The North Star | COMPLETED ✔️

Chapter 45~ Bliss

Another! Wow! I'm on fire!

Chapter 45

"Here it is," he said, his tone light. He rushed through the trees, and I fought to catch up.

The woods cleared to reveal a field. Yellow flowers grew wild and stretched on for what felt like miles before the trees cut them off again.

Bard ran out into it and spun around to face me. His smile blinding. His arms extended out at his sides.

My lips parted. Not just at the natural beauty, which would have been enough, but at the sight of him standing amidst it, looking so carefree, so infectious.

Im falling.

"What do you think?" He spun a circle, then stood and let his gaze roam over the view. His shoulders lifted on a heavy breath, his stance that of a man at peace.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat. "It's beautiful."

Bard cut a look over at me, and his gaze softened. "I'm sorry," he said. "Is this too much? Too good?" His lip twitched.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "No. No. It's perfect." I stepped further into the field and plopped down to rest my aching legs. "I hate yellow."

He laughed, big and loud. It echoed out in the open space and sent a shiver across my skin. Next thing I knew, he bounded over and dropped into the space beside me. He stretched out onto his back, hands behind his head, eyes fixed onto the clear blue sky. His chest rose and fell as if he'd ran a mile, and his smile was wide, eyes clear. "I feel like I can breathe, Tequila."

Probably because you stole mine.

He flipped over to his stomach and looked up at me. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving!" I blew out a breath. "It feels like we walked for hours."

"We did." He pushed himself up from the ground and extended a hand. "C'mon. Let's catch lunch."

"Catch?" I let him pull me to my feet then dusted the back of my jeans.

Bard winked and walked off towards the trees.

I followed his steps, and as we reentered the wood on the opposite side, water burbled in the distance.

Bard reached back and grabbed my hand without turning to look at me, then pulled me the final stretch.

A creek weaved it's way between the trees and cut off our path.

Bard turned and grinned at me. "This connects to the river just East of here, and it's just deep enough for decent fish to swim in." The whole time he spoke, he busied himself with yanking off his boots.

I furrowed my brow at him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to catch some."

"But you don't have a pole."

Bard's grin widened. "Don't need one. Just watch." He waded out, jeans and all, until the water reached his thighs, then stared down into the water.

The world fell quiet as he focused. Just the sounds of water. The occasional chirp of a bird. The rustle of wind through leaves, then splash!

Bard jammed his hand into the water and pulled out a fish as long as his forearm by the mouth. He smiled that blinding smile. "I've still got it." His voice was deep and smooth, richer than before, as if the mountain air had somehow made him healthier. "Hope you like trout, Tequila." He tossed it onto the bank where it flopped, then focused his attention back on the water.

I watched him go, one after the other, until four fish sat in various stages of panic on the rocks in front of me.

Bard waded out and gathered them all, two in each hand held by two fingers through a gill.

My nose scrunched. "You'll cook them, right? And... remove the heads? I don't want them looking at me."

Bard rumbled a laugh. "Yes, Tequila. I'll take off the heads and cook them." He paused and looked down at me as he passed. "I'll even take the guts out."

"Eww."

His chest rumbled again as he started back for the field. I followed his steps, then watched him grab a knife from the pack, skin the scales off the poor creatures, split them open, and cut off their heads. It was gross, but I didn't say so. I'd been hungry enough before it wasn't a skill I was adverse to learning. So I paid attention as he finished them up, laid them across a pan and retreated back into the wood to collect sticks and old pieces of wood.

He built a pile in the center of the field, lined it with moss, and used some special rock from his pack to spark it to life.

"You're good at this," I said once he placed the pan over the flames and sat down.

His lip twitched. "Too good?"

I grinned. "No. This I'm okay with."

Bard's eyes shot to mine and cut. He was back to reading me. Searching. "You regret last night?"

It took me a long, drawn out moment to respond. "I don't, but..."

Bard nodded, and his focus went back to the sizzling fish. "You're scared."

I clamped my mouth shut, unable to deny it. I wasn't just scared. I was fucking terrified.

"I'd prefer to keep it casual."

Bard didn't respond. He stared at the flames, idly flipped the fillets. It wasn't until he pulled the pan off the fire that he finally spoke. "How about we just don't overthink it?"

I met his gaze. "Not thinking never did me any favors."

"And overthinking did?"

I focused back on the flames.

Bard grabbed the pan and circled the fire, then dropped down to the spot beside me and worked a bite onto the fork. "Try it."

I turned to look at him. Soft smile. Open expression. The light had dimmed and the glow of the flames accentuated the angles of his face.

Too damn good looking.

I leaned forward and took the offering, then groaned at the flavor. I lifted a hand to my mouth. It melted like butter and had the same richness. "That's really good."

"See? Now, if you'd thought about what it looked like earlier, you wouldn't have tried it." His gaze bore into mine, face more serious.

I rolled my eyes and finished chewing. "What are you trying to say, Bard?"

His lip twitched. "It's okay to have good fish."

I snorted, then barked a laugh. "Are you really going to use this fish as a metaphor for why I should accept your–too good–sex?"

He didn't look ashamed. "And other things."

I shook my head. He was something else. Too damn good at talking, and too damn good at reading what the fuck I was thinking. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like being happy." His eyes met mine, softer than before. "It's okay to let yourself be happy."

Really happy, inner Jessie sang, once again sticking her big fat nose where it wasn't wanted.

I don't stand a chance.

I snatched the fork from his hand, cut away a bite, then pointedly stuffed it into my mouth and chewed. "What if I decide I don't want fish?"

He watched me with an amused expression. "Then I'll just pack you a sandwich next time."

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