Chapter 7
seven
. . .
Tessa
I wake to the soft hiss of dying embers and a slight chill in the air. The fire’s burning low, painting the cabin in shades of gold and shadow.
For a second, I don’t remember where I am.
Then it hits me.
Nathan.
Last night.
This morning.
The sound of his steady heartbeat under my cheek now.
My breath catches as the memories rush back—his hands, his voice, the way he consumed me. I should feel guilty, maybe even scared, but all I feel is…love and a stillness I’ve been craving. Like the world finally stopped spinning long enough for me to breathe.
He’s stretched out beside me, the blanket he brought from his bed at some point half falling from his hips. I make note of the soft dusting of gray at his temples, the curve of his jaw where I pressed my lips hours ago.
I should look away. I don’t.
He’s peaceful like this, which feels impossible for a man who seems to carry the weight of the whole town on his shoulders.
I reach out without thinking, brushing my fingers lightly across his arm. His skin is warm, his fingers rough from work. He makes a low sound in his sleep and shifts, reaching for me.
Warmth settles in my chest.
“Morning,” he says, voice rough from sleep.
My stomach flips. “Hey. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He studies me for a long moment, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Not a bad way to wake up.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “So… about last night.”
Nathan sits up slowly and stretches before tending to the fire, adding a few more logs and bringing it back to life before slipping back underneath the blanket beside me. “Yeah. About that.”
I can’t look at him. I don’t regret a thing—but I also don’t know what comes next and I’m afraid to find out. “You probably think it was a mistake.”
He shakes his head. “No. I don’t think it was a mistake. I think it was the realist thing I’ve ever experienced.”
His words undo me. It’s not just what he’s saying, but the way he’s saying it—like a promise he’s too afraid to break.
I lock eyes with him, my heart pounding. “What happens now?”
Nathan pulls me in closer and kisses my forehead.
“Now? I’ll make us some coffee, check the weather report and touch base with DPS on the status of the roads and plows.
Depending on what they say, I’ll dig your car out when the plows come through.
And then we both try to remember that the world exists outside this cabin. ”
“Right,” I whisper. But neither of us moves.
Nathan draws tiny circles over my hip. “Are you sore this morning? The power’s back on, so you should have hot water if you want to soak in the tub. It might help.”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I tell him, smoothing my fingers through his messy hair.
He smiles faintly, eyes half-lidded. “You say that now, but wait until you stand up.”
I laugh under my breath, the sound small in the morning quiet. “You saying you broke me, Chief?”
“Pretty sure you did the breaking, Pope. As usual,” he winks.
We lie there for another moment, the silence between us easy. Outside, the snow’s stopped. Sunlight filters weakly through the frosted windows, and despite last night’s storm, for once, the world doesn’t feel quite so cold.
Eventually, Nathan pushes up from our makeshift bed and pulls on the sweatpants he’d tossed aside last night.
He moves around the cabin, bare-chested, a man of quiet efficiency.
He stokes the fire again, sets the kettle on, and finally checks his phone.
Out of habit, I wonder, or needing the distraction?
I watch him from beneath the blanket, heart tugging at the quiet efficiency of his movements—the way he seems half on duty even when he isn’t.
“You don’t know how to relax, do you?” I tease lightly, pulling the blanket tighter around me.
He glances back at me, eyes dark and amused. “Relaxing when you’re around? Not an option. Relaxing got me stuck cleaning up after stolen goats, sparkler explosions, and runaway parade floats. Some habits die hard.”
I bite my lip, smirking despite the heat crawling up my cheeks. “Some things never change, huh?”
“Nope,” he growls, low and teasing. “Some things, some people—,” he points at me, “are chaos incarnate. And some things, I wouldn’t trade for the world. But if you tell anyone I said that, I will deny it.”
I stand, wrapping his blanket around my shoulders like a robe and padding barefoot across the floor. “Coffee ready yet?”
“Yeah.” He pours two mugs full and hands one to me, fingers brushing against mine. “You take sugar?”
I raise a brow. “Do I look like a sugar person?”
“Yes,” he says, eyes flicking over me slowly, the word somehow heavier than it should be. “Lots and lots of sugar. Probably sweet cream, too,” he smirks.
“Okay. You’re right. Two sugars and extra cream,” I sigh and ignore his dirty innuendo before I end up spread out on the countertop or kneeling at his feet.
Nathan laughs and hands me a sugar shaker, then reaches into the fridge for creamer. “Lucky for you, the power wasn’t out long enough for this to spoil.” He pours some in my cup, then in his.
“Is it weird that I imagined you drinking your coffee bold and black. Like your soul.” I bite my lip and try not to laugh.
He stares at me, mouth agape, until I burst into giggles like a school girl. Why on earth does this man have this kind of effect on me?
“You really can’t give a man a single moment of peace, can you?” He smirks back at me.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
He shakes his head and polishes off his coffee before pulling out a cast-iron skillet. “How about I make us some bacon and eggs?”
I tug the blanket tighter around me. “You cook?”
“Managed not to burn the pizza last night, didn’t I?”
A few minutes later, the sound of bacon sizzling fills the quiet, and I lean against the counter, watching the flex of his back and the easy confidence in how he moves. Everything about him is quiet strength and control, and I can’t decide if it calms me or drives me crazy.
He glances back, catches me watching him, and shakes his head. “You’re staring, Pope.”
“Maybe I just can’t believe I’m here right now,” I say softly.
That earns me a low, warm sound—half laugh, half groan. “Trust me. You’re here.” He sets down the spatula and steps away from the stove long enough to place a kiss on my lips before returning to flip the bacon.
I take a sip of coffee. “You really weren’t expecting to find me in a snowbank last night, were you?”
“Not exactly on my checklist,” he admits. “You scared the hell out of me, Tessa.”
Something in the way he says my name—low, careful—makes my chest tighten. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know,” he says quietly. Then his eyes lift to mine. “But every time I think I’ve got you figured out, you remind me that you don’t do what you’re supposed to.”
I smile into my cup. “Would you like me better if I did?”
His gaze lingers on my mouth before he looks away. “I think that’s the problem. I already like you too much.”
That hits harder than I expect. “You’re not supposed to say things like that.”
“I’m not supposed to do a lot of things,” he murmurs.
He slides a plate toward me a minute later. Bacon, eggs, toast. Simple. Perfect.
I glance toward the window. Sunlight’s already breaking through the clouds. “Looks like it’s letting up.”
“Good,” he says, though he doesn’t sound convinced. “Soon as they clear the main road, I’ll get your car towed.”
There it is—the reminder of the world waiting outside this little cocoon.
I set my mug down, fingers brushing his on the table. “Thank you. For last night. For not…”
“For not what?” he asks, voice low.
“For pretending it didn’t mean something.”
He exhales, slow and rough, and his hand turns over beneath mine, palm up.
“It meant everything,” he says simply. “I meant what I said, Tessa. You’re mine now. I haven’t figured out what that means or how it looks, but I meant every single word.”
And there it is. The promise I wondered if he’d forgotten.
“You really meant that, huh?”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “It’s not like I can do a damn thing about it.”
“Jeez, don’t sound so excited.” I frown.
Nathan wraps his hand around my wrist and tugs me into his lap. “I never said I was good at words, baby.”
“All the lectures you’ve given me over the years say otherwise.”
“You haven’t changed a bit.”
My hands brush over his jaw. “I’ve always enjoyed driving you crazy.”
He shakes his head and lets out a low chuckle. “You’re lucky I love a challenge.”
“I think I love you.” The words slip out of my mouth before I even have a chance to stop myself.
I lock eyes with Nathan, terrified that I may have just blown everything.
Way to go, Tessa!
Nathan blinks slowly, then a wide grin spreads across his face and he nuzzles into the side of my neck. “Fuck, Tessa Pope. I know I love you, baby.”