He snorts. Actuallysnorts.“Right. And I’m a forest fairy.”
I grab a pencil and throw it at him. “Did you miss sexy murder wolf?”
He pushes off the doorframe with a lazy roll of his shoulders. “My favorite nickname.” Then, with a mock-wounded expression, “Right after ‘emotionally constipated.’”
I snicker. “Well. If the shoe fits.”
He closes the distance between us slowly, that unintentional prowl he does—broad shoulders, sleepy predatory ease, like he’s stalking something that already belongs to him.
“So,” he murmurs, “you want to stay here indefinitely? You do know the forest fairies might have something to say about that.”
I grin. “You’re the forest fairy?”
“Don’t insult me.” His mouth twitches. “They like you, though.”
He stops right in front of me, and suddenly the space feels… different. Still. Charged.
His tone shifts before I even see it coming.
“That song you played…” His voice drops, softer, real. “I don’t know much about music. But my skin prickled. Like it—Christ, I don’t know—hitsomething in me.” He searches my eyes, and the vulnerability there nearly knocks the breath out of me. “Your voice just… settled my damn soul.”
My throat tightens. “Ethan…”
He lifts a hand, brushing his knuckles along my jaw—gentle, reverent, like he thinks I might break if he presses too hard.
“You said you want me,” he says quietly. “Well… I want you too.” His thumb strokes my cheek. “And Lily—she wants you in our life. You should hear her talk about you when you’re not around. She’s already convinced you’re staying in Cedar Lake forever.”
A warm, aching happiness unfurls in my chest. “Maybe I am.”
He leans his forehead against mine, breath mingling with mine, the tiniest smile tugging at his lips.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Saves me the trouble of kidnapping you.”
I rise onto my toes and kiss him.
At first, it’s soft—just the warm press of his mouth on mine, the sleepy scrape of his stubble against my skin, the kind of kiss that feels like a secret whispered between two heartbeats.
But then Ethan lets out a low sound in his chest, and everything changes.
His hand slides to the back of my neck, tilting my head as he deepens the kiss—slow, hungry, unhurried in the way that says he’s been awake for thirty seconds and still somehow starving for me. His other hand finds my waist, fingers flexing, drawing me against his heat.
I open for him without thinking, without breathing, without even remembering how to stand properly. His mouth claims mine with a kind of reverence and possession all tangled together, like he’s tasting the truth of everything we said last night.
The counter digs into my hips before I realize he’s walked me backward.
“Ethan,” I whisper against his lips, the word half-a-plea, half-a-confession.
He answers with another kiss—deeper, slower, devastating—like he means to memorize me. His hands roam up my sides, sliding beneath the thin fabric I’m wearing, and my breath shudders.
The morning light spills across the kitchen floor, warm on our skin, turning everything golden. Ethan lifts me with effortless strength, setting me on the counter as if he’s done it a thousand times. His forehead rests against mine, both of us breathing hard, and for a moment we just look at each other—want, tenderness, awe, all in the same breath.
“You sure?” he murmurs.
I cup his jaw, trace the line of his cheek, and kiss him again—slow, certain, pulling him closer until I feel him shiver.
“I want you,” I whisper. “Here. Now.”
The last coherent thought I have is Ethan’s soft, broken curse against my mouth—then his hands slide over my thighs, pulling me in, and the world tilts.
