Three Months Later - Quinn
The cabin smells like coffee, pine, and him.
I walk barefoot across the wooden floor, Luke’s flannel buttoned halfway over the tank top he loves so much. My laptop is open on his kitchen table while the pages I’ve printed lie on the floor. I’m about to type the end, and it feels so good.
Luke’s outside, chopping firewood with his sleeves rolled up despite the temperature dropping to almost single digits.
I wasn’t expecting the cold to be so cold, but inside, there is more than enough heat.
I watch him from the window, thinking how lucky I am, how natural it feels to be here, and how fast it happened.
I moved into Luke’s cabin about a week after he showed up in the city. He spent one night with me in the city and was pacing the floors. I sent him back to the mountains, promising I’d come to him. I could tell he didn’t want to let me go, but I assured him I’d only be running toward him.
We fell into an easy rhythm here. It's not perfect. I’m still stubborn and like to question everything he does.
He likes to tease me about getting me boots that fit.
But this life right now is the most real I’ve ever had.
It’s fun, it's exciting, and it's simple. Mornings with slow kisses and hot coffee before he goes to work. Sometimes, a quickie at lunch if he has a moment in between prepping cabins. If I need inspiration for a scene, he’s very quick to answer the call. And finally, nights that wrap up our new life together. When we’re sitting on the couch or soaking in that claw tub, I know I’ve made the best decision.
I’ve never written better, laughed more, or felt safer.
The door creaks open, and Luke steps inside, cheeks red from the cold.
“I saw you watching me,” he teases, wiping his hands on a towel and walking straight toward me. “Wood turns you on?”
I shrug. “You turn me on.”
He leans in, kissing my forehead, then the corner of my mouth. “Oh, I know. I knew it at three this morning when you were riding my dick.” I snicker and bury my face in his chest. “Listen, I'll never tell you no. If you need to make sure the scene works right, I’m your guy.”
“Hm. The things we do for a good story.”
He laughs and picks me up with ease as I wrap my legs around his waist. “Speaking of. I’ve been thinking of something you can write.
It’s about a guy who meets this girl. She’s a firecracker and doesn’t let him get away with shit.
” He walks me to our bedroom. “But he finally decides to teach her a lesson.”
I scrunch my brows. “A lesson?”
“Oh, yes, Quinn.” His voice is low and seductive. “A hard lesson. One she needs to learn over and over.”
I laugh as he tosses me onto the bed. I throw my arms over my head, and his weight coming down on top of me, his beard tickling my neck, is the best feeling ever. “I am a slow learner. You'd better start now. And take your time.”
He kisses me slowly before he begins to peel my clothes from my body. “We’ve got the rest of our lives to get it right.”
THE END