When we get inside I start pulling ingredients out for dinner. “You want to help?”
She smiles. “I would love to.”
We cook together. Nothing fancy. Grilled pork chops, roasted vegetables, and rice. She chops vegetables while I season the pork. We bump into each other on purpose, stealing quick kisses between tasks. She laughs when I steal a piece of carrot from her cutting board. I laugh when she flicks a drop of olive oil at me. The kitchen fills with warmth and the smell of good food and even better company.
We eat at the small table by the window. Conversation flows easy. She tells me more about the books she used to read in secret, about the patients she helped at the hospital volunteer program, about the little ways she tried to carve out a life for herself under her father’s control. I tell her about my early days at Haven 7, about the first piece of furniture I ever built here, about how the mountain slowly started to feel like home again after the war.
After dinner we clean up together, then move to the couch. I build up the fire while she grabs the big quilt. We settle in under it, her head on my chest, my arm around her shoulders. The fire crackles softly. Outside the wind moves through the pines, but inside everything feels peaceful.
She traces small circles on my chest with her fingertip. “Today was perfect,” she says quietly. “Walking around with you, seeing everything, feeling like I could actually belong here. I haven’t felt this safe or this happy in… I don’t even know how long.”
I tighten my arm around her. “You do belong here. I want you to feel that. Not just today. Every day.”
She tilts her head up and kisses me softly. The kiss deepens slowly, turning warm and lingering. We do not rush. We just enjoy being close, touching, breathing the same air.
I stroke her hair and hold her against me. The quiet moments like this mean as much as the heated ones. Maybe more. She fits against me like she was made to be there. The thought should scare me. Instead it settles something deep inside my chest.
We stay on the couch for hours. Talking. Kissing. Simply being together. The fire burns lower. The cabin grows cozier. Daisy’s breathing eventually slows as she drifts toward sleep in my arms.
I look down at her, peaceful and trusting, and feel the truth settle over me like the quilt we’re sharing.
I’m falling in love with her.
Hard. Fast. Completely.
And for the first time in my life, I’m not trying to fight it.
I press a gentle kiss to the top of her head and hold her a little tighter.
Whatever comes next with Dominic, with her father, with the threat still hovering somewhere out there, we’ll face it together.
But right now, in this quiet cabin on the mountain, with Daisy warm and safe in my arms, everything feels exactly right.
This is what home feels like.
And I never want to lose it.
THIRTEEN
DAISY
The next morning I wake up slowly, the cabin filled with soft winter light and the faint scent of cedar from the beams overhead. My body feels light and strong again. The ankle hardly twinges when I stretch. The bruises on my ribs are almost gone, just faint yellow marks that no longer ache when I breathe deep. I lie there for a moment and let myself enjoy the quiet. This place has started to feel like home in a way I never expected. I enjoy the rhythm we’ve built. Mornings with coffee at the counter while Eli cooks. Afternoons where I help him in the workshop or read by the fire. Nights where I fall asleep in his arms and actually rest. I love it here. I love the people. I love him.
Eli stirs beside me and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Morning, beautiful.”
“Morning.” I turn and kiss him properly, slow and warm. We linger in bed longer than usual, trading lazy touches and soft words until he finally sighs and sits up.
“I need to shower. I promised Rafe I would check the perimeter cameras this morning. You okay on your own for a bit?”
I nod and smile. “I’m perfect. I’ll make coffee.”
He kisses me once more, then heads to the bathroom. The sound of the shower starts a moment later. I pull on one of his flannel shirts and pad to the kitchen. I start the coffee maker and stand at the window, looking out at the snow-covered pines. Everything feels peaceful. Safe. I can’t remember the last time I felt this content.
My phone vibrates on the counter. I almost ignore it. It’s the burner Eli gave me, the one only the team knows about. But the screen lights up with an unknown number. My stomach drops. I hesitate, then answer.
“Daisy.” My father’s voice is low and urgent. “Do not hang up. Listen to me.”
I grip the phone tighter. My hand starts to shake. “Dad?”
