Epilogue

B ella–six weeks later

The mountain air bites at my skin, crisp and cold, but it only sharpens the thrill that runs through me as Archer's hand tightens around mine. I glance up at him as we hike the last stretch of the trail, the sun slipping lower in the sky, casting a golden light that seems to melt into the trees. He's been quiet for most of the hike, which is unlike him—usually he's teasing, playful, but today there's a charge in the air that I can't quite name.

"Are you going to keep dragging me up this mountain, or are you going to tell me what's going on?" I tease, trying to lighten the mood, but my heart is already racing in a way that has nothing to do with the hike.

He glances down at me, his lips curving into a slow smile. "You'll see."

My pulse quickens. That look in his eyes, the way his grip tightens just a little—it sends a shiver down my spine. I should be used to the way Archer can make me feel like this by now, but every time, it's like he strips away every layer of composure I try to cling to.

We crest the top of the trail, and suddenly, the lake comes into view. It's nestled between the peaks, the water perfectly still, reflecting the deep blues of the sky. It's breathtaking, but all I can focus on is him. Archer pauses at the edge of the lake, turning to face me, and for a second, the world seems to stop.

There's something in his expression I haven't seen before. Something deeper, more raw.

"What's going on with you today?" I ask, my voice softer now. The playful edge is gone, replaced by a quiet intensity that mirrors his own.

Archer doesn't answer right away. Instead, he steps closer, his hands sliding up my arms, pulling me against him. His touch is steady, grounding, but the way his eyes lock onto mine makes my heart stutter.

"Bella," he begins, his voice low, rough with emotion, "you know I'm not one for speeches."

I laugh, but it's shaky, my chest tightening as I wait for him to continue. "Oh, is that so?"

He lets out a breath, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, his fingers lingering at the edge of my jaw. "You've changed everything for me. Not just Copper Mountain. Not just my life here. You've changed me."

His words hit me like a punch, and for a moment, I can't breathe. The weight of what he's saying settles over me, and I'm lost in the intensity of his gaze, the vulnerability there.

"Archer…" I start, but my voice falters as he drops to one knee.

My breath leaves me in a rush, and time seems to freeze. I stare at him, my heart pounding so hard I can barely hear anything else. Archer's already reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small box. His fingers are steady, more steady than I feel right now, as he opens it, revealing a simple, stunning ring.

"Marry me, Bella," he says, his voice a raw whisper. "I can't imagine my life without you in it. I don't want to. You belong here—in Copper Mountain–with me."

I blink, trying to process what's happening, but all I can see is the love in his eyes, the depth of what he's offering. His heart. His life.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I laugh—a shaky, breathless sound. "Yes, I'd love to marry you."

Archer grins, standing and pulling me into his arms before I can even catch my breath. His lips crash down on mine, fierce and desperate, like he's been holding onto this moment for too long. I kiss him back with everything I have, my arms winding around his neck as the world falls away, leaving only him.

Before I know it, we're sinking down onto the soft spring grass by the lake, his body pressing against mine, his hands roaming over my skin with a kind of urgency that leaves me dizzy. The cold air bites at my cheeks, but I barely feel it. All I can focus on is him—the heat of his skin, the strength of his arms around me, the way his lips move against mine, claiming me in a way that feels deeper than any kiss we've shared before.

April snowflakes begin to fall, light and delicate, but neither of us notices. The world could be falling apart, and I wouldn't care, not with the way Archer's touch sets me on fire.

His hands slide under my shirt, his fingers grazing my bare skin, and I gasp, arching into him. "Archer…"

"God, Bella," he murmurs, his voice thick with need as his lips trail down my neck, "I need you. Always."

I shiver, but it has nothing to do with the cold. "I'm yours," I whisper back, my voice trembling but my heart steady. "Always."

Everything about Archer astounds me. He moves with a confidence that draws me in, making me feel both safe and electrified. His presence, the way his hands skim over me, and the way he looks at me like I'm the only thing that matters—it makes my heart race and my body hum with anticipation.

"Thank you for such a wonderful picnic," I murmur, even though we didn't even get a chance to eat yet.

He doesn't say anything, but the way his hand tightens around mine, how he pulls me closer, tells me everything I need to know. With him is exactly where I'm supposed to be.

His soft sigh against my mouth, the way he kisses me back so tenderly, sets my nerves on fire. My body melts into his, and I feel the cool air against my skin as he trails his hand across my shoulders, pushing my hair to one side.

His eyes meet mine, glistening in the soft light, and that smile—God, that smile. It's the smile that makes me feel like I'm the only woman in the world. He kisses me again, and everything inside me ignites. I lose myself in the way his lips move against mine, in the warmth of his hands that explore my body, pulling me deeper into him.

Before I know it, our lips are devouring every inch of skin we can find. His hands slip beneath the simple dress I'd chosen today, just for him. His touch is urgent, but it's filled with something more—something that makes my heart race faster.

"Archer," I breathe, his name falling from my lips as if it's the only word that matters. I work at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin, to close the space between us. As soon as my fingers find the warm, hard plane of his chest, I can't stop. I need him—now.

"Hurry," I plead, my voice a desperate whisper as I lie back, my hair wild beneath me on the cool grass. My heart is pounding, and every inch of me is aching for him. "I want you, Archer."

He groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest, sending a shiver through me. "So sweet," he whispers, kissing a snowflake from my nose and finally pulling his zipper down. When I reach for him, my hand wrapping around his hard length, the feel of him makes my breath catch. I can see the hunger in his eyes, the raw need that mirrors my own.

I can't help myself. I take him in my hand, stroking, teasing, and it's as if I've unlocked something primal inside him. His head tilts back, his hands fisting in my hair as he pants my name. But before I can go any further, he pulls me away, groaning with restraint.

"Bella," he pants, his voice tight with control. He gently pushes me back onto the grass, his hands smoothing over my thighs, spreading me open beneath him. His eyes are dark with desire, but there's something else there too—reverence. He wants to savor this moment, to make it last.

He kisses his way down my body, slowly pulling my dress higher, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When he reaches my panties, he pauses, his breath hot against my skin as he looks up at me with a glint in his eye.

"Jesus, you're stunning," he murmurs, and the way he says it makes my heart flip. His hands slide the fabric down my legs, and I can barely breathe as he lowers himself between my thighs, his mouth hovering over my most sensitive spot.

The first stroke of his tongue makes my entire body jolt. My back arches, and my fingers dig into the grass as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. He doesn't let up, his tongue lapping at me, teasing, as his fingers work their way inside, stretching me, preparing me for him.

"Archer," I cry out, my voice ragged with need. I can't think, I can't speak—all I can do is feel him. His mouth, his fingers—it's too much, too good, and when he sucks on my clit, I come apart with a violent shudder, my thighs trembling around him.

He doesn't stop, not even as my body convulses beneath him. His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as his tongue continues its assault, drawing out every last bit of pleasure he can.

"So fucking delicious," he mutters as he crawls back up my body, his mouth finding mine again. The taste of me on his lips sends another surge of heat through me, and I pull him closer, desperate to feel him inside me. I need him.

"Bella," he groans, his voice thick with lust. "I want you. Now."

"I want you too," I whisper, my fingers threading through his hair as I kiss him again. "Please, Archer."

With one slow, deliberate motion, he lines himself up at my pussy, teasing me, drawing out the anticipation. I can feel the tip of him brushing against my soaked folds, and I bite my lip, my entire body trembling with need.

"I can't wait to be buried inside you," he whispers in my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

"I'm ready," I say, my voice soft but steady. But I can't hide the nervous flutter in my chest.

"Hey, beautiful, look at me," he whispers, his fingers gently pushing my hair back from my face. His eyes lock with mine, and for the first time since he proposed, I feel calm. "I've waited for you, for this."

His words wash over me like a soothing balm, calming my nerves, reassuring me. He kisses me again, slower this time, and as he begins to slide inside me, I can feel every inch of him, filling me, claiming me. My breath catches in my throat, and I gasp, my body stretching to accommodate him, but there's no pain—only pleasure.

Time seems to stop as we move together, his body fitting perfectly against mine, the cool breeze whispering through the trees. I close my eyes, losing myself in the feel of him, the warmth of his skin, the way he fills me so completely.

This is everything.

The heat of his body against mine, the way his hands possess me, the sound of my name on his lips—it's everything. More than I ever imagined.

I've never felt so alive, so completely consumed by someone, but with Archer, it's not just physical. It's something deeper, something I can't even put into words.

With slow and measured strokes, as if he's savoring the feel of me, he murmurs his love and then releases for long moments inside of me. When it's over, we lie tangled together in the grass, the lake still and quiet beside us, the snow falling softly around us like a blanket. The snowflakes melt as soon as they touch our heated skin, as if we're on fire for each other. My heart is still racing, my body humming with the aftershocks of our lovemaking, but more than that, there's a sense of peace settling over me. A sense of knowing that this—this man, this life—is everything I've ever wanted. Something in me senses that I was called to Copper Mountain–that I was meant to be here, with him.

Archer turns his head, his lips brushing softly against my forehead. "You really said yes."

I laugh, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I really did."

He pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around me, his voice a low murmur in my ear. "I'm never letting you go."

And I know, without a doubt, that he means it.