Now there’s you, I think.
Now there’s a man who looks at me like I’m not broken.
Now there’s warmth and safety and the terrifying possibility that I might want more than survival.
I lower my voice. “Now I’m scared I’ll want something I can’t have.”
Gavin steps closer until he’s right in front of me. Close enough I can feel the heat coming off him. Close enough my lungs forget what they’re doing.
“What do you think you can’t have?” he asks.
I shake my head, swallowing hard. “You.”
His expression tightens, just for a second. Then his hand lifts, slowly, giving me time to pull away. He brushes his knuckles along my cheek. “You don’t know what I want,” he murmurs.
My breath catches. “I know you shouldn’t want me.”
“That’s not your call.”
My whole body goes alert, like I’m a tuning fork struck by his voice. The baby shifts in my arms, and I freeze, holding my breath. Aidan makes a soft sigh and settles again, tiny mouth puckering in his sleep.
Gavin’s eyes drop to the baby, then lift back to mine. “Put him down,” he says softly. “I’ll watch him.”
I hesitate.
He reads it instantly. “You don’t trust me with him?”
“It’s not that,” I whisper. “It’s that… if I put him down, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Gavin’s mouth curves faintly. “Tell me what you want to do.”
My pulse thunders. That question is a trap. A gorgeous, bearded trap.
I swallow, voice barely there. “I want you to kiss me again.”
His gaze darkens. “Then put him down.”
I move carefully, like every sound could shatter the moment. I cross to the bassinet and lower Aidan into it, tucking the blanket around his tiny body, watching his chest rise and fall.
Alive. Warm. Safe.
I turn back.
Gavin’s watching me like he’s been starving and I’m the first real meal he’s seen in years. And the look on his face makes my knees go weak. He closes the distance in one slow step, then another, until I’m backed lightly against the edge of the kitchen counter. Not trapped—held. His hands brace on either side of me, not touching yet. “Kayley,” he says, voice a warning. “I’m not a casual man.”
My breath stutters. “Good.”
His eyes flash. “You’re sure?”
I nod, and my voice comes out stronger than I feel. “I’m scared of a lot of things right now, Gavin. But I’m not scared ofthis.”
Something shifts in him.
He leans in and kisses me again—slow, deep, and careful, like he’s teaching my body a language it always should’ve known. His mouth is warm, and his beard brushes my skin, rough in the best possible way.
I make a small sound—surprise, pleasure, I don’t even know—and his hands finally slide to my waist, pulling me closer.
The pressure of him against me lights everything up.
