“Hey.” Holden looked up, and his face did that thing, the softening, the warmth I was still getting used to being allowed to see. “You're up.”
“Smelled coffee.”
“Counter.” He crossed the room, and before I could reach for a mug, his hands were on my face, tilting it up, and he was kissing me. Slow and thorough, like we had all the time in the world.
When he pulled back, I was breathless.
“Good morning to you too,” I managed.
“I slept better last night than I have in months.” His thumbs traced my cheekbones. “Wanted you to know.”
“Yeah?” I looked around. “How long have you been up?”
“Long enough to put all the final touches on the delicate stuff. I think we're good to go.” He kissed me again, quick this time, then stepped back. “Flowers need to be at the lodge by eleven. We've got time to walk the girls and grab breakfast first, if you want.”
“Copper Kettle?”
“Unless you'd rather make something here.”
“Copper Kettle it is.” I reached for the coffee he'd gotten for me, cream and sugar already added, because he loved me.
We walked the dogs through the quiet Sunday streets, Marceline straining at her leash to investigate every interesting smell, Bubblegum trotting at my side with her usual dignity. The February air was cold but not bitter, the sky that particular shade of winter blue that made the mountains look close enough to touch.
Holden's hand found mine somewhere around the second block.
We didn't talk much. Didn't need to. Just walked together through the town that was starting to feel like mine, the dogs leading the way, our breath fogging in the cold.
The Copper Kettle was half-full when we pushed through the door: Sunday morning regulars, a few families, someone reading the paper in the corner booth. Mags looked up from the register, saw us, and grinned.
“Good morning, boys,” she said. “Breakfast special this morning is banana pancakes.”
We took the corner booth. The dogs settled under the table, Marceline's chin on my foot, Bubblegum pressed against Holden's ankle. Mags brought coffee and menus.
“You two look relaxed,” she said. “Got some sleep after your busy day?”
“Something like that,” Holden said, and gave me a soft smile.
“Mm-hmm.” She glanced between the two of us, something knowing in her expression, and tucked her tray under her arm. “Take your time. Sunday's slow.”
We ordered—eggs and bacon for me, banana pancakes for Holden.” The food was good, the coffee was better, and every time I looked up, Holden was watching me with an expression that made my chest tight.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Just… this. It's good.”
“Yeah.” I reached across the table, covered his hand with mine. “It is.”
After breakfast, I dropped the dogs at my house while Holden went back to pack the delivery van. Marceline protested the abandonment with a series of pointed looks, but Bubblegum was already claiming her spot on the couch by the time I closed the door.
The drive up the mountain took twenty minutes, the road winding through stands of pine dusted with last night's snow. I'd made this trip once before, picking up the dogs from Landon here, before we agreed on neutral territory for the dog switches.
Today felt different. Holden's hand rested on my thigh, warm and steady, and the van smelled like roses and eucalyptus. I wasn't going to see Landon. He was in Cabo, on a beach somewhere, and I was here with the man I loved, delivering wedding flowers to a lodge that just happened to belong to my ex's family.
Still. When the lodge came into view, that massive timber structure with its steeply pitched roof and walls of windows reflecting the snow-capped peaks, it suddenly felt hard to breathe.
“You okay?” Holden's hand squeezed my thigh.
“Yeah.” I forced myself to take a breath. “It's just weird, being here. Landon's not around, but this is still his family's place. I keep expecting to turn a corner and run into his mother.”
