Chapter 43
Easton
The storm was closing in, covering Wildwood Meadows with quiet snowflakes. Inside, everything felt perfect—from the hum of the fridge to the smell of fresh wood, especially the woman beside me.
Maggie had told me not to let my fears or Lila’s get in the way. Her advice had been to step forward when she stepped back, and I’d been trying hard to remember that. I owed Maggie all the credit. It wasn’t a surprise that her advice led me on the right path.
Lila stood at the edge of the counter, her fingers tracing the smooth grain of the butcher block like she was memorizing it.
Her hair had come loose from her typical ponytail, and now it curled around her shoulders.
There was just a faint flush on her cheeks that made my chest ache.
When Levi and Maggie had taken me in, I’d tried really hard to make it my home, but it wasn’t until Lila that it truly felt like one.
“Show off some skills, huh?” she teased, the corner of her mouth curving as she leaned back against the counter. “You are pretty good with those hands.”
I moved in close enough that the warmth between us started to hum. “I was thinking about showing off my cooking skills,” I said, voice low. “Gotta take care of my girl.”
“Sure,” she murmured, eyes flicking up. “That’s what you meant.”
Her breath caught when I reached past her in the refrigerator to start pulling out the ingredients for dinner. Our bodies brushed just enough to make her shiver. I wasn’t in any rush. I wanted to draw this out.
“Don’t you worry, sugar.” I brushed a finger along the back of her neck. “You’ll be seeing those too, but I figured we could use something warm with the weather outside,” I said.
She didn’t move away when I turned on the stove. Her voice was softer now. “You’ll stay with me tonight?”
I looked over my shoulder. “You better believe it. I’m not going anywhere.”
The truth was, I didn’t want her anywhere without me, not with Derek still a shadow in the dark, not with the snow coming down the way it was. But there was more to it than that. I wanted her here, safe and close enough to touch for so many reasons.
Lila came around to my side, watching as I worked. Her hand brushed my arm once, twice (not by accident), and when I looked down, her gaze was already waiting for mine.
“You made this kitchen perfect,” she said softly. “It feels like Grams again, but also like something new. Like…” She hesitated. “Like the bad stuff never happened.”
“Then I succeeded,” I said.
The words landed heavier than I expected. She turned toward me, close enough now that her hip bumped mine. Outside, the wind rattled a little against the windows, but in here, it was just the steady rhythm of her breath and the low hiss of the burner.
“East,” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For not giving up on me.”
Her voice had a break in it that hit right behind my ribs.
This whole damn mess had made me really reflect on my reasons for running away from here after Levi had died.
There was that healthy fear I had of abandonment.
I knew that about myself, and I had to accept that unexpected things happened in life.
I’d lost years with my family because I was afraid to stay.
There was no way I’d let that happen with Lila.
I’d hold onto her with both hands. Giving up wasn’t an option.
“I told you,” I said quietly. “You’re not getting rid of me.”
She laughed, soft and watery, and when I leaned in, she didn’t hesitate. Her lips met mine slowly and confidently, tasting like something I hadn’t realized I’d been starving for.
When I pulled back, her forehead stayed against mine. “You know you feel like the first calm I’ve had in years,” I said, my voice rough.
“I like that,” she admitted.
“So tell me all about what’s coming up for book club while I make our dinner,” I prompted while I started on the spaghetti sauce.
It wasn’t going to be fancy, but it was one of the solid things that I could whip together that wasn’t complicated, and it always came out good.
I gave the onions, garlic, and celery a little stir.
She hummed a little, something I noticed she did when she was thinking. “Well, I’ve got a different sort of book this month. Janice was after me for something like Ruby Dixon’s Ice Planet Barbarians series, but I don’t think the club is ready for those discussions.” She huffed a little laugh.
“What are they about?” Tilting some spices into the pan, I watched her as she explained the books and all about breed kink. “Wow, sounds like they would be racy for book club. I can only imagine the costumes.”
Without skipping a beat, she rattled on about the ideas she had for costumes for those titles, not noticing how I adjusted myself a little just thinking about the idea.
Trying for a distraction, I opted for a safer topic.
“So, what book did you pick if not the alien one? Not that I don’t want to hear about the spicy book. ” I gave her a sly smirk.
“It’s a little safer, but really good. I think people will be into it.
It’s all about female code breakers in World War II.
There’s a bit of a mystery to it. These three women become friends, but they’re all from totally different lives.
It’s a cool story.” She gave me a little grin.
“I’ll confess that one of the reasons that I picked it was that I really wanted an excuse to make a ton of scone flavors, and I loved the idea of all the little clues that I could do. ”
God, I loved the way her brain worked. Her nose scrunched up when she was thinking, and she talked with her hands. She was adorable.
“Sounds like a good book. Are you going to order me a copy?” I let the ground beef sizzle and randomly moved it around while I chatted over my shoulder.
Before Lila, I hadn’t read a book since high school.
I read Jurassic Park mainly to join the book club, participate in the discussion, and hang out with Maggie.
Now? Well, I was a little hooked. Not just on Lila, but I genuinely enjoyed meeting up with the people from town and talking about something.
I didn’t really care what the book was. More than that, I enjoyed everyone’s enthusiasm.
“I have a copy for you. You can also get it on audio from the library if you want to listen to it in your truck while you’re going back and forth to jobs or helping out at Kipp’s place.”
Oh, I liked that idea. Sometimes I didn’t always have time to sit down, so a little flexibility in my reading options would be great. “That’d be awesome.”
After about thirty minutes, I dished up our pasta and garlic bread, and we hunched over our plates while she told me all about the matchstick challenge she had planned and the hints she’d been leaving around the store on the postcards.
“So, everyone just lets you pick the title every month?” I twirled up another bite and shoved it in my mouth.
She nodded. “I do a questionnaire every once in a while, but everyone is pretty content to let me do my thing. People can skip a month if they don’t like a choice.
Initially, I’d occasionally receive a few complaints, but I made it clear that I’d be willing to suggest optional titles.
The whole book club is just supposed to be for fun anyway. ”
“Well, I think you’ve succeeded. I didn’t expect to like it so much. Coming from someone who doesn’t really read.” She clasped a hand over her heart like she’d been stabbed. Laughing at her, I added, “Honestly, it surprises me how much I look forward to book club night.”
“Just for the experience of the meeting?” she fluttered her eyelashes.
“Mmmm, maybe.” I set my fork down. “You finished, sugar? How about I build a fire in that woodstove?”
“That sounds good.”
She wiggled a little bit, a blush spreading up over her cheeks, and I smirked to myself as she helped me carry the plates to the kitchen, taking the time to press a kiss against the curve of her neck. Damn, she smelled so good.
The snow had picked up again since we’d come home, and the skies were fully dark. Heavy flakes drifted past the kitchen window, slow and silent, blanketing the yard. The world outside glowed a pale blue in the streetlights.
She stood at the sink, rinsing dishes she didn’t have to, her curls escaping down her neck. Every few seconds, she glanced toward the window, then back to me, like she was trying to remind herself she was home.
In no time, I had a good-looking fire going in the woodstove, which had to be original to the house; it was so old.
It was in good working order, though. Checking the dampers to see how the logs were burning, I eased back on my heels to watch them for a few minutes, making sure they caught properly.
Over the last few days, I split some wood at Kipp’s and brought down half a cord, stacking it in Lila’s wood shed since it was low.
Now, with the snow settling in, I was glad I had.
Earlier, I called to check on Maggie, and thankfully, Kipp drove down to stay and help bring in wood and whatever else the storm might bring.
Satisfied with my fire, I latched the door and moved back to the kitchen.
It hit me all at once—this image of her, standing in the space I’d rebuilt. Every cut of wood, every nail, every late night had been worth it for this moment.
“You’re staring,” she murmured, not turning around. Her eyes met mine in the reflection over the sink. Her voice was low, soft enough to blend with the sound of running water.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Can’t seem to help it. I’ll dry.”
When she finally looked back at me, her lips curved into a smile. “Oh, really? Is that what you had planned?”
I crossed the room slowly. That wasn’t what I had planned at all. I wanted a taste of her.
“I have to open early in the morning. The sidewalks—”
“I’ll get up and take you. Then I’ll handle the sidewalks. I’ll shovel them,” I said. “You’ll do your shop stuff. Bake and all that fancy stuff.”
That earned me a soft laugh. “Fancy stuff.”
“Maybe. But I’m also right.” My hands found her hips, steadying her when she started to turn. “You’ve been running on empty, sugar. Let somebody else take care of things for once.”
Her breath caught. I could feel it, the hitch in her chest as she tilted her head up. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not easy to let go,” I said. “But it’s worth it.”
For a moment, we didn’t move. The only sound was the snow whispering against the windows and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat where she pressed against me. Then she reached up, fingers sliding over my jaw, tracing the line of stubble there before brushing across my lips.
“East…” My name was half a sigh, half a promise.
I bent and kissed her, slow this time—no rush. Just the deep, lingering kind that felt like it could undo both of us if we weren’t careful. She melted against me, her hands finding my chest, gripping like she needed to hang on.
Her body fit perfectly against mine, and I let my hands move over her curves, groaning as she bowed closer to me. That softness of hers against me nearly brought me to my knees.
When the kiss broke, she stayed close, breathing me in. “You rebuilt my house,” she whispered. “And I think maybe we were meant to be together. Is that weird?”
“Well, you are a little weird.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “But I’m going to keep you. Don’t run anymore. Because I’m going to chase you down every damn time.”
“I won’t,” she said.
Outside, the snow kept falling, thick and steady, muting the rest of the world. In here, the only thing that existed was her heartbeat under my hands, the sound of her breath, the way she looked at me like she finally believed we might be safe.
I lifted her into my arms and carried her toward the fire, the house glowing around us like something brand new.