“You good?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says softly. “But I want to tell you something first.”
I nod immediately.
Truth is, I’ve been waiting for this.
Waiting for her to trust me enough to open that door. I keep my stance loose, my hands at my sides, but inside I’m wound tight as a steel cable.
“I want to tell you about how I ended up here,” she says.
“In my house?” I ask lightly, trying to keep it easy for her.
She laughs, a little shaky.
“Yes, well. That too. But first—Maine.”
I nod, not wanting to do anything to make her stop.
CHAPTER 36
WILLOW
It’s truth time, and I don’t know if I’m brave enough.
But I think it’s time I find out.
Because I can’t deny it—this pull between us.
It’s not just about heat anymore, not just about the way his hands make my body sing or how his voice sinks into my bones like warm honey.
It’s deeper now.
Scarier, too.
I’m sitting on his couch, wrapped in one of his throw blankets now that still smells like cedar and woodsmoke, and he’s only a little bit away—but my heart is pounding like I’m about to leap off a cliff.
He’s watching me.
Not pressuring. Not prodding.
Just waiting.
And that somehow makes it worse.
He always makes me feel safe, like nothing I could say would shake him. Like there’s no version of me that would make him run.
But what if I’m wrong?
What if I finally say the words and the spell breaks and he sees me the way I’ve always feared people would?
Damaged. Pathetic.
A woman who let herself get swallowed up and worn down by someone who never loved her right.
I clench the edge of the blanket tighter in my fists and glance at him—at this beautiful, strong, impossibly steady man who’s made me feel more wanted in one month than I have my entire life.
His brow furrows, just slightly. Concern, not frustration.
