He pulled into the driveway and cut the engine. For a moment, they just sat there, looking at the life they were building.
"So," Tessa said. "Partners at home, partners at the shop. Anything else you want to add to the list?"
He turned to look at her, at this woman who had crashed into his solitude and made it feel like loneliness, who had shown him that healing wasn't a destination but a direction.
"Ask me again in a few months," he said. "I might have some ideas."
Her smile was slow and bright, like sunrise over the bay. "I'll hold you to that, Brian Knight."
"I'm counting on it."
They walked into the cottage together, and the door closed behind them on everything they used to be.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges. The fire chief was still waiting for an answer. Tessa's leave was still ticking down. The future was still uncertain in a thousand small ways.
Chapter Nineteen
The cottage felt different when they walked through the door.
Tessa couldn't pinpoint exactly what had changed, only that something had. The air seemed lighter, the space more open, as if Brian's decision at the shop had unlocked something that had been pressing against the walls for months. He moved differently, too, she realized. Less guarded. His shoulders sat lower, and the permanent furrow between his brows had smoothed into something that looked almost like peace.
"You're staring," he said, dropping his keys on the counter.
"I'm observing. There's a difference."
"Is that your medical training talking?"
"It's my, I've been living with you for two months, and I've never seen you look like this, talking." She crossed to him, close enough to touch but not quite touching. "You look happy, Brian."
He considered that for a moment, head tilted slightly to one side. "Yeah. I think maybe I am."
"It suits you."
"Being happy?"
"Being you. The real you. Not the version that was hiding."
His hand came up to cup her face, thumb tracing along her cheekbone. "You know what? You might be the smartest person I've ever met."
"Might be?"
"Are. Definitely are." He leaned down and kissed her, soft and slow, like they had all the time in the world. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark. "I want to celebrate."
"What did you have in mind?"
Instead of answering, he kissed her again. Deeper this time. His tongue slid against hers, and his hands dropped to her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh above her hips. He pulled her against him until she could feel the heat of his body through both their shirts, the hard line of him already pressing against her belly.
"I have some ideas," he said against her mouth.
"Show me."
He lifted her, hands gripping the backs of her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at the small of his back. The friction made her gasp. He carried her toward the bedroom, his mouth on her neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin below her ear.
The bedroom was dim, the late-afternoon light filtering through the curtains and painting everything gold. He set her on the edge of the bed and stepped between her knees, looking down at her.
"Take off your shirt," she said.
He pulled it over his head and dropped it. The light caught the planes of his chest, the dark hair that trailed down his stomach, the muscles that twelve years as an EMT had built. She reached out and pressed her palm flat against his sternum. His skin was warm, his heart beating hard beneath her hand.
