April followed them down the hall with a blanket, her throat tight at the sight of Shane carrying her sleeping child like he'd done it a hundred times before.
Like he planned to do it a hundred times more.
The guest room was beside the main bathroom. Shane shouldered the door open and April got her first look at the space—a double bed with a navy quilt, simple wooden furniture, a lamp on the nightstand already turned to its lowest setting.
He laid Kevin down gently, and together they pulled off his shoes and tucked the blanket around him. Kevin mumbled something that might have been "love you" or might have been nothing at all, then rolled onto his side.
April smoothed his hair back from his forehead, the way she'd done since he was a baby.
"He really loves you," she whispered.
Shane was still watching Kevin sleep, his expression so tender it made April's chest ache.
They stood there a moment longer, side by side in the doorway, watching Kevin sleep in Shane's guest room like it was where he belonged.
Finally, Shane eased the door mostly closed—not latched, just cracked enough to hear if Kevin called out. Pete settled on the floor outside the door, assuming guard duty without being asked.
"Good boy," Shane murmured, scratching behind Pete's ears.
They walked back to the living room together. The fire had burned down to embers, casting a softer glow. The storm outside had gentled further to a good soaking rain, the thunder gone. Shane picked up her beer can and offered it to her.
"Thanks." April took it, settling back onto the couch. Shane sat beside her—close but not crowding, waiting for her to make the first move.
She curled into his side like it was inevitable, like gravity pulling her there. His arm came around her shoulders, warm and solid.
"So," Shane said after a moment. "Today."
"Today," April agreed.
"Kevin had fun."
"He did. He hasn't been that happy in..." She trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.Since before the drive-by. Since before he started having nightmares. Since before he hired you to be my bodyguard.
"You had fun, too," Shane said.
"I did." April took a sip of beer. "This was... this was a good day."
"The best," Shane said quietly.
They sat like that for a while, not talking, just existing together in the warm quiet. April could feel Shane's heartbeat where her head rested against his pec, steady and sure. The flannel she wore smelled like him. Everything in this cabin smelled like him, felt like him—solid and safe and real.
I could get used to this, April thought.I could get used to him.
"So," Shane said eventually, his voice careful. "About that question I asked on the mountain."
April's pulse kicked up. "You mean the one about giving you another chance?" she asked, stalling.
"That's the one." His arm tightened slightly around her. "You said you'd answer after the hike."
"I did say that." April set down her empty beer, buying herself a moment. This was it—the moment where she either jumped or backed away from the edge. "Shane?—"
"Before you answer," he interrupted gently, "I need to say something."
April tilted her head to look at him. His expression was serious, vulnerable in a way that made her chest ache.
"I know you're scared," Shane said. "I know you have every reason to be. I hurt you once, badly. My father threatened your family. You spent years building a life without me, raising Kevin on your own, proving you didn't need a man." He took a breath. "But, April, I'm not asking you to need me. I'm asking you to want me. To choose this. Choose us."
"What if it doesn't work?" The same words from the night before came out quieter than she intended. "What if we try this and it falls apart? What if?—"
