Chapter 4
Chapter four
Katy
I wake up smiling before my eyes are even open.
The cabin is still dark, the kind of pre-dawn hush that makes every small sound feel intimate—the soft creak of the logs settling, the faint whistle of wind under the eaves.
My phone is face-down on the nightstand, and I reach for it blindly, heart already doing that stupid fluttery thing it’s been doing since last night.
One new message.
Nathan: Night, Katy. Sweet dreams, sunshine.
Sent at 12:47 a.m.
I grin so wide my cheeks hurt.
I type back before I can overthink it.
Me: Good morning, mountain man. Woke up smiling because of last night. Can’t stop thinking about you. ??
I hit send, then flop back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling beams with a giddy laugh bubbling out. This is ridiculous. One non-date, and I’m already floating. But there’s something about him, steady, quiet, and with just enough edge to make my pulse race. I want more. So much more.
I throw on my robe, walk to the kitchen, and start the coffee maker. While it brews, I text Jess.
Me: FaceTime. Now. Emergency level: Nathan texted me.
The call connects in seconds. Jess’s face fills the screen, her hair in a messy bun, still in pajamas, coffee mug in hand.
“Tell me everything,” she demands, no hello needed. “From the second I ditched you like the hero I am. Did he kiss you? Did he growl? Did he take you home and ravish you on the couch? I need details, Katherine.”
I laugh and settle at the small table by the window, snow dusting the pines outside. “No ravishing. Yet. But, oh my God, Jess. It was magic.”
“Magic? Details, woman!”
I pace the kitchen while I talk, coffee forgotten, telling her everything.
“He almost kissed me,” I whisper, like saying it too loud might jinx it. “Right outside my car. In the snow. And then he just stopped. Looked at me like he was trying to memorize my face. And said goodnight like it hurt him to do it.”
Jess chokes on her sip. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Right?!”
“And then he texted you? Show me.”
I screenshot and send it. She reads, eyes widening. “Katy. He’s hooked. Totally hooked. The man who probably hasn’t dated since flip phones, and he’s texting you to have sweet dreams. That’s code for ‘I can’t stop thinking about you.’”
I feel my cheeks heat. “I texted him good morning this morning.”
Jess cackles. “Oh, he’s done for. You’re his sunshine now. Breaking through all that grump. What’s next? You gonna see him again?”
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes with a new text. I glance down.
Nathan: Morning, sunshine. Glad you’re smiling. I’m still thinking about last night, too. You free tonight? Dinner at my place?
My mouth drops open.
“Katy? Earth to Katy. What’s happening?”
“He just invited me to dinner at his cabin tonight.”
Jess screams so loud that I have to turn the volume down. “Yes! Yes! Oh my God, go! What are you wearing? The green sweater. Definitely the green. It makes your curves pop. And wear the good underwear. Just in case.”
“Jess!”
“What? A girl’s gotta be prepared. This is it. You’re gonna get ravished by the mountain man.”
I laugh, but my stomach flutters at the thought. “I hope so. I’ve been dying to know what his kiss feels like. All night, it’s all I could think about.”
She waggles her eyebrows. “Report back tomorrow. Every detail. And Katy? Be yourself. He likes you. The real you. Loud laugh and all.”
“I will. Thanks for the ambush, by the way. Best worst idea ever.”
“You’re welcome. Now go shave your legs or whatever. Love you!”
“Love you too.”
We hang up, and I sit there staring at Nathan’s text, heart racing. Dinner. At his place. Alone.
Me: Yes! I’d love to. What time? And what can I bring?
Nathan: Six. Just yourself. That’s enough.
I press a hand to my chest, trying to calm the butterflies.
I spend the morning floating. I shower with my fancy vanilla body wash, shave everything just in case, and fix my curls until they’re bouncy and shiny.
I try on three outfits before settling on the green sweater, dark jeans, and the ankle boots that make me feel sexy without trying too hard.
A swipe of pink gloss. Hoop earrings. The pendant necklace that always makes me feel confident.
By 5:45, I’m in the SUV, GPS set to the address he texted, heart pounding.
The road narrows, pines closing in, snow dusting the branches like powdered sugar.
Then the cabin appears—log walls, wide porch, warm golden light spilling from every window, smoke curling from the chimney.
A dog bounds off the steps the second I park, tail wagging furiously.
Nathan steps out behind him, in dark jeans and a black thermal that clings to every line of muscle, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair slightly tousled, as if he just ran his hands through it. He looks nervous and so damn gorgeous.
“Hey,” he says, voice low and warm as I step out of the car.
“Hey.” I smile so wide it hurts. “This place is beautiful.”
“Glad you think so.” He meets me halfway, takes my hand, and squeezes. “Come inside. It’s cold.”
Inside smells like garlic, rosemary, fresh bread, and woodsmoke. The main room is cozy: a stone fireplace crackling, a worn leather couch, and a workbench in the corner with half-finished carvings. Bear greets me properly now, nudging my hand with his wet nose, tail thumping.
Nathan scratches behind the dog’s ears. “He’s been pacing since I told him you were coming.”
I drop to my knees to love on Bear, laughing when he tries to lick my face. “Hi, handsome. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
Nathan watches us, something soft flickering across his face. “He likes you.”
“I like him too.” I stand, brushing dog hair off my jeans. “Smells amazing in here.”
“Hope it tastes as good.” He leads me to the kitchen. A pot simmers on the stove, a loaf of bread cooling on the counter. Two plates are set at the small table by the window. Candles, actual candles, are lit in the middle of the table.
My heart squeezes. “You made all this?”
“Roast chicken. Potatoes. Green beans. Bread from the bakery in town.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Nothing fancy. Just wanted it to be nice.”
“It’s perfect.” I step closer. “You’re perfect.”
He exhales shakily. “Katy…”
I don’t let him finish.
I rise on my toes, slide my hands up his chest, and kiss him.
It’s soft at first—testing, tentative. Then he makes a low sound in the back of his throat and pulls me closer, one arm banding around my waist, the other cupping the back of my neck. His mouth opens over mine. It’s warm, hungry, and tastes like mint and promise.
Every inch of me melts into him.
His kiss is everything I imagined and more. He kisses like he’s been waiting years to do it, and he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.
I press closer, fingers tangling in his hair, moaning softly when his tongue sweeps mine.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
He rests his forehead against mine. “I’ve been thinking about that since last night.”
“Me too.” I kiss the corner of his mouth. “Worth the wait.”
He chuckles—low, rough, real. “Dinner’s gonna burn.”
“Let it.”
He kisses me again, harder this time, backing me against the counter. Hands roam. My sweater rides up. His palms find bare skin. I arch into him, gasping when he lifts me onto the counter, stepping between my thighs.
We’re a mess of heat and want and laughter when the oven timer beeps, shrill and insistent.
He groans against my neck. “Food first.”
I laugh, breathless, happy. “Deal.”
We eat at the small table by the fire. The chicken is tender and flavorful, the potatoes are crispy, and the wine he poured without asking if I wanted any is perfect.
Conversation flows easily. I tell him about a client who wants their website to “feel like a hug,” and he shares a story about Bear chasing a squirrel up a tree and getting stuck barking at it for hours.
We laugh—me loud and bright, him low and real.
After dinner, we do the dishes together, our shoulders brushing, stolen glances turning into stolen kisses.
When the last plate is put away, he takes my hand. “Walk with me? Outside? Before it gets too dark.”
“Yes.”
We bundle up and step into the crisp air. Snow crunches under our boots as we wander a short trail behind the cabin, stars pricking through the twilight. His hand in mine feels right. Steady.
Under a cluster of pines, he stops, turns me to face him. “I’m glad you came.”
“Me too.” I rise on my toes, kiss him gently. “This is the best date I’ve ever had.”
He smiles full, unguarded. “Yes, it is.”
My heart soars as we walk back to his cabin, hand in hand, the night full of promise.