And inside, for the moment at least, I’m warm. Sheltered. Safe behind locked gates and thick walls and the quiet presenceof a man who saw me stranded and decided I wasn’t going to face it alone.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and sink my fingers deeper into Bear’s fur.
Maybe running brought me exactly where I was supposed to be.
Chapter Six
CALDER
The first thingI do after shutting the door against the storm is head for the kitchen.
Wren hovers near the edge of the living room like she’s not sure what she’s allowed to touch. Bear plants himself at her feet like a furry guard tower, leaning his full weight into her leg. She doesn’t seem to mind. Her fingers keep drifting down to his head, stroking absentmindedly.
Good. He already likes her. That says something.
I fill the kettle and set it on the stove. The familiar routine settles my nerves. Outside, the wind picks up, rattling the windows. Snow slaps against the glass in thick bursts.
“You take cream or sugar?” I ask.
She looks up, surprised. “What?”
“In your coffee,” I say. “How do you take it?”
Her mouth curves into a small smile. It’s tired but real. “Black is fine.”
I pour two mugs when the kettle whistles, the rich smell of coffee filling the kitchen. I carry one over and hold it out to her.
She wraps both hands around it immediately, like she’s absorbing the heat straight into her bones. Her smile widens just a little.
“What?” I ask.
She glances up at me over the rim of the mug. “It’s just… kind of funny.”
“What is?”
“Usually I’m the one bringing you coffee,” she says softly. “At the diner.”
A quiet huff of amusement leaves me. “Guess it’s my turn.”
Color touches her cheeks. She takes a careful sip, eyes closing for half a second. The sight does something low in my chest. She looks like she’s been running on fumes and someone finally handed her a moment to breathe.
I grab a blanket from the back of the couch. It’s worn soft from years of use but clean and warm. I drape it over her shoulders without thinking too hard about it.
She startles slightly, then relaxes as the fabric settles around her. “Thank you,” she murmurs.
“Sit,” I tell her, nodding toward the couch. “Warm up.”
She obeys without argument, tucking her legs under herself and pulling the blanket tight. Bear circles once before dropping at her feet with a heavy sigh.
I kneel in front of the fireplace and start building the fire higher. The logs catch quickly, flames licking up and throwing golden light across the room. Heat blooms outward, chasing away the last of the chill clinging to the air.
I can feel her eyes on me while I work.
It’s not uncomfortable. Just… aware.
I glance over my shoulder and catch her watching openly. Her gaze flicks away for a second, then returns, curious and unguarded in a way I haven’t seen from her before.
“What?” I ask again.
