Chapter 45Buck

Chapter 45

Buck

I lead Goldie to her campsite, my hands shoved deep in my pockets, head down. I can barely look at her. Every step I take feels like another nail in the coffin of whatever we were, whatever I wanted us to be.

We were something. I have to believe we were. Or I'll never be able to open up my heart again.

Her footsteps crunch behind me, light and steady. I feel her presence and her absence already, like a weight on my chest, making every breath harder than the last. She's leaving. This is it. And once she's gone, it'll be like she was never here.

Except…I'll remember her. I'll remember her for the rest of my damn life.

I run a hand through my hair, which is already getting messy again as if it, too, knows she's going away and Luke's not going to be happy unless every trace of her is gone with her. I feel like an awkward teenager instead of a grown-ass man. My mouth's dry, and my stomach feels like I might need to go behind a bush and heave up my breakfast. But I know what I want to say. What I have to say. What I'll regret not saying for the rest of my life if I don't. I've been thinking about it the entire walk.

When we get to her tent, I turn to face her, trying to find the right words.

"Will you help me take it down?" she asks. Her eyes are bloodshot from her tears, but somehow, instead of making her look a mess, it just makes her eyes even bluer.

"I know you gotta go, Goldie. Like it or not, we both know that, and yes, of course I'll help you take your tent down, but before we do…" I pause.

She raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to spit it out. I almost lose my nerve. But I can't. I've gotta say it or I'll be an old man virgin on my deathbed, because I'll never meet anyone I want to make love to as much as I want Rose-Golde Locke.

"Would you be my first?"

Her eyes widen.

"What? Your first? You don't mean…?" Her voice is soft, almost like she's trying to make sense of the words. She shakes her head. "Buck, no. You don't want to waste your first time on me. Besides, Luke is probably keeping track of how much time you're gone and he'll know and just be more pissed. You need to let me go, okay?"

Heat creeps up my neck and into my face, embarrassed that she's turning me down. "I don't think I'll ever find anyone I care for as much as you again."

"You probably thought the same thing about Susie May," she says, but she says it kindly, gently.

"You're like…like a force of nature, Goldie. You blew into our lives and turned everything right side up and then upside down again, and I don't want you to leave without knowing what it's like to be with you. Besides, I can handle Luke. I make my own decisions, and if he doesn't like it, well, too damn bad. I'll respect it if you say no, but I can't let you go without asking. I refuse."

I expect her to shake her head, to double down on her no, to say this whole thing is crazy. Hell, maybe it is. But instead, she drops her backpack and takes a step toward me, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile.

"Well, well, mountain man. Who would've thought you were hiding such a bold soul under all that flannel and facial hair?" Her fingers brush against my jawline, stroking my beard, sending shivers down my spine. "Are you sure about this? Once you lose it, you can't get it back, you know?"

I swallow hard, my body—most specifically my heart and my cock—already responding to her touch. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"In that case, Bucky, why don't you let me give you the grand tour of my tent?"

I have to duck then drop to my knees to get inside. I kneel awkwardly by the entrance, unsure of what to do next. I've imagined this moment a hundred times, but now that it's happening, my hands feel too big, my body too clumsy. What if I disappoint her?

Goldie turns to me, her eyes softening as she reaches for the buttons of my shirt. Her fingers move slowly, working her way down, looking at me so tenderly I can't believe she doesn't care about me. I can't. I won't believe that's pity or anything but caring.

"Let's make this special, Buck," she whispers, her breath warm against my neck.

I lose my voice as she slips the shirt off my shoulders. Her hands trail down my chest, down to the button of my jeans. I lean in, pressing my lips against hers, kissing her like it's the last thing I'll ever do. She tastes like wild berries and something else I can't place.

She unzips me and frees my cock from my underwear. Then she begins taking her own clothes off and my hands tremble as I touch her, exploring every inch of skin she exposes to me. I'm glad she takes her time. God, I want this to last.

There's no sexy way to get my jeans off without being able to stand up, but I manage.

When we're finally naked, she pats the sleeping bag. "Lie down, Buck."

I nod, voiceless again. Voiceless and wordless.

She moves above me, swinging one leg over my hip so she's straddling me. She leans down, her golden curls falling around us like a curtain.

"Are you ready?" she asks, her eyes searching mine, clearly looking for any doubts, but she finds none because I have none.

"More than ready," I say, finally finding my voice again.

She brushes her lips against mine and then sits back up, guiding me to her entrance and lowering herself onto me.

I groan as my erection fills her soft, warm pussy. She begins to ride me, slow and sensual, and I match her pace, lifting my hips to thrust into her. As we move together, I lose myself in her, in her soft sighs, in the way our bodies fit together like we were made for each other, despite the major difference in our size.

"You feel so good," I tell her. "You're so beautiful." I reach up and brush her hair back over her shoulders, so it's not covering an inch of her. Her beautiful tits. Her gorgeous curves. "You feel so damn good."

"You feel so damn good too," she says.

But beneath all the good, there's an ache—a bittersweet knowledge that this is an ending, not a beginning, like it should rightfully be.

"Stay with me, Buck," she whispers, clenching her pussy around me. "Be here, in this moment. Don't start thinking about what happens next, okay?"

I nod, though I don't know how much longer I can last. I want to memorize every second of this. I focus on the feel of her skin against mine, the way her breath quickens a bit each time she comes down on me, the quiet moans she makes. And when I finally reach the peak, it's like an avalanche crashing over me, burying me alive, and all I can do is hold on to her for dear life.

"Thank you," I whisper into her hair, my voice thick with all the things I'll never get to say to her.

Her eyes shimmer with more tears that fall onto her cheeks. I brush them away with my thumbs. I want to always be the one to brush those tears away, but I won't be.

"Thank you, Buck. For trusting me with this. For trusting me at all, after…"

"Don't," I tell her. "Please don't. I forgive you, Goldie. We all make mistakes."

"You better get back," she tells me when she finally lifts herself off of me. The loss I feel is immense.

I watch in silence as she dresses, each piece of clothing a reminder that our time together is ending. With every button, every zipper, a piece of my heart feels like it's being taken away.

"I'm supposed to get you back to your car," I remind her.

"You don't need to," she says. "I promise. I'll leave and I won't come back. Just throw the tent away, or keep it, or whatever."

It's the saddest damn thing I've ever heard.

"I don't suspect I'll need it again. I don't see any camping in my future."

And that's the second saddest damn thing I've ever heard.

Finally, fully dressed and ready to go, she whispers, "Goodbye, Buck. Take care of yourself, okay? And I know it's damn unfair of me to say, but I did fall in love with you."

I watch her walk out of the tent, the flap falling closed behind her. And just like that, she's gone.

I lie there for a long moment, the scent of her still lingering in the air. I feel different, changed somehow, like a part of me is missing. But I wouldn't trade this for anything. Not the pain, not the heartache. Because for one brief moment, I had her. And that's something I'll carry with me for the rest of my life.

"I fell in love with you too," I whisper.

As I step outside, already the mountain seems quieter, emptier without her.