Gavin walks like he always has purpose. Even when he’s just moving across a property full of cabins and pine trees, he carries himself like a man who knows exactly where the threats are hiding—and exactly how to kill them if they show their face.
But then he looks down at Aidan in my arms, and his expression softens in a way that makes my chest ache.
It’s so confusing.
How can someone look like danger and safety at the same time?
We step into the main lodge, and warmth wraps around me immediately. The fire is going. Coffee is brewing. It smells like home and bacon and that specific kind of clean that comes from men who live by routines and don’t leave messes behind unless they’re tactical.
“Morning,” Chase calls from the kitchen like he owns it, one hip leaned against the counter.
He’s holding a mug that saysWORLD’S BEST UNCLEin bold letters, which is hilarious because he looks like the type of man who’d wrestle a bear for fun.
Rhett is at the table with Wyatt, both of them bent over a laptop like they’re planning a heist. Boyd is sitting in a chair that looks like it might actually break under the force of his shoulders, silently sharpening something that absolutely does not need sharpening at nine in the morning.
Eli—Elias, technically, but everyone calls him Eli—looks up from the med bag he’s arranging and smiles gently the way actual angels probably do.
“Bring the little guy over here,” Eli says. “Let’s make sure we’re still headed in the right direction.”
I step closer, bouncing Aidan lightly while Eli checks him over with calm hands and a focused expression. His temperature is normal. His breathing is clear. He listens to his chest, checks his ears, and then gives me a small nod.
“He’s doing well,” Eli says. “A little tired, but that’s normal after a fever. Keep fluids up. If he spikes again, we’ll run a fuller workup.”
The relief that hits me is so sharp I almost sway.
Gavin’s hand finds the small of my back, steadying me without making a big deal out of it. “You’re okay,” he murmurs, like he knows my body still forgets how to relax.
I glance up at him and nod, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “I’m okay,” I whisper back. And I mean it. Which is… new.
Chase leans in, peering at Aidan like he’s inspecting a tiny recruit. “Kid’s got grit. He screamed at Gavin at three a.m. and lived to tell the tale.”
I blink. “He woke you up too?”
Chase smirks. “Whole mountain heard him. Pretty sure a moose filed a noise complaint.” He laughs. “Not really, Gavin told us in the group chat.”
I laugh—an actual laugh, the kind that bursts out of me before I can stop it—and it feels like my lungs are stretching in a way they haven’t in weeks. “Don’t blame him,” I say, shifting Aidan higher on my hip. “The baby’s had a rough couple of days.”
Boyd’s mouth twitches—barely, but it’s there. “So have you.”
That’s it. That’s all he says.
But something about the way he says it—like it’s a statement of fact, like he sees me, like he’s acknowledging what I survived without pity—makes my throat tighten again.
“Okay,” I manage, forcing lightness back into my voice. “So what’s the etiquette here? Do I have to pass some kind of initiation? Do you make me chop wood while blindfolded?”
Rhett finally looks up. “We used to.”
My eyes widen.
Chase laughs. “He’s kidding. Mostly.”
Gavin clears his throat, giving them a look that makes every man in the room straighten like he snapped a silent command. “You’re not scaring her,” he says, voice low.
It should annoy me—him stepping in like that, like I need protecting fromjokes.
Instead… it warms me.
Because it’s not controlling.
