“Hey,” he says gently, brushing his fingers along my side to get my attention.
I blink up at him, still a little dazed, and let him take care of me. His touch is gentle as he cleans me up, making sure I’m comfortable before taking care of himself just as quickly. It’s simple and intimate in a way that makes my heart clench.
When he’s done, he tosses the cloth aside and slides back into bed beside me, pulling the covers up. Then he tugs me into him, wrapping me up against his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I go easily, settling against him, my head tucked beneath his chin.
It should feel ridiculous.
I’m not small by any means. I’m a six-foot-two giant being held by a much smaller man.
But instead of embarrassment, something warm unfurls in my chest.
I love this.
The way he holds me like I’m something worth protecting. Like I matter. Like I’m safe here.
His hand lifts to cradle the back of my head, fingers threading gently through my hair as he presses a kiss to the crown.
“I’m so damn lucky to have you,” he whispers.
My throat tightens, but I don’t pull away.
“You were so good tonight,” he continues softly. “So strong. So brave. And you’re smart as hell, you know that? Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”
I let out a quiet breath, my fingers tightening around his soft belly.
For the first time… I think I believe him.
The thought settles deep, sinking into places that have been empty for a long time.
His hand keeps moving through my hair, slow and steady, his heartbeat a quiet rhythm beneath my ear. And somewhere between one breath and the next, wrapped up safely in his arms, I drift off to sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Troy
Thebarnlookssodifferent now.
It used to lean, its roof half-collapsed, its wooden siding weathered and bleached pale from years under the sun. Now it stands tall against the gray Michigan sky, its repaired frame clean and solid. The bones are the same, but now it feels… cared for. Like Ashton nursed it back to health.
I huff out a quiet breath and push my van door open, the cold biting at my cheeks as I step out. Shoving my hands into my jacket pockets, I head up the path, my boots thudding against the frozen ground.
He told me yesterday—literally yesterday—when his cast came off that he couldn’t wait to get back to work.
I told him to take it easy.
He rolled his eyes at me.
So… here I am.
The new barn door glides open smoothly, and I step inside.
The smell hits me first—fresh lumber, sawdust, something clean layered over the old history of the place. It’s warmer here than outside, sunlight pouring through the newly installed windows and stretching in golden bands across the wide plank floors.
I pause just inside the doorway, taking it all in.
The roof beams arch overhead, sturdy and proud, strands of fairy lights wrapped around each one. A narrow staircase climbs to the newly built loft along the far wall. Wide, arched windows frame theorchard perfectly. It’s nothing but bare skeletal branches now, but I can already picture it in bloom. The view will be spectacular.
