“And a space heater.” She shivered as a draft found its way through the cabin walls. “And coffee. Lots of coffee.”
He chuckled, the sound rumbling beneath her ear. “High maintenance.”
“You love it.” She propped herself up on one elbow to see his face. In the fading light, his features were softer, more open than they’d been when she first arrived at Valor Ridge.
“I do.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch achingly gentle. “Love you.”
The words still made her heart skip. “Love you, too.”
She settled back against him, her mind already racing ahead, picturing the changes they’d make, the life they’d build here. And suddenly, with perfect clarity, she knew what her first HDN project would be.
“Anson.” She sat up fully, ignoring the cold air against her bare skin. “I know what I want to do this season on.”
He raised an eyebrow, waiting.
“This.” She gestured around at the cabin. “Us. Renovating this place. Turning it into our home.”
He went still beneath her, his expression unreadable in the dim light. For a terrible moment, she thought she’d overstepped, assumed too much.
“You want to put our home on TV?” he asked finally, his voice carefully neutral. “All of it?”
“Not all of it. Just the renovation. The building process. Showing people how to take something abandoned and make it beautiful again. How to see the potential in broken things.”
He was quiet for so long that her stomach knotted with anxiety. Then, slowly, he sat up, pulling her into his lap, skin to skin. “You really think people would care about that? About this place?”
“I do.” She cupped his face in her hands, feeling the scratch of his beard against her palms. “People connect with real stories, Anson. Not staged flips or perfect before-and-afters. Real challenges. Real solutions. Real lives.”
“Real scars,” he said quietly, and she knew he meant more than the ones on his body.
“Real healing,” she countered. “That’s what this place represents. For both of us.”
He nodded slowly, his arms tightening around her. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She searched his face. “You’re sure?”
“No,” he admitted with a small smile. “But I trust you. And maybe...” He paused, looking around at the shadowed interior of what would be their home. “Maybe sharing our scars isn’t weakness after all. Maybe it’s just another kind of strength.”
She kissed him then, pouring all her love, all her certainty into the press of her lips against his. When they broke apart, the decision felt solid between them—another piece of their foundation, as real as the stones in the fireplace, as strong as the timber walls around them.
Outside, night had fallen completely. Through the dirty windows, stars pricked the black sky, impossibly bright in the crisp mountain air. Anson gathered their scattered clothes, helped her dress with the same care he’d shown undressing her. As they packed up the remains of their picnic, Maggie took one last look around the dusty cabin, seeing not what it was, but what it would become.
Their home. Their future. Their story to tell.
Together.
epilogue
Bear crushed the empty soda can in his fist and tossed it into the recycling bin across the room. Three couples, six lovesick fools with their arms wrapped around each other like they’d never let go. He should be happy for them—washappy for them—but the sight of so much domestic bliss made his skin itch. He reached for another soda, wishing for the hundredth time tonight that it was something stronger.
“Need something with more kick?” River sidled up next to him, waggling his eyebrows. “I’ve got a flask.”
“Don’t even joke about that shit.” Bear popped the tab on his Coke, the sweet fizz hitting his nose. “Eight years sober next month.”
“Right, sorry man.” River didn’t look sorry. Just bored, restless. His gaze swept the main house living room, where Walker and Johanna stood arm-in-arm by the fireplace, Nessie nestled against Jax near the windows, and Anson actually smiling—smiling—as Maggie showed off her ring to a cluster of women from town. “Feel like we’re crashing someone else’s prom, don’t you?”
“More like a wedding. Triple wedding.”
“Just missing the cake and garter toss.” River chugged his beer. “Though I bet we could convince the ladies to toss something. Maybe their?—”
