“I’m Kayley,” I say suddenly, awkwardly.
His mouth quirks. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too, under absolutelyidealcircumstances.”
That earns me a low, quiet chuckle. “You’ve got jokes. That’s good.”
“Do you say that to all the nearly-hypothermic women you rescue?”
“Only the ones with banana-shaped teething toys in their purse.”
Touché.
I glance around. “What is this place, exactly?”
Gavin crosses his arms. “We’re a private security unit. We handle threats. Protect people who’ve fallen through the cracks.”
“So… like Navy SEALs with better lighting and lumberjack aesthetics?”
“Something like that.”
I nod slowly, then glance down at my cider. “Cool. So I accidentally stumbled into a Jason Bourne movie.”
Gavin’s lips twitch again. “You’re not far off.”
I let out a shaky laugh, more exhaustion than humor. “So, what now?”
“Now?” Gavin crouches beside me, placing a hand on my knee—a gesture so steady, so sure, it makes something twist in my chest. “Now you rest. Aidan’s stable. We’ll get him warm, fed, and watched. You’re safe here, Kayley. I promise.”
My throat tightens.
Sophie died two weeks ago. I haven’t felt safe since.
But here, in this mountain stronghold with six action heroes and a bearded protector who smells like pine and danger?
For the first time in days, I let myself believe I might make it.
Mightsurvivethis.
Might even…breathe again.
Even if the hottest man I’ve ever seen is staring at me like I’m a puzzle he doesn’t quite trust—but kind of wants to solve anyway.
TWO
GAVIN
There’s something about her.
I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the way she held that baby like her life depended on it. Maybe it’s the fear in her eyes she tried to hide with sarcasm. Or maybe it’s the fact that, despite being soaked, shaking, and clearly running on fumes, she cracked a joke about serial killers like she was on a first date instead of stumbling into a high-security mountain compound during a blizzard.
But something deep in my chesttightens. And I don’t like it.
I’ve spent most of my life learning how to compartmentalize—pack emotions into tight little boxes and store them where they can’t get in the way. War taught me that. Loss drove it home. And Haven 7? This place demands it.
And yet, the second I opened that gate and saw her?
Box. Shattered.
