She holds my gaze for a long moment. The air between us feels thick. Charged. I clear my throat and step back before I do something stupid like pull her into my lap.
“Finish your soup,” I mutter. “Then I’m checking that ankle again.”
Daisy takes another bite, still watching me. “You’re bossy when you’re worried.”
“I’malwaysbossy. You’ll get used to it.”
Her smile grows. “Maybe I already am.”
I turn back to the stove so she can’t see the way my mouth twitches. This woman is going to be the death of my careful, quiet life.
And the worst part is I donotmind one bit.
FIVE
DAISY
The days blur together in Eli’s cabin, each one a little softer than the last. My ankle no longer screams when I put weight on it. The bruises on my ribs have faded to a dull yellow-green that only aches if I twist too fast. The stitches on my arm itch now instead of burn, a sign they’re knitting together the way they should. I move around the small space without Eli hovering every second, though he still watches me like I might vanish if he blinks.
We’ve slipped into a rhythm that feels almost normal. Mornings start with coffee he makes strong and black while I sit at the counter and watch him scramble eggs. He checks my injuries after breakfast, fingers gentle but sure as he rotates my ankle or presses along my ribs. Afternoons I read on the couch while he works on his laptop or talks quietly on the phone with the team. Evenings he cooks simple dinners and we eat side by side, our knees brushing under the table. Nights I fall asleep in his bed and he takes the couch, though I catch him checking on me more than once before he settles in.
They located my father two days ago. Rafe called with the update while Eli and I were finishing lunch. My dad’s still in Reno,but he’s gone quiet. No sudden trips. No big meetings. Dominic Garcia’s name hasn’t popped up on any new wire transfers or flight manifests. The silence feels heavier than noise. It means they’re looking for me. Planning. Closing the net slowly so I don’t hear it coming.
I stand at the kitchen window now, staring out at the snow-covered pines while Eli washes the dinner dishes behind me. The glass is cool against my forehead. My chest feels tight with the same worry that’s been growing since the first night. This can’t last forever. I can’t keep hiding here, eating his food, sleeping in his bed, letting these good people put themselves between me and a man like Dominic. My father raised me to know what happens when someone crosses him. Dominic is worse. What he wants, he takes. And right now he wants me.
I turn around. Eli dries his hands on a towel and looks at me. His dark eyes are steady, but I see the tension in his shoulders. He’s been waiting for me to say something.
“I need to talk to you,” I say.
He nods once and leans back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m listening.”
I swallow hard. The words taste bitter, but I force them out. “I’m healing. My ankle’s almost normal. The ribs don’t hurt much anymore. In another day or two I’ll be able to drive. I think… I think I should leave once I’m steady. Go somewhere else. Keep moving. I don’t want to be a burden on you or the rest of the team anymore.”
Eli’s jaw flexes. “Absolutely not.”
The flat refusal sends a spark through me. “You can’t decide that for me.”
“I just did.” He pushes off the counter and steps closer. “You’re not a burden. You’re not leaving this mountain until we know Dominic and your father can’t reach you. End of story.”
My heart pounds. Part of me wants to lean into his certainty. The other part, the part that has been running for months, pushes back. “You can’t keep me here, Eli. I’m not your patient forever. I’m a grown woman who can make her own choices.”
He stops right in front of me. Close enough that I have to tilt my head to meet his eyes. “Wanna bet?”
The challenge hangs between us for half a second. Then his hand slides to the back of my neck, warm and sure, and he pulls me in. His mouth crashes down on mine.
The kiss is nothing like the gentle brush of his fingers on my injuries. It’s heat and hunger and days of tension snapping at once. His lips are firm and demanding. He tilts my head exactly where he wants it and deepens the kiss until I open for him. His tongue sweeps in, tasting like the coffee he drank after dinner and something darker that is all him. I make a small sound in the back of my throat and clutch the front of his shirt.
He backs me against the counter without breaking the kiss. One hand stays at my nape, holding me right where he wants me. The other slides down my side, careful of my ribs but possessive, fingers splaying wide over my hip like he’s claiming territory. I rise onto my toes to get closer. He groans low when I press against him and feel how hard he already is.
The kiss turns hotter. Messier. He nips my bottom lip, then soothes the sting with his tongue. I slide my hands up his chest and into his hair, tugging just enough to make him growl. He lifts me onto the counter in one smooth motion, steppingbetween my thighs so I’m trapped against him. The cool edge of the counter bites into the backs of my legs, but all I feel is the heat of his body and the way he kisses me like he’s been starving for this.
When we finally break apart we’re both breathing hard. His forehead rests against mine. His hands stay on me, one at my waist, the other still cupping the back of my neck.
“You’re not leaving,” he says, voice rough. “Not tomorrow. Not next week. Not until I know you are safe. And maybe not even then.”
I try to catch my breath. My lips feel swollen. My whole body hums. “Eli…”
He kisses me again, slower this time, but no less intense. Like he’s sealing a promise. When he pulls back his eyes are dark and certain. “I donotdo this,” he says. “I donotget attached. I donotkeep people. But you walked through my gate bleeding and scared and something in me changed. I’m not letting Dominic Garcia take you. I’m not letting you run from me either. You’re staying. We’ll figure the rest out together.”
