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“And now you are?”

“Yes. I am.”

Dom screws up his face. “Did it have to be my son? Of all the people in the world …”

It did. But I don’t think he’d thank me for saying that, either.

“Look, I’ve never asked you for anything. In over eight years. I’m asking you now to let me have a couple of days, even if you’re not happy with who I’m having them with. Please. Just listen to Landon and Piper, take their lead. I would love for us to get to the point where you can watch the kids alone, but we’re not there yet.”

He drums his fingers on the table, like he’s trying to reel in his irritation. “Fine. I want that too, and if this is what it takes, I’ll do it.”

Inside, I’m breathing the world’s biggest sigh of relief, but I don’t want him to see how happy I am that Killian and I are getting our break. If he thinks I’m too happy, he might take it away.

38

Scarlett

The sun is just starting to set, bathing the mountains in a hazy orange, by the time Killian pulls up outside the cabin Piper booked. We’re just outside of Otter Peak, but far enough away that there’s nothing in our immediate vicinity. The cabin sits alone down a dirt road that hasn’t seen a shovel, let alone a snowplow—Killian held the wheel with a white-knuckle grip, crawling along so slowly, we probably could have walked faster.

It’s perfect.

We get out of the car, and I lean against the hood, looking up at the golden sky. “It’s so quiet.”

I close my eyes and breathe in the freezing mountain air, the woody pine. Footsteps crunch as Killian rounds the car to stand beside me, and I feel his gaze warming my skin. When I open my eyes and turn my head, he’s looking at me with a thoughtful expression.

“What?”

“Your smile. You look so peaceful. Happy.”

“I am happy.” It slips off my tongue with ease for the first time since I was a teenager.

“I think those three words from your lips might be my favorite thing in the whole world, love.”

As he says it, my mind offers up three more words, but I push them down, swallowing under the intensity, and clear my throat. “If you think that’s your favorite thing in the world, just wait until you see what I brought to wear in the hot tub,” I joke, breaking up the moment.

And because Killian’s Killian, and he just seems to know what I need at all times, he lets me.

“You know I’d pretty much always rather see you in nothing, right?” He smacks my ass lightly as I head toward the cabin, and even through my jeans, his touch sizzles over my skin.

Inside, the cabin is cozy; it’s small, but there’s more than enough room for the two of us. The living and kitchen space are in the same room, with a loft bed that looks up at the stars through a window in the ceiling. We stopped in Otter Peak to pick up groceries, firewood, and soup and sandwiches for dinner, which is just as well, because now that we’re here, I don’t want to waste a single second of our time with anyone but each other.

I kneel in front of the fireplace and get a fire going while Killian brings our bags in, humming one of the kids’ favorite Christmas songs under his breath. He probably doesn’t even notice he’s doing it, but they’ve spent so many nights dancing around the living room to it lately that it must be etched in his brain.

Since becoming a mom, I’ve found it easier to be around people when I have the kids with me. They’re like shields, stealing focus so I don’t feel like I have to be fun or interesting. But I enjoy being with Killian one-on-one as much as I do with the kids. There’s no crushing pressure to be anything but what I am in his company; his presence is warm and calming.

Almost everyone I know, I met before I had Caitlin, and it feels like I spend all my time proving I’m a good mom, so much so that I don’t know how to be just-Scarlett with them anymore. Killian has only ever known mom-Scarlett and just-Scarlett as the same person, and he’s never made me feel like he prefers one over the other. When I’m with him, it feels like he just wants to be around me, whichever version of myself I have to be.

The fire crackles to life and I take a seat on the squishy two-seater couch to watch the flames flicker and dance. A moment later, Killian leans over the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around me.

“The fire looks good,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

“I’ve always wanted a fireplace,” I tell him as he rounds the couch to sit beside me. Immediately, he pulls my legs up onto his lap so he can rub my feet. “When I was a kid, I sat in front of my parents’ fire all winter long, any chance I got. I did my homework there, read, did puzzles. Piper and I used to cut pictures out of magazines and print them off at the library to make mood boards of our dream houses, and mine always had a fireplace.”

“You’re not going to be in that house forever, Scar,” Killian tells me. “You’ll get your fireplace.”

“Maybe. At this point, I’d settle for a house your dad can’t hold over my head.”

Regret courses through me as storm clouds roll over Killian’s face. He opens his mouth, but I interrupt before he can speak.