I turn toward the kitchen, but he grabs my elbow and pulls me back. His eyes are blazing now, something raw and urgent sparking there.
He kisses me hard, almost frantically, and full of everything he can’t put into words.
I melt into it, sliding my hands into his hair as he presses me back against the table. Our bodies align, heat building fast. This feels primal—not about dominance, not about ego—but about him needing to anchor himself.
So I let him.
Let him take control.
Let him prove to himself that he is still strong, still the man who protects, who provides.
His mouth moves against mine with intensity, and I feel him harden against me as he pulls me closer. I lift my leg instinctively, wrapping it around his hip to draw him in tighter. He grinds once, breath rough as he breaks the kiss and looks into my eyes. “All of this ismine,” he murmurs, his hand sliding slowly down my chest, lingering over the curve of my breast. “I love what you’re doing for my family, and when you’re fully recovered, I’m going to thank you properly.”
Heat floods through me.
I kiss him again, softer this time, before lowering my leg and stepping back as we both struggle to regain composure…
Just as Gran rounds the corner with a tray of cookies.
“Oh, there you are. Cookies, anyone?”
Mercs subtly adjusts himself and grabs one quickly. “Thanks, Gran. Effa’s got something amazing to tell you. Let’s head to the living room.”
***
Telling Gran was everything I’d hoped it would be. She cried openly, hugging me tighter than I expected and thanking me over and over for giving their family this gift. We spent the rest of the night gathered around the dining table, researching every detail we could find about the stem cell procedure—what to expect, timelines, recovery phases, risks, and success rates. It felt surreal, like we were planning something monumental.
Because we were.
Knowing that I’m going to help Kiera through this fills me with a deep, steady warmth. I can’t shake the feeling that this is the real reason I was brought back to Ligonier, not just for my recovery, but for hers. It feels like Gaia’s hand at work, as though some greater force nudged the pieces into place exactly when they needed to be. Whether Kaden realized it or not, bringing me here has set both Kiera and me on a path toward healing.
Together.
But first, we have to tell her.
Kaden, Gran, and I sit in the living room the next morning, leaflets spread across the coffee table as we quietly review everything we’d gone over the night before. Kiera makes her way downstairs, still half-asleep, stretching and yawning as she shuffles into the room.
We all fall silent.
Her brow lifts immediately. “Wow! That wasn’t weird at all, and completely not obvious that you were all talking about me. What’s going on?” She rounds the sofa, and her eyes drop to the leaflets scattered across the table.
Recognition dawns instantly.
Her gaze snaps to me.
I give the smallest shake of my head, silently assuring her I didn’t betray our private conversation. She shifts her focus to Kaden instead.
He stands, takes a steady breath, and walks toward her, gently taking her hand in his. “Kiera… I love you.”
She squints at him. “Aaand now you’re officially being weird—”
“Shut up,” he mutters, trying to keep his composure. “I’m being serious.”
She presses her lips together, suddenly sensing the weight in his tone.
“Effa and I talked last night,” he continues, exhaling slowly as his shoulders sag. “I told her we needed the money for your procedure…” He pauses, swallowing hard. “She’s paying for everything.”
Kiera’s head snaps toward me, her mouth falling open in disbelief.
