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“Forget I said that. Please. I don’t want to talk about him while we’re here. I know Piper said that we needed time to talk, and we do, but can we just have a couple of days where we don’t talk about anything serious? Where we just get to know each other better, away from all of the shit waiting for us back home?”

He presses his thumb against the arch of my foot, massaging away tension I didn’t even know I was carrying.

“A couple of days to just be us sounds nice,” Killian says. “Tell me about your dream house.”

His attention doesn’t waver once, as I tell him about the house I’ve always dreamed of building on my parents’ land. I know the exact spot—close enough to Landon and my parents that it’s only a few minutes’ walk, but far enough for a good amount of privacy. I would have a big kitchen island with stools, where we could eat breakfast in the mornings, and a real dining room with enough space to fit my whole family comfortably. A big comfy sectional where we could all curl up in front of the fire for movie nights, and the kids could make dens with their friends when they come over. The kids would have a playroom with a craft table where they could glitter to their heart’s content, and I’d have a clawfoot tub big enough for both me and Killian to relax in together.

Admittedly, Killian being there is a new addition but, for the first time, I don’t shut myself down when I imagine him in my dream home, my dream life.

It’s nothing fancy, just a good family home where we could all be happy and comfortable. Somewhere I’d be proud to raise my kids; somewhere Dom couldn’t take away from us.

“What does your dream house look like?” I ask Killian.

He’s quiet for a moment, and I swear I can see the wheels turning in his head as he thinks. “To be honest, I’ve never really thought about the house itself. More the vibe, you know? I want a house that feels like home. Somewhere I can be totally myself, with the people I care most about in the world. Maybe with a garage or a shed. My grandpa is the kind of man who, no matter what project you’re working on, he has what you need. Growing up, I remember people dropping in and out to borrow things. I think I’d like to be the kind of person people know they can come to if they need something.”

It’s such a Killian dream to have—he loves to be useful. Where some people see helping others as a burden, he really thrives on it. He would, despite the god-awful example he had growing up, be an excellent dad.

I don’t know if he wants kids. It’s something I probably should ask, but I’m terrified of his answer because both yes and no pose problems for me. If he doesn’t want kids, is he really going to want to be with someone who already has them long-term? And if he does want kids of his own, I can’t give him that; I’m all tapped out at two. It’s another in a long list of conversations we need to have, but our bubble is temporarily back, shielding us from the real world while we’re here, and I’m not going to waste it.

So, I push all the serious shit out of my head and shift so I can lie my head on his chest. “I can totally see you as that kind of person.”

“One day,” he says with a soft smile, kissing my forehead. “Do you want to do food or the hot tub first?”

“What are you thinking?” I counter, looking up so his lips skate down my cheek.

“I’m thinking I’m going to be eating either way, so—”

“Hot tub.”

“Good choice.”

I change in the bathroom, because I want Killian to get the full effect of the swimsuit, and I know it’s going to take me a couple of tries to figure out where everything goes. It’s not something I’d ever have picked out for myself—not that I have any need to buy swimwear, usually. The only time I ever need a swimsuit is the odd occasion when James is feeling too clingy to go in the water by himself for his swimming lessons at the community pool. But Piper asked me what Killian’s favorite color was last week, and I know the barely, there bikini is as much a present for him as it is for me.

The top is silky soft and held together by a thin string that zigzags over my body and ties in a bow between my breasts. The bottoms tie on my hips, and, if I didn’t know Killian was going to tear them from me in a few seconds flat, I bet the hot-tub jets would have done the job.

The winter wind is howling as I tiptoe through the cabin, slide my feet into my slippers, and step outside. I open my mouth to complain about how fucking freezing it is, but the view steals the words from my tongue; Killian is standing in the hot tub, dripping wet, his forearms braced on the edge as he stares up at the mountains. Those damn forearms will be the death of me.

The door clicks shut behind me and Killian turns to look at me. His gaze falls down my body like fire licking my skin, heating me from the outside in.

“Fuck.” The wind carries his whispered curse, but I hear the words that follow loud and clear: “Get over here, baby.”

I waste no time doing just that. Steam billows from the hot tub as Killian steps back to allow me to perch on the edge where he was leaning. I kick my slippers off and swing my legs around, lowering them into the hot bubbling water with a groan. But before I can fully submerge myself, Killian steps between my legs.

“Christ, I didn’t think the view could get better, but here you are.”

From someone else, it could sound like a line, but he’s looking at me with such reverence that it feels genuine. He runs his hands up my legs, warming them better than the water ever could.

“You’re all wrapped up like a present,” he murmurs, toying with the ties at my hips. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been so excited to unwrap something.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“Patience. Let me savor you, love.”

And savor he does; I swear his gaze touches every inch of my body, darkening with each one, his fingers trembling on the bows.

I expect him to tear them apart, but he drags his hands down and settles them on my thighs, licking his lips. He leans down and kisses his way up my body: my scar, my belly button, the silky red cups of the bikini. Then he closes his teeth around the end of the bow between them and tugs. The top falls away and Killian’s warm breath tickles my chest as he lets loose a long, ragged breath.

He closes his lips around my nipple, his thumbs pressing into my hips, and my head falls back. The contrast of the cool air and the searing flames spreading through me is a fucking dream. I don’t notice Killian undoing the strings holding my bikini bottoms to my body, but I notice as he moves down my torso, kissing and murmuring soft words. I notice when he kneels between my legs and drags his tongue over me. I notice so much, I almost fall backward off the tub.