Chapter 7 #2
"Let me finish." She sets down the spoon, turning to face me fully. "I know our arrangement started as a cover story, a way to hide from Greg. But these past few days..." She takes a deep breath. "They've been the happiest I've had in years. Maybe ever."
My heart pounds as she continues.
"You make me feel safe, but not just physically. You make me feel safe to be myself. To want things I'd given up on." Her eyes shine with unshed tears. "And I just wanted you to know that whatever happens with Greg, whatever comes next... I'm grateful for this time with you."
The emotion in her voice undoes me. I cross the kitchen in two strides, gathering her in my arms and kissing her with all the feelings I can't yet put into words. She responds instantly, arms winding around my neck, body pressing against mine.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. "Dinner's going to burn," she whispers against my lips.
"I don't care." I lift her onto the counter, stepping between her thighs.
"Me neither." She pulls me back for another kiss, hunger evident in her touch.
We don't make it to the bedroom. Instead, I take her right there in the kitchen, her back against the refrigerator, legs wrapped around my waist. It's frantic and primal, both of us needing this connection, this affirmation of what's growing between us.
Later, after salvaging dinner and eating by candlelight, we decorate the smaller tree for her bedroom. Destiny insists on making it themed, all silver and blue ornaments, with tiny snowflakes she cut by hand.
"My mom and I used to make these," she explains, showing me how to fold the paper just so. "Different pattern every year."
"You miss them? Your family?"
She considers the question, hanging a delicate blue ball on a branch. "Yes and no. I love them, but they never really saw me. Not all of me." She glances at me. "Not like you do."
The simple admission fills me with a fierce protectiveness. I want to be the one who always sees her, who notices when she's tired or sad or needs space. Who celebrates her victories and helps shoulder her burdens.
"Riley sent a message," I mention as we finish the tree. "Invited us to the community Christmas party tomorrow night at the school."
"A party?" Destiny's eyes light up. "With dancing?"
"Usually. It's the big event of the season. Whole town turns out."
"Then we definitely need to go." She claps her hands together. "I'll need to find something to wear. Something festive."
Her excitement is infectious. "I might know a place. There's a boutique in town, Sylvie's. She carries holiday dresses this time of year."
"Perfect! We can go tomorrow." She wraps her arms around my waist, looking up at me with sparkling eyes. "I haven't been to a proper Christmas party in years."
I'm struck again by how little it takes to make her happy. After everything she's been through, she still finds joy in simple pleasures, Christmas decorations, a community party, a new dress.
"It's a date," I promise, dropping a kiss on her forehead.
That night, I hold her close as she sleeps, mind racing with everything I want to tell her. That I've never felt this way about anyone. That the thought of her leaving after Christmas makes my chest ache. That I'm falling in love with her, no, that I've already fallen, hard and completely.
But the words stay locked behind my teeth, caution keeping them captive. It's too soon. She's still healing. Still figuring out who she is outside of Greg's influence. The last thing she needs is pressure from me, no matter how well-intentioned.
So I settle for showing her instead, through gentle touches and passionate nights, through Christmas trees and candy canes, through unwavering support and steadfast protection.
And I hope, with everything in me, that it's enough. That when the danger passes and she has real choices again, she'll choose to stay.
The next morning brings an unexpected call from Tom. "We've got a problem," he says without preamble.
I step onto the porch to take the call, not wanting to alarm Destiny. "What kind of problem?"
"Got a guy at the station asking questions about new residents. Says he's from the California Department of Education, doing a follow-up on a teacher who left her position without proper notice."
My blood runs cold. "Description?"
"Mid-forties, clean-cut, expensive suit. Not our SUV driver but definitely connected. He's got official-looking paperwork, knows Destiny's full name and former employer."
"Shit." I run a hand through my hair. "What did you tell him?"
"Standard response, no record of anyone by that name in our jurisdiction. But he didn't buy it. Said he'll be staying at the Mountain View Inn for a few days, continuing his 'investigation.'"
"He's escalating. Sending in someone who looks legitimate to ask questions."
"That's my read too." Tom's voice is grim. "I've put Martinez on alert, but we need to be careful. This guy's smart, not making direct threats, just asking questions in an official capacity."
"Thanks for the heads up. Keep me posted?"
"Will do. And Mason? You might want to reconsider the Christmas party tonight. Lot of people, easy for someone to blend in."
The suggestion makes practical sense, but I think of Destiny's excitement last night, her eagerness for a normal Christmas celebration. After everything she's been through, can I really take that away from her?
"We'll be careful," I promise. "Extra eyes on the crowd."
"Your call. I'll have officers present anyway. Just... watch yourselves."
I end the call, mind racing with implications. Greg is getting desperate, sending associates to do his dirty work. How long before he shows up himself? And when he does, what lengths will he go to?
"Everything okay?"
I turn to find Destiny in the doorway, concern written across her face. She's wearing one of my sweaters, the sleeves hanging past her fingertips. The sight of her in my clothes still does something primal to my insides.
"That was Tom," I admit, seeing no reason to lie. "Someone's in town asking about you. Claims to be from the California Department of Education."
Fear flashes across her face. "Greg sent him."
"Probably. Tom gave him nothing, but he's staying at the Mountain View Inn."
"We should leave." Panic edges into her voice. "If they know I'm here—”
"Hey." I cross to her, taking her hands in mine. "We're not running. That's exactly what he wants, to scare you into the open."
"But what if—”
"Tom knows. The sheriff's department is on alert. We have a plan." I squeeze her hands gently. "Trust me, okay?"
She takes a deep breath, visibly calming herself. "I trust you."
The simple statement hits me with unexpected force. After everything she's been through, trust doesn't come easily to her. The fact that she's placing hers in me feels monumental.
"Good." I press my forehead to hers. "Because I'm not about to let anyone hurt you. Not while I'm breathing."
She gives me a shaky smile. "My knight in flannel armor."
"Damn right." I kiss her briefly. "Now, I believe we have a dress to find for tonight."
"We're still going to the party?" Surprise colors her voice.
"Absolutely." I brush a curl from her face. "We can't hide in this cabin forever, and I refuse to let him steal your Christmas joy. We'll be careful, stick together, but we're going to that party."
Her smile is worth any risk. "In that case, I definitely need something to wear."
Sylvie's boutique is Christmas central when we arrive, racks of festive dresses, holiday music playing over the speakers, the owner herself wearing a Santa hat as she arranges a display.
"Mason Walsh!" she exclaims when we enter. "I heard rumors you'd finally been caught."
"News travels fast," I say dryly, keeping Destiny close to my side.
Sylvie winks. "And this must be the lucky lady. I'm Sylvie Chen, proud purveyor of fashion to the discerning women of Whisper Vale."
"Destiny Brooks." Destiny shakes her hand. "We're looking for something for the Christmas party tonight."
"Say no more." Sylvie circles Destiny, appraising her figure. "With those curves and that coloring, we've got plenty of options. What's your style, honey? Sexy? Classic? Whimsical?"
"Um..." Destiny looks to me uncertainly.
"She looks incredible in green," I offer, recalling how the color brings out the gold flecks in her hazel eyes.
Sylvie nods approvingly. "A man who notices. Rare specimen, this one. Hang onto him."
Destiny's hand finds mine, squeezing gently. "I plan to."
While Sylvie pulls dresses for Destiny to try, I scan the street through the boutique windows, hyperaware of our surroundings. No sign of the black Escalade or anyone paying unusual attention to the shop.
"Earth to Mason." Destiny's voice draws me back. "What do you think?"
She stands before me in an emerald-green dress that hugs her curves before flaring at the knees. The neckline reveals just enough cleavage to be enticing without crossing into inappropriate for a community event. She's stunning.
"Wow," is all I can manage.
Sylvie smirks. "I think that's a yes."
"Definitely yes." I finally find my voice. "You're beautiful."
A blush colors Destiny's cheeks. "It's not too much?"
"It's perfect." I cross to her, lowering my voice. "Though I'm going to be fighting off every man in town tonight."
She laughs, the sound easing some of my tension. "Good thing I only have eyes for one."
The admission, spoken casually but with genuine emotion, hits me hard. We're so far beyond pretending, beyond the cover story that brought us together. This is real, whatever name we give it.
Back at the cabin, we spend the afternoon in comfortable domesticity. I catch up on paperwork while Destiny bakes cookies for the party. The scene is so perfectly ordinary, so exactly what I never knew I wanted, that it makes my chest ache.
"What's that look for?" she asks, catching me watching her across the kitchen island.
"Just thinking."
"About?"
"How right you look here." The words escape before I can censor them. "In my kitchen. In my life."
Her expression softens. "It feels right to me too."
The moment is weighted with implications neither of us is quite ready to voice. But I see the truth in her eyes, the same certainty I feel growing in my own heart.
As we get ready for the party that evening, I struggle to reconcile the conflicting emotions within me.
On one hand, fierce protectiveness and lingering concern about Greg's associate in town.
On the other, profound joy at the sight of Destiny in her green dress, excitement about introducing her to more of my community, and the deepening certainty that what we've found together is something rare and precious.
"You clean up nice, Walsh," she comments as I finish buttoning my shirt, dark blue, as she requested, with charcoal slacks and a gray blazer.
"Not too shabby yourself, Brooks." I pull her close for a kiss, careful not to smudge her lipstick. "Ready to dazzle Whisper Vale?"
She loops her arms around my neck. "Ready to dance with my very handsome fake fiancé who's starting to feel a lot like a real one."
The candid admission steals my breath. She holds my gaze, letting me see the vulnerability behind her words. This is Destiny at her most authentic, laying her heart open despite the fear of rejection.
I cup her face in my hands. "Nothing about how I feel about you is fake. Not anymore."
Her eyes shine with emotion. "Me neither."
It's not quite a declaration of love, but it's a step in that direction, an acknowledgment that whatever began as pretense has transformed into something genuine and profound.
As we head to the party, I silently promise both of us that this is just the beginning. That tonight is not just a performance for the town or a distraction from danger, but a celebration of what we're building together.
And if Greg or his associates dare to threaten that, they'll learn exactly what I'm capable of when protecting someone I love.