“My place is downtown,” I continue, keeping my voice even, deliberate. “Plenty of space. Guest bedrooms. You and Mason would have privacy.”
Mason lifts his head just enough to look at me. He yawns. “Is it quiet?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “Very.”
Harper studies my face, searching for something—hesitation, doubt, an escape clause. “Um?—”
If I can do this for her and make up for the past even just a little, I’m damn well going to do it. “You’ll be safe with me. I promise.” I’ll make sure of it.
HARPER
Idon’t say yes right away. And I don’t laugh in his face, either.
The words hang there between us, heavy and dangerous, like if I touch it too fast I’ll set something off I can’t stop. Mason is half-asleep against my leg, my fingers threaded through his hair, and Aiden Sloan is standing a few feet away offering me shelter like this isn’t the most reckless thing either of us could do.
Because it’s not. We’ve already done that.
Even still, every instinct I have screams no. This is Aiden. This is the man who broke my heart so cleanly that I rebuilt my entire life just to survive it. This is the man I married the wrong person to forget.
I open my mouth to refuse. I really do.
But Mason shifts, his grip tightening on my hand, his head tipping forward again. He’s past scared now. He’s exhausted. Spent. Running on fumes and trust and the belief that I’ll keep him safe because I always do.
And the truth—the ugly, logistical truth—is that I don’t have a better option.
Hotels downtown on a Friday night are expensive. The bar is closed indefinitely. Every dollar matters. Clover & Mint isn’t just my job—it’s my foundation, the thing I built with my own hands after my life imploded once already. I can’t bleed money if I don’t have to.
Roz pops over to us. “Take him somewhere to sleep. I’ll handle the paperwork.”
“You’re the best, Roz. Thank you.”
And then she’s off, chatting with the firefighters and the random patrons who stuck around.
A quiet, small voice by my thigh asks, “Mommy, can we sleep at the fireman’s house?”
I take a slow breath. “Okay.”
Aiden’s shoulders drop a fraction, relief flickering across his face before he schools it back into that careful neutrality he wears like armor. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t push. He just nods once, like he’s acknowledging a fact instead of doing me a huge favor.
Carlie steps closer immediately, lowering her voice. “Are you sure? I mean—are yousuresure?”
I meet her gaze and lie smoothly. “He says his place is big enough for us, and we could use some space to process all of this.”
She doesn’t look convinced. But she nods anyway, because she’s always trusted me to know my limits—even when I don’t. “His place is ridiculously huge. Totally sterile, but huge.”
“Honestly, that sounds perfect.” I suck in a breath and look up at Aiden. “Lead the way.”
The drive downtown is quiet in a way that presses on my ears.
I drive as Aiden gives me instructions on how to get there. We stop at the firehouse so he can change and get his car, and then I follow him. Mason chatters sleepily from the backseat,asking questions about fire trucks and whether I think Aiden has a dog and if penthouses are better than regular houses.
When we follow into the underground garage, I’m hyperaware of everything. My stomach flips. This is really happening.
Aiden directs me to a guest spot, and I pull in there, watching the lines as much as I’m watching his face. I pretend not to notice the tension in his shoulders when he calls the elevator. And as the doors slide closed behind us, sealing us into this choice, I realize with a jolt of fear and clarity that saying yes might be the most dangerous thing I’ve done since that night in Hocking Hills.
That electric zap between us is still there. The inability to look away. The longing to feel his body heat penetrate?—
This elevator ride is longer than it should be.I force myself to snap out of it, but only just. I pretend I can’t smell his cologne over the smoke on my clothes. I ignore the new scar on the back of his right hand, even though I am dying to know how it got there.
