Chapter 42
The big maple was older than any of us, roots sunk deep, bark scarred with time. It stood at the center of my property like it had been waiting for me, waiting for tonight.
We pitched camp beneath its canopy, the fire crackling low, sparks lifting toward the stars.
I sat cross-legged on a blanket, letting the sounds of the nearby creek soothe me.
I should’ve been exhausted, wrung out from finishing the draft and sending it off, but instead I felt wired, my body alive with something I couldn’t name.
Brody leaned back on his elbows beside me, one boot crossed over the other, firelight licking the edges of his jaw and painting his hazel eyes gold. He looked like he belonged here, like the forest bent itself around him.
“It feels… strange,” I admitted, staring into the flames. “Finishing the draft. It feels like I set something down I’d been carrying forever. But now that it’s gone, I keep reaching for it like I forgot I’m not supposed to hold it anymore.”
He didn’t laugh. He didn’t tell me I was overthinking. He just nodded, slow, thoughtful. “That’s how finishing anything important feels. Like you’ve carved out a piece of yourself and sent it walking into the world.”
I huffed a laugh, tugging my sweater tighter around me. “Yeah. Like a piece of me is out there, naked and unprepared.”
Brody’s mouth curved, just a little. “It’s not naked. It’s your voice. Stronger than you think.”
The words caught somewhere deep inside me. I had to look away, out toward the shadows where the firelight didn’t reach.
“What about you?” I asked quickly. “What’s been taking up your headspace?”
He shrugged, picking up a stick and nudging at the embers. “Orders keep stacking up. Big ones. I’m proud of it, but if it keeps going like this, I’ll need my own shop. I can’t keep running everything out of Dad’s barn forever.”
I smirked before I could stop myself. “You could always build one here.”
The stick stilled in his hand. He looked up slowly, eyes locking with mine. For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe.
“Here,” he repeated.
Heat climbed my neck. “I mean, if I build a house here, I’ll need furniture. Shelves. A desk. You’d have a permanent customer. Plus… you’d be close.” My voice trailed off. Too raw. Too honest.
What the fuck was I saying?
He set the stick down and sat up, brushing his palms on his jeans. Then he leaned across the small space between us until we were eye-level.
“Cass.”
My chest tightened at the way he said my name, low and steady, like a vow.
He reached out, fingers brushing a strand of hair from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear. His thumb skimmed just under my bottom lip, featherlight, and my whole body went still. My breath stuttered. I closed my eyes, waiting, aching, for his mouth to claim mine...
But it didn’t come.
When I opened them, his grin was soft, dangerous. “I’m not going to kiss you.”
The disappointment must’ve flashed across my face because his grin widened. He leaned in just enough for me to feel the heat of his breath across my lips. “Yet.”
Something trembled inside me, equal parts relief, ache, and frustration.
“Cassidy,” he said, voice thick now, thumb still hovering at my mouth. “I’m not looking for something quick. I think I’ve always known... if this ever happened between us, it would be a forever kind of love. That we would both need to be ready for what that would mean.”
I froze, because forever was dangerous. Forever was what Andrew had promised me, what he had dangled like a glittering prize until it shattered in my hands.
My throat tightened, old panic whispering that I wasn’t built to trust forever again.
That I wasn't worth that kind of love. But Brody didn’t flinch, didn’t back off.
He nodded slightly, as if he saw me; he saw what just ran through my mind.
“So I won’t rush you,” he continued. “I won’t push. Not until you’re ready for me. For us.”
My lips parted, but before I could say anything, he pressed a finger lightly against them, silencing me.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he added, a groan low in his chest. “I want you. Christ, I want you. You don’t know how many times I’ve had to take care of myself before seeing you, just so I wouldn’t lose my patience.
” His jaw clenched, eyes burning into mine.
“But I don’t want a night. I don’t want a fling.
I want all of it, Cass. All of you. I want to do this right. ”
The air between us pulsed, fire crackling behind him, my heart beating so loud it hurt. The words he was saying seemed so big, but I understood them. We had known each other our whole lives; we weren't strangers stumbling into something.
“I want to date you,” he said, softer now.
“To court you, if you want to call it that. I want us to know, without doubt, that this is real. That we’re ready.
” His voice dropped, sure and steady. “When I kiss you for the first time, it’ll be because we both know it is exactly what we want.
And when I make love to you… It’ll be that.
Making love. Not fucking. Not taking. But giving. Building.”
The intensity in his hazel eyes was so much. He studied me for another long moment, letting his words sink in, letting me understand what he was saying, asking for.
"So, Cassidy, tonight let me hold you beneath the stars. Then every day after, let me show you how life could be with me."
I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to hold the weight of what he was laying at my feet. All I managed, muffled around his finger, was, “Okay.”
He groaned again when his finger dipped into my mouth as my lips moved, tipping his head back with a laugh that sounded half-strangled.
We didn’t kiss. We didn’t cross that line.
He just pulled me against him beneath the blankets, his arm heavy and secure around me, his chest a solid wall at my back.
He held me like I was something breakable but worth keeping safe.
We talked until words blurred into warmth and firelight, and when sleep finally took me, I wasn’t afraid of it.
The next morning smelled like ash and coffee. We sat side by side on the blanket, enamel mugs warming our hands while the sun crept through the branches. The world felt new, washed clean.
We walked the stretch near the creek, marking some new areas to explore, building near.
I found myself watching him more than the land, memorizing the way his shirt clung across his shoulders, the way he pointed out things he thought I’d care about, like where wildflowers would bloom naturally in the spring.
As we circled back, he brushed his hand against mine, casual, nothing forced. "Adam was telling me about this steakhouse that opened up recently. I was wondering if you'd like to go to dinner with me on Wednesday."
I smiled, unable to hide it. “So… another date?”
His answering grin was all promise. “Yeah, Morgan. Another date.”
I could feel the blush creep across my chest, up my neck and spread across my cheeks. "That sounds great, I'd love to."
“We are going to do this right, I will pick you up, declare my intentions with your family and take you out,” he said.
My smile couldn't get any bigger, he wanted to tell my family.
“And next weekend," He continued, like he hadn't just said the thing to calm my racing nerves with the simple act of not wanting to keep us hidden, even though this could complicate his relationship with Chase, with my family. "We’ll camp on the ridge and watch the sunset. You need to see how the light falls there before you decide where to build.”
He kept talking about his plans for dating me, we kept walking, and I kept smiling. Every step felt lighter, like the earth beneath my boots already knew it was holding the beginnings of a life I hadn’t dared to dream of.