Page 71 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
In the month that had passed since Sabrina and I had started having sex, I’d learned one thing for certain.
I was fucked.
For every minute we spent together, I wanted ten more. And the sex? Fuck me. We connected on every level that existed.
So, yeah. I. Was. Fucked.
I didn’t want her for right now. I wanted her for always.
I wanted what I’d never have.
“She’s leaving,” I reminded myself, something I did about a hundred times a day.
“Who? Sabrina?” Michael said, sliding into my booth at the café.
Shit. “Uh, yeah.” He had left for the bathroom but there must have been a line. Now that he’d overheard a comment intended for my ears only, there would be no avoiding the Sabrina subject.
“You should get her a job here,” Michael said. “She’s awesome and then you two can keep dating.”
Dating. Did walks in the meadow and dinners on the outpost floor count as dates? I’d never taken her to a nice dinner or a movie. Hell, I’d never taken her out in public. Were we dating? Regardless of the label, it was the best time I’d ever had with a woman, which made the fact that we had an expiration date really fucking depressing.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I told Michael. “She’s from the city and I don’t think Montana is where she wants to live.”
“Have you asked her?”
“No.” Why would I ask a question when I already knew the answer?
“You should.” He unrolled his silverware from the white napkin, oblivious to the pain in my chest. Michael had completely taken to Sabrina after his visit to the outpost during the forest fire and I wasn’t surprised he was pushing for her to stay. He had this look in his eyes every time he talked about her that said please make her my sister-in-law.
We needed to be done talking about Sabrina. Things were better at the outpost when I was with her. Back in Prescott, that’s when the reality of our situation really sank in and left me feeling miserable.
Talking about it wasn’t therapeutic. It just made things worse.
“So how’s everything at the station going?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Good. Busy.” Michael spent the next thirty minutes giving me an update on his job. When our lunches arrived, we ate quietly and I let my thoughts wander back to Sabrina.
She’s leaving.
She’s made for bigger and better things than a simple life with me.
She doesn’t belong in Montana.
Now there was a total lie. Sabrina had professed her hatred of nature and all things outdoors, but she’d taken to it better than most women who had grown up in this area. She couldn’t hide her love for the outpost. She was the happiest when we were strolling through her grassy meadow. And she’d looked like she was made to sit on the rocks when we’d hiked up to the waterfall.
She belonged.
Maybe if I could keep her in Montana long enough, she’d see that for herself.
Sabrina
The days were flying by.
It was the middle of August and summer was nearly over. I had been at the outpost for over four months and was as happy and relaxed as I had been in my entire adult life.
My enjoyment from writing, the peaceful environment and my budding relationship with Beau had created the perfect balance of contentment and excitement.
Beau and I had fallen into our best routine yet. He worked in Prescott during the week while I was writing, then he’d spend the weekends with me at the outpost, where we were basically having sex like rock stars. The few times we’d forced ourselves apart, Beau had guided me on short hikes or made me practice my self-defense.
