Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
DEVLIN
Waking up without Atlee isn’t my favorite thing to do. I missed the hell out of her last night, but I know it’s important that she has time with her sister, just like it’s important for me to have time with my brothers where we aren’t stressing over Noah and Richard.
Glancing at the clock, it’s way too early to be up after drinking the night before, but I know I’m not going to be able to sleep any longer. Going into the kitchen, I greet Cookie. “Morning.”
“Morning to you too. Are you staying for breakfast?”
“Nah, I think I’m heading home after I grab some coffee. There are a few things I wanted to get done today.”
I’ve been thinking about building a couple of shelving units so that Atlee has a place to put her stuff when I ask her to move in with me. I just hope she says yes.
Cookie nods and pours hot liquid into a to-go cup. “Fix it up however you want it.”
“Prefer it black. Thank you.” I tip the cup to him.
“Not a problem. I’ll let everyone know that you left if you want me to?”
I nod and take a healthy drink. “Appreciate it, Cookie. See ya later.”
Walking out to my truck, I shiver, realizing I should’ve brought my jacket. I get in and wait for the engine to warm up enough for me to leave.
The drive home is peaceful, the kind of quiet that settles into your bones.
The sun is just starting to peek over the mountains, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink.
It’s the kind of morning that reminds me why I came back to Grizzly River, why this place will always be home no matter how far I roam.
As I turn down the long driveway that leads to my cabin, something in my chest loosens.
There it is, my place. Not grand like the main house, not fancy by any stretch, but mine.
Built with my own two hands, every board and design was my own choice, with no one telling me when I had to do things, or that they had to be a certain way.
It’s been my expression of creativity since I started working on it.
I pull up to the cabin and sit for a moment, just looking at it.
When I came back from the military, I was a mess.
Nightmares kept me up at night, and the smallest sounds would set me off.
I needed space, needed walls that belonged only to me, a place where I could breathe without feeling like I was being watched or judged.
Jesse understood, even if he didn’t like it. He gave me this little parcel of land without question, helped me clear it, and then stepped back and let me do the rest on my own. I designed this place to be a sanctuary, somewhere quiet where I could put myself back together.
Never once did I think it would become a home for two.
But now I can’t imagine it any other way. Atlee fits here like she was always meant to be part of it. Her laughter fills the empty corners, and her scent mingles with the cedar and pine. It’s not just my sanctuary anymore. It’s ours.
I grab my coffee and head inside, letting the familiar smells wash over me. The wood from the walls, the spice of the candles that Atlee likes to burn—it smells like home in a way it never did when it was just me.
Setting my coffee on the counter, I head to the spare room where I keep my tools. I’ve got most of what I need for the shelving units, and what I don’t have, I can improvise. I’ve been doing that my whole life.
I haul the lumber I’d stashed in there out to the living room, lay it all out on the floor, and start taking measurements.
I want to make sure these shelves fit perfectly in the bedroom, right next to the closet.
Someplace Atlee can put all those little bottles and jars women seem to collect, plus room for whatever else she wants to bring over.
If she says yes, that is.
The thought of her saying no makes my hands still for a moment. What if she thinks it’s too soon? What if she’s not ready to give up her independence? What if…
I shake my head, forcing the doubts away. Can’t live life asking “what if.” If there’s one thing the military taught me, it’s that you make your move and deal with the consequences as they come. No use worrying about things you can’t control.
Besides, she loves me. She told me so herself, right out there on the back porch under the stars, and I believe her. I have to believe her, because the alternative is unthinkable.
I work steadily through the morning, measuring twice, cutting once, just like my dad taught me.
The physical labor feels good, keeps my mind focused on something other than Noah and Morrison and all the shit hanging over our heads.
For a few hours, I can just be a man building something for the woman he loves.
By early afternoon, I’ve got the main frames built for both units. Five shelves each, solid pine that’ll last for years. I just need to sand them down, stain them to match the bedroom furniture, and mount them on the wall. Not bad for a day’s work.
I’m so caught up in sanding the rough edges that I don’t hear the car pulling up outside. The front door opens, and I look up to see Atlee standing there, a smile spreading across her face as she takes in the mess I’ve made of our living room.
“What’s all this?” she asks, setting her bag down by the door and picking her way through the sawdust and wood scraps to reach me.
I set aside the sandpaper, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “Just doing some upgrades to the cabin.”
She raises an eyebrow, surveying the half-finished shelving units. “Looks like more than just some upgrades to me.”
I rub the back of my neck, sawdust falling from my hair. “Yeah, well…I thought it was time to make some changes around here.”
She comes closer, running her fingers along the smooth wood of one of the frames. “What kind of changes?”
This is it. The moment I’ve been building toward all day. My heart hammers against my ribs, but I force myself to meet her gaze.
“Shelving units,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Figured you’d need somewhere to put your stuff if…if you decided to move in. Permanently, I mean.”
Her hand stills on the wood, her eyes widening slightly. “Are you asking me to move in with you? Like, officially?”
I swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah, I am. I know it’s fast, and I know with everything going on with Noah and Morrison, the timing might not be ideal, but…I want this, Atlee. I want you here with me. Every day.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her expression unreadable, and my stomach drops. Shit. It is too soon. I’ve pushed too hard, too fast.
But then her face breaks into the most radiant smile I’ve ever seen. “Yes!” she screams, launching herself at me.
I barely have time to open my arms before she’s there, legs wrapping around my waist, arms around my neck. I stagger back a step from the impact but hold her tight, her weight solid in my arms.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she says between kisses, her lips finding mine, my cheek, my jaw, anywhere she can reach. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”
Relief floods through me, so intense it’s almost painful. I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in, this woman who’s become my whole world in such a short time.
“I love you,” I whisper against her skin. “God, Atlee, I love you so much.”
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I love you too, Devlin. More than I ever thought possible.”
I carry her over to the couch, carefully navigating around the lumber and tools scattered across the floor. We sink down together, her still in my lap, neither of us willing to let go just yet.
“I missed you last night,” I tell her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I missed you too,” she admits, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. “Lennon’s pull-out couch has nothing on sleeping next to you.”
I laugh softly. “Glad to hear it.”
She glances over at the shelving units, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “So you built those for me? Today?”
“Started them,” I correct her. “Still need to finish sanding and staining them, then mount them on the wall.”
“I can’t believe you did all this,” she says, wonder in her voice. “Built these with your own hands, just for me.”
I shrug, a little embarrassed by her obvious admiration. “It’s not a big deal. Just wanted you to have space for your things.”
“It is a big deal,” she insists. “No one’s ever…no one’s ever made room for me like this before.”
The vulnerability in her voice hits me right in the chest. I know enough about her childhood to understand what she’s really saying. No one’s ever wanted her enough to build something just for her, to carve out space in their life specifically with her in mind.
“Well, get used to it,” I tell her, trying to keep my tone light despite the emotion swelling in my throat. “Because I plan on making room for you in every part of my life, for as long as you’ll have me.”
Her eyes soften. “That might be a very long time, Devlin Nelson.”
“I’m counting on it,” I say, pulling her closer for a kiss.
She responds eagerly, her body melting against mine, her hands sliding into my hair. I lose myself in her—the softness of her lips, the sweet scent of her skin, the little sounds she makes in the back of her throat when I deepen the kiss.
When we finally break apart, both breathing harder, she rests her forehead against mine. “When can I start moving my things over?”
“Whenever you want,” I tell her. “Tomorrow, next week…hell, we could go get some of your stuff right now if you’re that eager.”
She laughs. “I kind of am. Is that pathetic?”
“Not at all,” I assure her, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose. “It’s exactly how I feel too.”
She snuggles closer, her head finding that perfect spot on my shoulder like it was made to fit there. “I should probably give notice at my apartment. And figure out what to do with my furniture.”
“We can store anything you want to keep,” I offer. “Or sell it, donate it. Whatever you want.”
“I don’t need much,” she says thoughtfully. “Most of it was just temporary stuff anyway. Things to fill the space until I found something that I really liked. A lot of it was from thrift stores, and I paid next to nothing for it.”
The simplicity of her statement hits me hard. That’s exactly what this cabin was for me too—a temporary sanctuary, a place to heal and hide until I figured out what came next. Neither of us realized that what came next would be each other.
“We can take our time,” I tell her, running my hand up and down her spine. “No rush. You can bring over whatever makes this feel like home to you.”
She lifts her head, looking around the cabin with new eyes. “It already feels like home,” she says softly. “Because you’re here.”
Something fierce and protective swells in my chest. Whatever happens with Noah and Morrison, whatever trouble comes our way, I will keep this woman safe. I will protect what we’ve built together—this fragile, beautiful thing that somehow sprouted in the ruins of both our pasts.
“I was thinking,” I say, threading my fingers through hers. “Maybe we could fix up the back porch a bit more. Add some string lights, maybe a swing for the summer.”
Her whole face lights up at the suggestion. “I’d love that.”
“And maybe we could plant some flowers come spring,” I continue, warming to the idea of building a future with her, project by project. “Or even a small vegetable garden, if you’re interested in that sort of thing.”
“I’ve always wanted to grow tomatoes,” she admits, a shy smile playing at her lips. “And maybe some herbs for cooking.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” I promise her. “This place is ours now, Atlee. We can make it whatever we want it to be.”
She kisses me then, soft and sweet, full of promise. “Our home,” she whispers against my lips. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me too,” I whisper back, holding her close, this woman who’s somehow become my future, my heart, my everything.
Outside, the world keeps turning. Noah and Morrison are still out there, still plotting. Our troubles aren’t over. But in this moment, with Atlee in my arms and plans for our future taking shape between us, none of that seems to matter quite as much.
We’ve found something worth fighting for. I’ll be damned if anyone rips it from me.