foothold.” At her WTF face, he laughed a little and explained. “Then follow it—the road, again, head down the mountain. That means when you hit the road from here, go left, and you’ll eventually reach the town.”
“I’d prefer for that sentence to be we’ll eventually reach the town,” Tasha had told him.
His hands were warm against the side of her face as he kissed her again, then briefly rested his forehead against hers. “That’s our Plan A.”
And so here she was, alone under another pile of brush, hoping with all of her heart that the intimacy they’d shared over the past few days, culminating in this morning’s astonishingly epic love-making, was the beginning of their story, not the end.
Tasha still couldn’t quite believe it had finally happened. She and Thomas. Together.
And she also couldn’t quite believe that, even though she’d been nearly dizzy with desire, she’d tried to talk him out of it. Thinking about that still made her smile.
And maybe she was weird. To love that her memory of their first time included what Thomas had rightly called a debate. Stopping to debate during sex wasn’t traditionally romantic, that much was true. But to Tasha it had set the stage for passion that had been beyond perfection.
Because she hadn’t made love to him with a small voice sounding off in her head, wondering insistently if this was a terrible mistake. She hadn’t surrendered to Thomas’s kisses doubting in the slightest that he truly wanted her, wondering if he was just taking the path of least resistance—if the pressure he was feeling was truly from honest emotion and genuine, heartfelt desire. She hadn’t gasped his name as the world exploded around her while part of her remained apart and worried that he was uneasy or uncomfortable with this abrupt and massive change to their relationship.
And even now, in this odd period of aftermath, when they should’ve still been sleeping with their limbs entangled and bodies spooned together, waking only to whisper reassuring words of love, but were instead running and hiding for their lives, Tasha wasn’t wondering if she’d pushed Thomas too hard, too fast.
Because they’d discussed all that up front. Well, more like in the oops-we’re-naked-and-yup-you’re-inside-me-yikes-I-better-dismount-here’s-a-pillow middle. And setting the very permanent memory of the awkwardness of that aside, Tasha had done all of her wondering out loud, right into Thomas’s handsome face. And Thomas being Thomas, he’d listened, patiently and respectfully, and then made it clear that they were, without a doubt, in total agreement.
At which point, she’d released her anxieties and inhibitions, and allowed herself to love him, completely, with her body, heart, and soul.
And God, the way he’d smiled as they’d moved together. And God, the heat and love she’d seen in his eyes...
And when she came—when he came, too—as the world fell apart around them, she’d felt such joy and pleasure. But then, the way he’d sighed, after, as he held her... It was a sigh of such complete contentment. A sigh that she felt, too, with every cell of her being. A sigh that said, I’m finally home.
They would make it down the mountain. Tasha closed her eyes and made herself believe in that, completely. They would make it. This was the beginning of a long, long story that had started years ago. There were chapters upon chapters yet to come.
She would do anything to write that book.
And she knew that Thomas was on the same page.
It took Thomas far longer than he’d hoped to confirm their location.
The tunnel had curved in its seemingly endless path, putting them far from the main entrance to the bomb shelter. They were, in fact, where he’d guessed they’d be—on the opposite side of the mountain from the airfield and the town.
That wasn’t great. It meant more time, more miles in the frozen woods, as they gave a wide berth to the shelter’s entrance where the hostiles were now encamped.
What was great was that his internal map was right. They weren’t too far from a road.
As far as Thomas could tell, it was dirt and gravel—not much more than a single car width—running past the back perimeter of the ski lodge. They’d have to hop a fence to access it, but once they did, their travel would be less arduous. It would be much easier for Tasha to walk for miles on a road than to crash through the underbrush in the woods.
They’d be harder to track on that road, too.
Of course, it’d be easier for the hostiles