It’s caring.
And the terrifying thing is… I like it.
Eli finishes and steps back. “He’s good, Kayley. You did everything right.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say softly.
Gavin’s hand presses a little firmer at my back. “You got him here.”
My heart stutters.
Before I can reply, the front door opens, and a rush of cold air sweeps in along with a woman bundled in a winter coat. She stomps snow from her boots and waves at the room like she’s been here her whole life.
She’s beautiful in a way that feels warm and lived-in. Soft hair tucked into a beanie, cheeks flushed from the cold, eyes bright with the kind of happiness that comes from being loved.
And in her arms is a baby.
A baby with a pink hat, chubby cheeks, and the same wide-eyed expression as Aidan.
“Harper,” Gavin says, and something in his voice shifts.
Not romantic. Not longing.
More like… respect.
Like she’s family too.
“Morning,” she sings out, and then her gaze lands on me. Her eyes soften instantly. “You must be Kayley.”
I blink. “Hi. Yes. That’s me.”
Harper steps closer carefully, bouncing the baby on her hip. “I’m Harper. Rafe’s wife.”
I glance toward the back of the lodge, where Rafe is emerging from the hallway. The way his face changes when he sees Harper makes my chest ache again.
This place is full of men who look like they could break the world in half…
…and they all look at the people they love like the world is already saved.
“This is Poppi,” Harper says, adjusting the baby’s little hat. “She’s my niece. Rafe and I… we’re raising her.”
My stomach twists in a complicated way I can’t name.
BecauseI get it.
I get what it means to suddenly become someone’s whole world. To step into a role you never planned for, because love demanded you do it.
Poppi reaches a tiny hand toward Aidan, and he stares at her like he’s never seen another baby before.
Harper laughs softly. “Oh, look at that. They’re the same age, right?”
I nod. “Six months?”
Harper nods. “Well then,” she says, like she’s decided something important, “we should absolutely do the baby blanket thing.”
“The baby blanket thing?” I repeat.
Chase points toward a woven basket in the corner. “There’s always a baby blanket thing now.”
