Epilogue
GAVIN
Aidan’s laugh is the kind of sound that rewires a man.
It’s high and bright and completely unbothered by the fact that the world is full of monsters. He’s sitting on the living room rug in my cabin—our cabin now—chewing on a rubber moose like he’s preparing for a long winter and needs to stockpile calories.
Kayley sits cross-legged beside him, hair in a messy bun, wearing one of my shirts and one of my flannels like she owns both.
She does.
She looks up at me over the rim of her coffee mug, eyes warm, and I feel that familiar punch in my chest.
Happiness.
It’s still strange. Still new. Like I’m waiting for someone to tell me I’m not allowed to have it. But no one’s taking it.
I lean against the doorway and watch them for a second longer than I probably should. Kayley catches me staring and smirks.
“What?” she asks.
I shrug. “Just making sure you’re real.”
“Unfortunately for you,” she says, voice sweet but smug, “I’m very real. And I’m about to make you do dishes.”
Aidan squeals like he approves of this plan.
I push off the doorway and walk in, crouching to scoop him up. He immediately grabs my beard with both fists like it’s a rope and yanks. “Buddy,” I grunt, trying not to laugh. “That’s attached.”
Kayley laughs, reaching to pry his fingers loose. “He thinks you’re his personal jungle gym.”
“He’s not wrong,” I say, and kiss his cheek anyway.
Aidan smells like baby lotion and syrup because Kayley has officially made “Saturday pancake mornings” a thing at Haven 7, and the men act like they’re annoyed by it while still showing up suspiciously on time.
Life’s different now.
Not easier.
Different.
Because even when the cabin is warm and the baby is laughing and Kayley is smiling at me like I’m her whole world, there’s still a file open in my head.
Mark Renshaw.
Missing.
On the run.
And it eats at me.
We’ve had the FBI field office combing through leads. We’ve had Silas pulling favors and digging in places that don’t show up on paper. We’ve had Wyatt tracing money trails until his eyes go bloodshot. We’ve run plate scans, searched properties, flagged bank movements, hit old contacts.
Nothing.
Renshaw vanished like smoke.
That’s not an accident.
That’s someone with help.
Kayley notices the shift in me before I even speak. She always does now. “You’re doing the thing,” she says softly.
I glance at her. “What thing?”
“The brooding.” She gestures toward my face. “You get that look like you’re about to go fight a bear with your bare hands.”
I snort. “I don’t brood.”
She gives me the look. The one that says I’m cute but wrong. “Gavin. You were built for brooding.”
Aidan smacks my chest with his moose, like he’s agreeing.
I kiss the top of Kayley’s head. “I’m fine.”
She leans into me, and her voice drops. “No leads on Mark?”
I shake my head once.
Her fingers curl lightly around my wrist. “He’ll show up.”
“He will,” I agree, but my tone is hard. “And when he does, we finish it.”
Kayley’s eyes lift to mine. There’s no fear there anymore. Not like before. She’s still careful, still protective of Aidan in a way that makes sense, but she’s steadier now.
Because she believes in us.
In Haven 7.
In me.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she says quietly, like she knows my mind is already preparing for war.
I soften, pressing my mouth to her temple. “Good. Because neither am I.”
Aidan fusses in my arms, squirming until I put him down again. He crawls toward his blanket fort—yes, Kayley made a blanket fort for him, and yes, it’s absurdly adorable—and disappears inside like he’s got important baby business.
Kayley watches him, smiling. Then she looks back at me, expression turning mischievous. “So,” she says, “how long until you admit you enjoy being domesticated?”
I arch a brow. “Domesticated?”
She points toward the corner where there’s a stack of baby toys, a diaper bag hanging neatly on a hook, and a tiny pair of socks draped over the back of the couch like a surrender flag. “This is not the cabin of a lone wolf.”
I glance around and realize she’s right.
There are signs of them everywhere. Proof that I’m not alone. And I don’t want to be.
I step closer, hooking a finger under her chin. “I’m not domesticated.”
Kayley smiles. “Mm-hmm.”
“I’m… strategically reallocated.”
She laughs, leaning into my touch. “Sure, Commander.” Hearing her call me that still does something to me—something warm and possessive and proud. Like she trusts me with the title and the man underneath it.
I’m about to kiss her when the radio on the counter crackles.
Rhett’s voice comes through, clipped and irritated. “Messer. You got a minute?”
Kayley’s smile turns into a smirk. “Uh-oh.”
I grab the radio. “Go ahead.”
“Silas found something,” Rhett says. “Not Renshaw. But… adjacent.”
My body goes still. “Explain.”
A pause. Then Rhett’s voice drops. “There’s chatter about a ‘clean-up crew’ moving through neighboring counties. Same pattern—missing reports, altered paperwork. Someone’s smoothing the edges.”
My jaw tightens. “Renshaw’s people.”
“Or the people protecting him,” Rhett says. “Either way, it’s not over.”
Kayley’s hand slides into mine, squeezing once. Steadying.
I glance at her, and she nods like she already knows what I’m thinking.
Family first.
Always.
“Keep digging,” I tell Rhett. “But don’t move without me. Not yet.”
Rhett exhales, like he doesn’t love being told to wait. “Copy. Also—Chase is trying to teach Poppi to high-five.”
I blink. “That’s not a crime.”
“It should be,” Rhett says flatly. “She’s going to start saluting him next.”
Kayley snorts, covering her mouth like she’s trying not to laugh too loud and wake Aidan.
I feel my mouth twitch. “Handle it.”
“I am handling it,” Rhett deadpans. “By requesting immediate reassignment.”
I end the call and look at Kayley. “Apparently Chase has started a baby militia.”
Kayley grins. “Good. We’ll need a tiny army when Aidan learns to walk.”
Aidan chooses that moment to poke his head out of the blanket fort and grin like he heard his name.
I crouch, holding my arms open. “Come here, kid.”
He crawls toward me fast, wobbling with determination.
My chest tightens again.
This is my life now.
Warm cabin. Baby giggles. A woman who makes flannel look like lingerie. A found family down the mountain in the lodge, arguing about coffee and diapers and perimeter lines. And somewhere out there, a dirty cop is running. He hasn’t disappeared.
He’s just waiting.
Which means we’re waiting too.
Kayley moves behind me and wraps her arms around my shoulders, resting her cheek against my back. “Hey,” she murmurs.
“Hey,” I answer.
“I love you,” she says, like it’s the simplest fact in the world.
I reach back and squeeze her hand. “I love you too.” And I do. More than anything.
Aidan crawls into my lap, then leans back against my stomach with a satisfied sigh like he belongs here.
Because he does.
So does Kayley.
I’m done with empty cabins and ghosts.
Outside, the snow falls soft and steady. Inside, the world is exactly what I fought for. And if Mark Renshaw ever decides to step back into it? He’s going to learn something the hard way: Haven 7 doesn’t just rescue people.
It keeps them. Protects them.
And Rhett’s going to be the one to hunt him down. Because the way Rhett’s voice sounded on the radio wasn’t frustration.
It was focus.
It was that quiet, lethal edge that means he’s already tracking the problem like prey.
Which means the next time the mountain gets loud… it won’t be because we’re running.
It’ll be because we’re coming.
The end.
Thank you so much for reading Commander Daddy! Want more of Gavin and Kayley’s story? CLICK HERE for a steamy scene!!
Keep reading for a sneak peek of Rhett’s story in Recon Daddy: CLICK HERE to preorder!
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