Again… and again… and again.
CHAPTER 10
Six months later.
The cabin has become home.
Not officially, I still keep my apartment in town for when I need to film or meet with the book club. But most nights, I'm here. In Ty's space. In our space.
The threat that brought us together is long resolved. The investigation wrapped quietly, the bad guys are wherever bad guys go when the CIA is done with them, and my accidental footage ended up being a crucial piece of evidence that I'll never be allowed to talk about.
Ty got a commendation. And when I break the rules? I get a very stern lecture that ends with him bending me over and reminding me why rules exist.
Worth it.
My content has changed. Evolved. I'm more intentional now about what I share and what I keep private. My engagement is actually better, turns out people respond to authenticity more than they respond to constant availability.
Who knew.
The book club is thriving. We’re planning Holly’s wedding and I’ve been helping Amber with her podcast about healthy relationship dynamics.
And me? I'm learning what it means to be loved well.
This morning, I wake to snow falling outside the bedroom window and Ty's arm heavy across my waist. He's already awake—I can tell by his breathing—but he's letting me ease into consciousness instead of rushing me.
“Morning,” I mumble.
“Morning, sweetheart.” He kisses my shoulder. “How'd you sleep?”
“Good. Really good. But I always sleep good when I’m in your arms.”
He rolls me onto my back, settling between my thighs like that's where he belongs. Because it is.
“I have something for you,” he says.
I arch an eyebrow. “Is it what I think it is?” I laugh.
“Depends on what you think it is.”
I reach down between us and he catches my wrist with a laugh. “Not that. Not yet.” He reaches for the nightstand and pulls out a small box.
My heart stutters. “Ty—” So help me God if that man proposes to me while I have bedhead and morning breath…
“Relax. It's not that either.” He opens it, revealing a delicate silver bracelet. Thin, elegant, with a small charm dangling from it.
I sit up, taking it carefully. The charm is engraved with coordinates.
“Where we met,” he says quietly. “Where everything started.”
I flip it over. The inside of the band has three words: Chosen. Safe. Mine.
My throat tightens. “Ty, this is?—"
“A promise.” He takes it from me and fastens it around my wrist. “That I see you. That I'll keep showing up. That what we have isn't just physical, it's real.”
I launch myself at him, kissing him hard, and he catches me with a laugh.
“I take it you like it?”
