Ivy woke slowly,awareness spreading through her body like honey—warm and sweet. Sunlight filtered through the cabin’s small windows, painting stripes of gold across the quilt that covered her. She stretched languidly; her body pleasantly sore in ways that brought memories of the night flooding back. Henry’s touch, his mouth on her sex, the way he’d watched her with such reverence as she came apart beneath him. A delicious shiver ran through her at the memory.
She turned her head, finding the space beside her empty but still warm. Her ears caught the quiet sounds of movement in the main room—the soft clink of cups, water running, the subtle creak of floorboards.
Ivy slid from the bed, picking up Henry’s discarded flannel shirt from the floor and slipping it on. The fabric swam around her smaller frame, the sleeves falling past her fingertips until she rolled them back. The shirt carried his scent—pine and earth—and wearing it felt as if she was wrapped in his embrace.
She twisted a section of her curls around her finger, coaxing the pattern back into place. The storm had long passed, leavingbehind a pristine morning sky visible through the bedroom window. The forest outside glistened with raindrops caught in spider webs and pine needles, everything washed clean and renewed.
Padding barefoot into the main room, Ivy found Henry at the small stove, his back to her as he carefully measured coffee grounds into a battered percolator. He wore only jeans, his broad back and shoulders bare, revealing the impressive musculature that came from years of physical work in the forest. A constellation of light scratches marked his shoulder blades. It was evidence of her passion last night, and Ivy felt a flush of heat at the sight.
“Morning,” she said.
Henry turned. His eyes traveled down her body, taking in the sight of her wearing his shirt, her bare legs, her tousled curls. Something flickered in his gaze—possessiveness mingled with uncertainty.
“Sleep okay?” he asked, his voice morning-rough.
“Better than I have in months,” Ivy replied truthfully, moving to join him at the stove. The wooden floor was cool beneath her feet, the cabin filled with morning light that somehow made everything between them feel more real than it had in the storm-shadowed night.
“I’ve arranged for my uncle Jesse to tow your SUV after the tree is cleared,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, lifting on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best.
A flush crept up his neck, and he turned away to hide it—unsuccessfully. The man who had made love to her with such confidence last night was now flustered by a simple compliment. The contradiction fascinated her.
“My father’s having the family over today,” Ivy said casually, accepting the mug of coffee Henry offered. She blew across the steaming surface before taking a sip. Perfect—strong and black, just how she liked it.
Henry’s hand froze halfway to his mouth, his entire body tensing. “Today?”
“Sunday tradition,” she confirmed, watching his reaction carefully. “Backyard barbecue, happens every week.”
“I’ve got reports due tomorrow, and there’s that northern trail I need to check?—”
“They should meet my mate,” Ivy interrupted, deliberately using the term while watching his reaction.
Henry’s eyes widened, his fingers tightening around his mug. The word hung between them, weighted with meaning beyond its single syllable. It was the first time either had used it outside the heated context of their lovemaking.
Henry set his mug down with careful precision. “Family gatherings aren’t really my thing.”
“I noticed,” Ivy said dryly. “But they’re my thing. And I’m your thing now, aren’t I?”
His expression softened at that, the beginnings of surrender visible in the slight slump of his shoulders. “I don’t do well with crowds.”
“It’s my family, not a stadium full of strangers.”
“That’s worse,” he muttered, but the fight was leaving him.
Ivy slid off the counter, approaching him slowly. She placed her hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat accelerate beneath her touch. “Please? It would mean a lot to me.” She looked up at him through her lashes, employing the full force of her sunshine personality against his grumpy resistance.
Henry gave a resigned sigh. “Two hours. Then we leave. No matter what.”
Victory bloomed in her chest, but she kept her expression appropriately solemn. “Of course. Two hours.”
She reached for her phone on the counter, quickly texting her father that she’d be bringing someone special to the gathering. Only after she’d hit send did she allow herself a private smile of triumph.
Henry’s truckbounced along the winding road leading to Corey Bright’s property. Ivy directed him with occasional gestures, watching his grumpy profile as they drew closer to their destination.
The Bright family home appeared around a final curve—a sprawling log mansion that seemed to grow organically from the mountainside. Built from massive pine logs and dark granite, it commanded a stunning view of Fate Lake below. A wraparound porch circled the entire structure, adorned with hanging plants and comfortable seating areas.
As Henry parked beside several other vehicles, Ivy could see his apprehension mounting. “They don’t bite,” she assured him, then added with a teasing smile, “Well, not on the first meeting, anyway.”
