Chapter 1

Chapter One

E mma

The Devil’s Peak Lodge is exactly as I remember—warm, cozy, the crackling fire casting dancing shadows across the wooden beams. It smells of pine, strong coffee, and a hint of something more masculine, something that takes me right back to a time when I thought I had everything figured out. I take a breath, steadying my nerves as I push open the heavy door, the chill of the mountain air swirling in behind me.

I hesitate in the doorway, eyes scanning the lodge’s dimly lit interior. And then ice freeze my veins when my gaze lands on him . Slate. He’s standing near the fire, shaking off snow from his shoulders, his jacket flung across a nearby bench. Muscles flex under his thermal shirt as he runs a hand through his damp hair, and a flash of something hot coils low in my belly. God, he’s even more rugged than I remember, his jaw shadowed with stubble, his frame broader, stronger.

I’d heard that he’d created an extreme mountain adventure company with his brothers, but to finally see it in the flesh is something else. They’ve accomplished so much, putting all the skills they learned growing up in these mountains to good use by taking tourists and outdoorsmen out on river rafting trips, mountain climbing expeditions, snowmobile tours, and so much more. I can’t help the swell of pride that builds in my chest at all they’ve built.

Slate hasn’t noticed me yet, too caught up in banter with his brothers scattered around the lodge. Colt is the first to pipe up, grinning like a fool. “You’re looking rough, big brother. Those tourists give you a run for your money?”

Slate smirks, and it’s that same cocky twist of his lips that used to drive me wild. “Maybe you boys need to start pulling your weight for once.” His voice is deep, rolling through the lodge like a rumble of thunder. My breath catches, and I take a step back, half-hoping they won’t see me. But of course, the universe isn’t that kind.

Thorne shoves Slate’s shoulder, laughter bubbling up. “You just love playing the hero, don’t you?”

Slate’s smile widens, but there’s an edge to it. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

The banter is easy, familiar, the kind that only comes from a lifetime together. And just like that, the memories flood back. Late nights, stolen kisses under the stars, the way Slate’s arms felt around me, safe and solid. I swallow the lump in my throat, reminding myself that those days are long gone. I have a job to do, and it doesn’t involve dredging up the past.

Steeling myself, I clear my throat. “Excuse me.”

The lodge falls silent. Slate’s head snaps up, his smile freezing, and for a moment, all he does is stare. His eyes are darker than I remember, sharper. My pulse quickens under his scrutiny, but I keep my expression cool, lifting my chin.

“Emma?” The disbelief in his voice is quickly masked, replaced with something harder. He crosses his arms, the muscles in his forearms flexing, the air between us crackling with tension. “What are you doing here?”

Before I can answer, Ridge lets out a low whistle, his grin widening. “Well, well, look what the storm blew in. The one that got away.”

Colt elbows Slate with a smirk, a knowing gleam in his eye. “You gonna sweep her off her feet, Slate? Or just hope she doesn’t break your heart again?”

I force a tight smile, ignoring the jab, though my cheeks burn. “I see you boys haven’t changed a bit. Still full of bad jokes.”

Slate’s eyes narrow, his gaze never leaving mine. “What do you want, Emma?”

There’s a challenge in his voice, and it ignites something stubborn inside me. I straighten my shoulders, refusing to let him see how much he affects me. “I’m looking for a guide to take me up the north ridge. Need a few shots of the northern lights for a magazine spread.”

His eyebrow arches, and his voice drops, rough like gravel. “You think you can just waltz back into town and expect someone to hold your hand up the mountain?”

My jaw tightens, heat flaring in my chest. “Not looking for a babysitter, Slate. Just a professional. I’ll pay whatever the rate is.”

Shepherd snorts, slapping Slate on the back. “Sounds like she’s hiring, Slate. Or are you too scared to face a little trip down memory lane?”

Slate’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, I think he might actually punch his brother. But his focus shifts back to me, his expression unreadable. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for, Emma.”

I take a step closer, refusing to be intimidated. “What I’m asking for is a guide, Slate. Unless you’re telling me you can’t handle it.”

His eyes blaze, and suddenly he’s in my space, so close I can feel the heat radiating off him, his scent filling my lungs—pine, sweat, mountain air. His lips curl into a half-smile, and the sight of it sends a jolt through me, memories of that mouth on my skin flashing behind my eyes. “Oh, I can handle it, babe. The question is, can you? Or are you going to run off again when things get tough?”

I hate the way my body responds to his nearness, the way my skin prickles with awareness, my cheeks flushing under his intense gaze. But I refuse to let him see it. I lift my chin, meeting his stare head-on. “Not running this time, Slate. And I don’t need you to protect me.”

Slate’s smile is slow, predatory, his voice a low rumble that seems to wrap around me. “We’ll see about that.”

Flint whistles, stepping between us with a broad grin. “Damn, you two gonna keep circling each other, or are we all gonna catch fire from this heat you’re throwing around?”

Holt leans back against the counter, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Slate here’s been sulking ever since you left, Emma. Think you can put him out of his misery?”

Slate shoots Holt a dark look, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Holt, shut the hell up.”

I can’t help the twitch of my lips, amusement slipping through my resolve despite myself. But I quickly shove it down, forcing my attention back to the reason I’m here. “So, Slate, are you available, or should I find someone else?”

His eyes narrow, and the playful edge is gone, replaced by something more serious, more dangerous. “You want a guide? Fine. But I’m not making this easy for you.”

I arch a brow, stepping even closer, until I can feel the prickling heat of his body on my skin. “Good. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Slate holds my gaze for a beat longer, something dark and heated passing between us, before he turns abruptly, stalking towards the back room to grab his gear. The air seems to deflate with his departure, the charged energy between us leaving a tense, hollow space behind.

His brothers chuckle, and I hear Zane mutter, “This is gonna be fun to watch.”

I ignore them, letting out a shaky breath, my pulse still racing. My hands clench into fists at my sides as I watch Slate disappear into the back room, muscles bunching under his shirt with each step.

He’s infuriating. Arrogant. And he looks so damn good, it makes my head spin. I hate that he can still get under my skin, still make me feel like this. Like I’m right back where we left off, teetering on the edge of something that’s always felt too wild, too consuming.

I shake my head, trying to regain some sense of control. This isn’t about the past. It’s about the job. It’s about proving that I don’t need him. That I never did.

But as Slate emerges, slinging a heavy pack over his shoulder, his eyes finding mine with that same, smoldering intensity, I know I’m lying to myself. Because some part of me is still that girl who fell for him all those years ago, who never quite stopped wondering what could have been.

And maybe, just maybe, there’s a part of me that’s hoping this time, we’ll finally find out.