The mountain, the trees—they’re all slowly disappearing in the distance as the storm moves closer and closer.
It’s breathtaking in the most frightening way possible to see just how fast things can change.
This morning had been magnificent, with stunning blue skies that made the snow and the pools we visited sparkle magically and glitter like glass. Even Victoria had been tolerable, her more holier than thou attitude softened by the way she spoke about the town and its history.
The passion in her voice was genuine and I couldn’t help but be sucked in, wanting to hear more.
She loves Hallowed Springs.
This town is her life—her reason for breathing.
Which is why I’m not surprised at the way she usually looks at Grizz and the club. In her mind, they taint her vision of how things should be and have always been, but surely if she just opens her eyes a little, she could realize how much value they add to this place.
And if she opens them a little wider, she might also see how much value her daughter adds to.
“Brynn?”
I whip my head around, startled by Grizz’s voice.
“Sorry,” I say, pressing a hand to my racing heart. “I was lost in the clouds.”
He nods toward the sky, narrowing his eyes. “Yeah, there’s something heavy coming in. One of the boys from the fire station mentioned they’ve been tracking it on the comms. Hopefully it will run out of steam, but we need to get inside and get everything locked down just in case.”
I follow his lead, leaping out of the truck.
Even in the few minutes it took to get from The Gallows to Grizz’s cabin, the temperature had dropped dramatically. Small gusts of wind whip at my hair, bringing with them the lingering smell of smoke that I’m sure is going to take days to wash away.
Grizz beats me to the back door of the truck, placing his hand on the handle. “Jon Bon’s asleep,” he announces, peering through the window. “I’ll carry her in and put her on the bed.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Wasn’t asking.” He already has the door open, scooping Jovie up and cradling her in his arms as if she weighs nothing at all—and I’ve tried to carry this kid myself.
My heart thuds harder inside my chest as I watch him carry her effortlessly up the porch steps, her soot-streaked face tucked into his shoulder. She doesn’t stir, doesn’t flinch. Not even when he shuffles her to reach for the front door.
That’s how comfortable she is with him, and I can’t say that about many people.
My kid is like a radar for bad intentions.
Her instincts are sharp—sharper than most adults I know.
Jovie likes who she likes, and stays away from those she doesn’t, and the way Grizz has connected with her since the moment we met… there’s something so special about that.
There’s something deeply intimate about watching someone else care for your child—to see someone go out of their way to protect the most important person in your world.
When they don’t have to.
Swallowing back my racing thoughts, I grab mine and Jovie’s things—the few we could salvage—and hurry into the cabin behind them. Being in Grizz’s space for the second day in a row brings a smile to my lips, my eyes floating toward the small kitchen counter. I swear I could feel him for hours after I left, his hands on my thighs, the way he spread them and pressed his hips forward.
“Jesus,” I whisper, pressing my lips together and turning away, forcing myself to move across to the fireplace. To a place that didn’t have any little memories attached to it.
Yet.
I’m going to hell.
A handful of embers glow in the bottom of the old fireplace, just enough to hit my face with some heat—at least that’s what I’ll say if he asks.
Sure, it’s the warmth from the fire, not my entire body burning up at the thought of Grizz’s hands on my body, or the smell of cedar and leather in the air. And it’s especially not the sight of him stripping his shirt over his head as he steps silently out of the bedroom and pulls the door closed behind him.
