Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Nathan
The last two weeks with her have been perfect. She’s spent every night in my bed and has become as essential to me as air. I need to tell her how much she means to me and that I never want to be apart.
The cabin smells like fresh cedar shavings and the coffee I brewed an hour ago.
Sunlight pours through the windows in bright, cold streams, bouncing off the snow outside and turning the whole place gold.
I’ve been up since before dawn, working in the shop while Katy slept.
My hands are still dusted with sawdust, my forearms aching from the final sanding, but the small box in my pocket feels heavier than any piece of wood I’ve ever carried.
I made it for her.
A cedar keepsake box with dovetailed corners and a lid inlaid with a thin band of walnut.
Inside rests the pendant I carved over the last two weeks, late nights after she fell asleep, careful cuts and endless sanding until the lines were perfect.
A small mountain peak cradling a rising sun.
Simple. Sturdy. The way I feel when she’s near.
I’ve spent three years telling myself walls were safety.
That letting anyone close meant opening the door to chaos, to hurt, to the kind of noise that once sent me running from the city.
Katy walked right through those walls without even trying.
She laughed too loudly, talked too much, and looked at me like the grumpiest parts of me were worth keeping.
Every time I tried to rebuild the barricade, she just smiled brighter and stayed.
I’m done fighting it.
I’m all in.
The realization settled over me sometime around three this morning while I polished the pendant one last time.
No more half-measures. No more waiting for the other shoe.
I want her here every morning, every night, every cold winter and hot summer.
I want the complication she brings because without it, the quiet isn’t peace anymore. It’s just empty.
She’s still asleep when I walk back into the bedroom.
Curled on her side, dark curls spilling across the pillow, one hand tucked under her cheek.
The blanket has slipped down to her waist, exposing the soft curve of her shoulder and the gentle rise of her breast. My chest tightens so hard I almost can’t breathe.
I set the box on the nightstand, then slide under the covers behind her, careful not to wake her too abruptly. I press my chest to her back, my arm wrapping around her middle, and kiss the nape of her neck.
She stirs. A sleepy hum vibrates through her. “Mmm. Morning already?”
“Morning.” I kiss the spot behind her ear. “Missed you.”
She rolls toward me, blinking up with those green eyes still heavy with sleep. “You’ve been up for hours.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” I brush a curl from her face. “Had something on my mind.”
She studies me, sleepy smile fading into something softer, more serious. “Good something or bad something?”
“Good.” I reach for the box and set it between us. “Open it.”
Her brows lift. She sits up slowly, pulling the blanket around her shoulders, and lifts the lid. When she sees the pendant, her breath catches.
“Nathan…”
“Cedar from the big tree that came down behind the shop last winter,” I tell her, voice quieter than I mean it to be. “Walnut inlay because it’s strong. The carving… that’s us. You’re the sun. I’m the mountain. And together we’re something solid. Something that lasts.”
Her fingers tremble as she lifts the pendant. Tears gather along her lower lashes.
I take a breath, the words I’ve been carrying since the moment I met her are finally ready to come out.
“I love you, Katy.”
She looks up fast, eyes wide.
“I know it’s fast,” I continue before she can speak.
“I know I’m supposed to wait, supposed to play it cool, supposed to pretend I’m not terrified every time you smile at me because I don’t want to lose this.
But I’m done pretending. I fell the second you laughed at that bar.
Every day since has just been me falling harder.
You’re loud and bright, you talk to animals, and you make this quiet life feel alive.
You’re the best thing I’ve ever had, and I don’t want to live without it.
I love you. Completely. Instantly. Irrevocably. ”
Tears spill over now, sliding down her cheeks. She doesn’t wipe them away.
“I love you too,” she whispers. Her voice cracks. “I’ve loved you since the night you made me dinner. Maybe before that. I was scared to say it because I thought it would freak you out, but… God, Nathan. I love you so much it hurts sometimes.”
Relief crashes through me like a wave. I pull her into my arms, kissing her hard, desperate, grateful, full of everything I’ve been holding back.
She kisses me back just as fiercely, hands fisting in my shirt, legs straddling my lap as she climbs on top of me. The blanket falls away. She’s naked beneath it, soft and warm against me. I groan into her mouth, hands sliding up her thighs, gripping her hips.
“I need you,” she breathes against my lips. “Right now.”
I flip us so she’s beneath me, my weight braced on my forearms. She reaches between us, fumbling with the drawstring of my sweatpants, shoving them down just enough to free me. I’m already hard, aching for her. She wraps her hand around me, stroking once, twice, and I hiss through my teeth.
“Condom,” I manage.
She shakes her head. “I’m on the pill. Clean. Please.”
I search her eyes. Find only certainty.
I notch at her entrance and push in, slow at first, savoring the tight, wet heat that surrounds me. She gasps, nails digging into my shoulders. When I’m fully seated, we both pause, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.
“You feel…” I swallow. “So perfect.”
She kisses me, messy, hungry. “Move. Please.”
I do.
The rhythm starts slow, deep, rolling thrusts that make her sigh every time I bottom out.
Then faster. Harder. She wraps her legs around my waist, heels digging into my ass, urging me deeper.
The headboard thumps against the wall. Her nails rake down my back.
I kiss her throat, her jaw, her mouth. The kiss is desperate and claiming.
“I love you,” I growl against her ear. “Love this. Love you.”
“I love you,” she gasps. “So much. Don’t stop.”
I angle deeper, hitting that spot that makes her cry out. One hand slips between us, thumb finding her clit, circling fast and firm. She tightens around me, breath hitching.
“Come for me,” I rasp. “Let me feel you.”
She shatters, back bowing, pulsing hot and tight around me. I follow right after, hips slamming deep one last time, growling her name as pleasure rips through me, spilling inside her in long, shuddering pulses.
We collapse together, sweaty, breathless, tangled. I roll us so she’s draped across my chest, still inside her, softening slowly.
She presses lazy kisses to my collarbone. “I love you.”
I kiss her hair. “I love you too.”
We lie there in the afterglow, listening to the wind move through the pines outside. Bear scratches at the door again, tail thumping.
Katy laughs softly. “He’s jealous.”
“Let him be.” I tighten my arms around her. “You’re mine.”
She lifts her head, smiles that sunshine smile that undoes me every time. “And you’re mine.”
I slip the pendant around her neck. It rests perfectly between her breasts.
“Looks good on you,” I murmur.
She kisses me slowly, sweetly. “Feels good too.”
The rest of the day passes in a soft, happy blur.