I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure she never feels like she has to again.
Outside, the snow keeps falling. Inside, for the first time in a long time, the quiet doesn’t feel empty.
It feels like home.
Chapter 15
Jane
I wake up with my cheek pressed against Tex’s chest; the fire reduced to glowing embers in the hearth.
For a moment, I’m disoriented. Then clarity strikes.
Cabin. Havenridge. Quiet. Warmth. Tex’s arm wrapped around me as if it belongs there. As if I belong here.
My body is heavy with sleep, but my heart races, pounding with memories of last night: cow shit, humiliation, his voice in the bathroom, the towel around me, the way he spoke without flinching.
I want you exactly the way you are.
I go still, listening. His breathing is even. Slow. He’s asleep—reallyasleep—not the half-awake vigilance I’ve seen in men who never fully come down from whatever they survived. His chin rests lightly against my hair. One hand is splayed over my shoulder, warm through the thin fabric of his shirt.
It should feel safe. It does. And that’s the terrifying part because I don’t know what to do with safe when it comes from a man. The kind of safe that wraps around you and makes you stop fighting.
I shift carefully, trying not to wake him. His arm tightens reflexively, as if he’s anchoring me without opening his eyes.
“Tex,” I whisper.
His hand loosens slightly, and he exhales against the top of my head. “Mm?” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.
I tilt my face up, studying him in the firelight. The lines of his face are softened in sleep, but the strength is still there in his jaw, cheekbones, and the slight shadow of stubble that makes my fingers itch to touch him.
Everything about him feels…solid.
My stomach flips, slow and hot. Last night wasn’t just comfort or care. It was him saying, in a hundred quiet ways,I’m here. I’m not leaving. I’m not scared of you.
My heart throbs with something that feels dangerously close to devotion. My body, meanwhile, has a different agenda because I’m warm and held and half-draped across the most amazing man I’ve ever met.
I want him. All of him.
The thought is so sharp it steals my breath. I freeze, bracing for the shame to wash over me, but it doesn't come. Instead, I feel an unexpected clarity, as bright as cold air:
I’m twenty-six years old. I've spent my life in a male-dominated world, keeping this part of myself locked away, as if it were toodangerous to reveal. But Tex doesn't make me feel dangerous. He makes me feel... wanted.
Chosen.
My gaze drops to his mouth, and my pulse stumbles. I inch closer without thinking, as if gravity is stronger than sense.
Tex shifts, his eyes still closed as his hand slides up my back. His fingers spread between my shoulder blades. A claim. A steadying touch.
I hold my breath.
His eyes open slowly, green and heavy-lidded. They meet mine, and the world narrows.
For a second, he just looks at me like he’s not sure if I’m real, like he fell asleep holding something he didn’t deserve and woke up still holding it.
Then his gaze drops to my bare legs curled against him beneath his shirt.
His eyes darken. “Morning.”
