cheek, sending ripples of anticipation through me. The night had wrapped us in its velvety embrace, the only light coming from the flickering fire and the countless stars above. I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, through the thin layer of our shirts as they pressed together. His fingers, still interlaced with mine, tightened ever so slightly—a silent plea for something more.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I murmured, though I wasn't looking at the sky anymore. My gaze lingered on his face, illuminated by the soft golden glow of the moon above.

"Nothing compares to you," he replied, his voice husky, laced with an emotion that made my heart feel like it might burst out of my chest.

He tilted his head, closing of the small distance between us. His lips met mine in a kiss that was tender at first, hesitant—like the delicate brush of a butterfly's wing. But the hesitation evaporated as quickly as it came, and the kiss deepened, fueled by the pent-up longing we'd both been holding back. There was a hunger in the way Travis kissed me, a fervent need that matched the urgency thrumming through my veins.

Our hands began to wander, emboldened by the passion that crackled between us like the sparks from the fire. His fingers traced the line of my jaw before threading through my hair, tugging gently, eliciting a low moan that vibrated against his lips. My own hands roamed across the expanse of his back, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath his shirt—an unspoken testament to the strength that lay beneath his playful exterior.

The kisses grew more insistent, more demanding. Our breaths mingled, ragged and hot, as we explored each other with a newfound fervor. The world beyond our small clearing ceased to exist; there was only the two of us and the fire we stoked within one another with every touch, every sigh.

"Travis," I gasped when his lips trailed down the sensitive skin of my neck, marking a path that seared into my memory. His name on my lips was both a plea and a declaration, a sound that seemed to resonate with every fiber of my being.

"Parker," he whispered back, the sound reverberating through me. His hands slipped under my shirt, exploring my torso with a reverence that left me breathless. The calloused pads of his fingers sent a trail of fire wherever they roamed.

There was no rush, no end goal in sight—only the desire to savor each moment, to memorize the way he made me feel: cherished, wanted, like I was the only person who mattered to him. The boundaries of friendship that once defined us melted away, leaving in their wake the thrilling realization that this—whatever this was—was real, and it was ours.

Stumbling into the tent, our laughter mingled with the rustling of nylon and the soft thud of our gear pushed hastily aside. We continued to explore each other with an urgency that had been building all evening. Travis quickly lit a lantern then turned his attention back to me.

"God, Parker," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. His hands roamed my back before slipping beneath my shirt to trace the contours of my spine, his touch sending shivers through me despite the warmth of the tent.

"I need to feel you," I murmured, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head, revealing miles and miles of taut muscles and smooth skin. My fingers danced across his chest, delighting in the way his breath hitched when I brushed over his nipples.

He mirrored my actions, stripping me of my own shirt, his eyes darkened with passion as he took in the sight of me. "Please, let me make you feel good," he whispered as he hovered over me, kissing my lips, my chin, down the column of my throat.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice hitching as Travis clamped his lips over my nipple. His tongue circled the tiny nub, teasing it into a sharp peak. My back arched when he gently bit down, a low moan rumbling up from my chest.

He continued his exploration, his lips brushing across my sensitive flesh, planting a trail of tantalizing kisses down my chest and over my stomach, making a detour to my navel. His tongue flicked across it, dipping in teasingly before cool breath blew across the area. My head spun as all my blood rushed south, making me achingly hard.

"Travis!" His name was a plea on my lips, but I wasn't even sure what I was begging for.

A low growl emanated from his chest as he scooted lower, letting me know he was as turned on by what we were doing as I was. His tongue traced a line just above the waistband of my pants and then he was reaching for them, yanking them down my legs and tossing them and my shoes somewhere behind him. He quickly rid me of my socks and underwear and then he settled in between my legs as I spread them, accommodating the broad width of his shoulders.

His strong hands gripped my hips, urging me closer. I felt his breath against me before the warm wetness of his mouth enveloped me. A gasp tore from my throat, and I tangled my fingers in his silky locks. I saw stars as Travis's mouth began to work its magic along my length, his movements steady and sure, as if we'd been doing this together for years.

"Please," I cried.

"What do you need, Parker? Tell me," he urged, his tongue circling the weeping head of my cock.

"You," I answered breathlessly. "I need you, in my mouth."

Travis elicited a pleased sound, his movements quick as he stripped himself the rest of the way. He lay down naked beside me, facing the opposite direction. Someday, very soon I wanted to take my time, memorizing every glorious inch of him, but not this time. I was too close, the handle on my control stretched much too thin.

Rolling onto my side, I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock. He was rock hard, the head a slightly deeper color than the rest of him, the slit weeping continuously with precum. My mouth watered at the sight, and I wrapped my lips around the head, taking his length into my mouth.

I tasted him, savoring the saltiness, the very essence of Travis, as I took him deeper. He groaned, his hips rocking gently, testing my gag reflex as his mouth worked miracles on my own cock. We moved in synch, a testament to the trust and desire that bound us. The pleasure built, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to overwhelm, but we held on, determined to make this moment last, to show with each caress how deep our feelings ran.

"Travis," I breathed against his skin as we both neared the edge, "I'm?—"

"Me too," he replied, his voice strained. Together we tipped over, waves of release crashing over us as we clung to each other, drinking each other down.

After, there was only the sound of our heavy breathing and the occasional crackle of the fire outside. Travis moved back up, so we were face to face, pulling me into his arms. The afterglow wrapped around us like a blanket, the night air cooling the sweat on our skin.

Travis reached up and traced my fingers with his fingertip. "I had no idea," he whispered softly.

"What do you mean?"

His eyes swam with emotion in the light from the lantern. "I've had plenty of—experiences." He winced at the reminder, so I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. We both had a past, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was what happened between the two of us. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, even with all of that, I never knew sex could feel like this. Like what we did was bigger than the two of us, like we were creating something new."

His eyes closed as he drifted off to sleep, but I stayed awake long enough to put the fire out and smiling at the wonder I'd heard in his voice. "We did create something," I whispered back. "We were making love."