Sneak Peek - Book 3 Daddy Leif
LEIF
There are too many people in the house, and voices carry from one room to the next. Laughter rises, and the warmth fills every corner and leaves no space untouched.
And yet, through it all, my mind stays focused on one thing… Mara.
I don't need to look for her or ask where she is, because the pull has been there since I carried her out of that place. Her body shook against mine, and her fingers gripped my shirt with a desperation that didn't go away even when we got to safety.
I find her exactly where I expect her to be: standing just outside the dining room, close enough to see everything but not quite stepping into it, as if crossing that line requires something she isn't sure she has yet.
She looks at them. Bjorn and Grace moving around each other with ease that comes from knowing exactly where the other will be without looking. Erik stays close to Claire in a way that is both protective and respectful, and his attention never fully leaves her, even when he talks to someone else.
Mara's arms instinctively draw in, a reflexive action as she absorbs the scene.
It isn't a matter of desire, not at all. Rather, it’s uncertainty, a hesitation.
Her body reacts, as if it understands the scene unfolding before her, but her mind fights to accept that this is actually happening to her.
I walk up to her without saying anything, making sure not to get too close to her. I leave enough space for her to decide whether to close it or keep it.
Her breath catches anyway. "Too much?" I ask, keeping my voice low so that only we can hear it.
A quiet, uneven laugh comes out of her mouth as she keeps looking ahead. "Is it that clear?"
"Only if you know what to look for," I say, letting a hint of warmth come through in the words.
That gets me a brief look; her eyes come up to mine and then go back down, as if she can only handle the contact in small doses.
"They make it look easy," she says after a moment, her voice softer now and more vulnerable. "Like none of the hard parts ever happened."
I say, "They did happen," in a calm, steady voice. "You're only seeing what happened after they decided to fight through them."
She swallows, and I can see how it lands in her. It's not exactly comfort, but it's something she doesn't know how to comprehend yet.
"I don't know how to be... any version of that," she says, and her fingers curl slightly into the fabric at her sides. "I don't even know where to begin."
I turn more fully toward her, but I don't close the space between us. Instead, I anchor myself in it so she has something solid to hold on to if she needs it.
I say to her, "You just need to work on your own mental health journey. Your timeline of healing is not someone else's timeline, just keep moving forward with the progress you’re already making. One day at a time."
Her eyes come up again, this time looking for something, as if she's trying to see if what I'm saying is true instead of just hearing it.
"What am I supposed to be?" she asks with a low voice.
The answer comes right away. Mine.
It settles heavy in my chest, instinctively and with certainty, but I keep it there because saying it now would take something from her that she needs to give freely.
I say instead, "You aren’t supposed to be anything but yourself," my voice calm and steady. "And that is exactly what I want to get to know as long as I can."
Something in her face changes at that, not completely, but enough to make the tension in her shoulders go down a little.
She looks at me for a little longer before asking the question she's been circling since the hospital.
“Why are you doing this?”
I could give her a dozen answers that would make sense in the world she's trying to rebuild.
I say, "Because leaving you was never an option for me," and this time I don't soften it.
Her breath catches; it's quiet but clear. Her hands twist together in a small, unsure motion that says more than anything she could say out loud. I could say more. About the time I saw her name before the rescue. We are the only ones aware of the discovery made in the hospital.
Claire laughs softly at something Erik says in the dining room. She leans into him without thinking or being afraid, and Mara's attention goes back to them, this time for a longer time.
"I want that," she says so quietly that no one else can hear her.
My hand goes up a little, stopping just short of her, leaving the space open and giving without taking. She hesitates, then she moves closer on her own. The movement is so small that you can barely see it, but it changes everything.
"You will," I say to her, my voice steady with a certainty I don't question.
She looks up at me again, something fragile and dangerous flickering behind her eyes. “You sound very sure.” A faint, controlled smile pulls at the corner of my mouth.
“I am,” I answer. Because I've already made up my mind.
"Mara," I say, my voice low and steady.
She stops moving for a moment, and her full attention is back on me. "Yes?"
I hold her gaze, not pressing, not demanding, but not looking away either. "I'm not going anywhere." She opens her mouth as if she might say something, but nothing comes out.
I pull her into my embrace; she doesn't resist, and I smile smugly to myself as I think, 'The Pull takes another one of us Halvorsen men.'
Coming 2027