The Girl in the Mist (Misted Pines 1)

I relaxed.

“There’s a new tree, up on the lookout,” he noted.

Oh, and I’d learned that.

I might not be doing cardio, as such. But when Bohannan wasn’t hunting criminals, he ran, and now, I hiked.

He’d run on trails through his trees on his domain, and I’d hike while he’d run.

Of course he’d run a lot farther than I’d hike, but we’d made it up to the lookout, which was an outcropping of rock, a steady uphill climb from the log cabin that had an amazing view of the lake and the town of Misted Pines.

It was his favorite spot on the land.

The sitting room was mine, but that was a close second.

“Two of them, just that one of them was planted last October,” he carried on.

“What are you talking about?”

“Two red cedars,” he said. “Slow growing, but if nothing happens to them, they could be there forever.”

I decided to just listen to his story. He always got to the point eventually.

“Jess put his up there alone. All three of us went up there when I planted Malorie’s.”

At that, I caught my breath.

“Your pumpkin pieces, those are under Alice’s tree. I got some bits of cardboard from the recycle locker in the city, that’s under Malorie’s. Now, those two girls will be up there long after we’re gone. And they’ll always have the best view all-around of Misted Pines.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“Jess is fine, baby,” he said softly.

“Okay,” I replied, and from what he just shared, I knew he was.

Bohannan noted I knew it, turned his attention to finishing with the spices, put the lid back on the Crockpot and then came back to me.

“I wanna show you something,” he said.

He reached a hand to me.

I went to him and took it.

He led me to our bedroom.

I’d been hungry for enchiladas.

Now I wasn’t.

He left me at the bed and went to the closet.

He came out with a big box.

And now I was confused.

It was a sturdy brown box, the kind you mail stuff in.

The flaps at the top were loose, though. He’d already cut through the tape.

And therefore, when he made it to the bed beside me, and upended it, all the glory that was inside tumbled in a pile on the bed.

Bohannan reached to it and started tossing things out so I could see everything.

And there as a good deal of everything.

When it was all laid out like a smorgasbord of deliciousness, he straightened and turned to me.

“See anything interesting?”

My gaze drifted back to the bed.

There was the gamut starting from the tame, like silk scarves and blindfolds, and the moderately naughty, like fur-lined handcuffs and feathers, to the hardcore goodness, like paddles, bondage rope, beads, rings, eggs and plugs.

Considering how sensational was The Twisted Tale of The Wives, Husbands and Madmen of Misted Pines, the small fact that my car had been found outside a sex shop had been a footnote that garnered so little attention, if it had any, I didn’t notice it.

The fact Ray Andrews was five thousand shades of fucked up was picked over ad nauseum.

This was so huge, the fact that I, and that I was me, Delphine Larue, was one of his victims was a sidenote.

Jace and Jess studiously avoided any mention that my Volvo had to be driven back from The Joy of Joy that day.

Until now, Bohannan had also not mentioned it.

I honestly hadn’t thought of it because I didn’t need to. What we had in bed was awesome from the beginning, and that hadn’t changed (though island sex was a shade more awesome, as vacation sex was wont to be).

That didn’t mean it couldn’t get better.

“Are you deciding?” Bohannan prompted.

I tore my eyes away from hours…nay days…nay years of fun and looked up at him.

“I’m spoiled for choice.”

“Let me help,” he said. “You do me first, and you get to pick two things.”

My entire body started buzzing.

I knew exactly.

I turned to the bed, picked my two things and put them in front of him.

There was no neutral when I looked back up at him.

It was one of my favorite looks of all.

His eyes were dark and hungry.

“I really love you,” I told him.

That was when he gave me the favorite look of all.

Showing unhidden he felt exactly the same.

One thing I learned after being hunted through the woods, pursued by a supremely narcissistic maniac.

It was the miracle cure for an addiction to the high of the thrill of the pursuit.

Though, upon reflection, that hadn’t been my issue.

My issue was, I got together with Bohannan in the middle of some serious crazy, and when all that was over, part of me was worried that a different thrill would be gone.