Chapter 14
Rob
I’ve been working on my family home since I got back.
After paying Reg his half—yeah, I insisted, even when he told me not to—I started rebuilding the place from the ground up.
Not patching.
Not fixing.
Rebuilding.
Because if I was going to come back here, if I was going to put down roots…
It had to be solid.
It had to be mine.
“Wow,” Hadley whispers beside me.
And my Tiger—he damn near purrs in satisfaction.
I glance at her, catching the way her eyes move over the house, taking it all in.
The fresh wood shingles, the clean lines, the sturdy wraparound porch.
“Thanks,” I say, a little rougher than I mean to. “Just finished sanding the shingles yesterday. Gonna paint and seal them next. Fence too. Then I’ll tackle the yard.”
She turns to me, eyes wide.
“Wait—you did all this?” she asks. “But it looks brand new.”
I shrug one shoulder.
“Practically had to rebuild it,” I admit. “But, um, yeah. I guess I’m good with my hands.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.”
She smirks.
I chuckle.
This woman is damn delightful. Surprisingly funny. And I’m surprised that I like her—not just want her. Not just desire her.
This attraction I feel for Hadley is more than just mating fever.
It’s real.
It’s something I wasn’t expecting.
But I think I might actually be falling in love with her.
“I wasn’t being fresh, but yes, I did all the repairs. Used to work in construction. Anyway, this was my childhood home.”
Something shifts in her expression.
Softens.
“Come on. Let me show you inside,” I add, already moving to round the truck.
I open her door before she can reach for it, offering my hand.
She takes it.
Willingly. Trustingly.
Thank fuck.
And when I help her down?
I don’t just help her down.
I pull her in.
Hands settling on her hips as I guide her from the seat, her body sliding against mine, soft curves pressing into hard lines.
Every inch of her brushing every inch of me.
Her hands come up automatically, gripping my shoulders, and for a second—
We just stand there.
Too close.
Too aware.
My Tiger goes quiet.
Not restless.
Not hunting.
Just focused.
Because this woman?
She does something to me.
Something deeper than instinct.
Something that makes me want to keep her safe.
Keep her close.
Keep her mine.
Did I say I was falling? Fuck that. I’m already gone for her.
“You sure?” I murmur, my voice low.
Because I know if I get her inside, I’m keeping her there. But it needs to be her choice.
Always.
Hadley nods, and my soul sings.
But her breath’s a little uneven. I can see her pulse—all wild and rapid—and I can feel her heart racing inside her chest.
“Yeah,” she says softly.
I don’t move right away.
Can’t.
Because she’s standing there in that pink polka dot dress—soft, sweet, clinging in all the right places—and all I can think about is peeling it off her slowly.
Taking my time.
Learning every inch.
I drag my gaze back up to her face before I do something reckless.
“Come on,” I say, forcing my hands to loosen just enough to guide her instead of hold her. “Let me show you the place.”
Inside, the house is warm.
Wood floors, freshly finished.
Open space.
Clean lines, but not cold—never cold.
It almost feels like a home.
Like my home.
Ours?
No, that’s too fast.
But it could be.
Someday.
I can see it now that she’s standing in it.
Her footsteps are soft as she walks ahead of me, looking around, fingertips brushing over surfaces like she’s taking it all in.
“It smells like wood and…” she pauses, inhaling. “Something warm.”
I smirk.
“Probably me.”
She glances back, rolling her eyes.
“Cocky.”
“Honest.”
She laughs, and that sound—yeah.
I could get used to that.
“Kitchen’s through there,” I say, gesturing. “Living room—still working on that. Main bedroom is upstairs. There are three more and a home office.”
Her gaze flicks toward the staircase.
Then back to me.
And the air?
It shifts again.
Heavier.
Charged.
I step closer without thinking.
Or maybe I am thinking.
Just not with the part of me that plays it safe.
“Are you nervous?” I ask quietly.
She swallows.
“Should I be?”
“Badass she-Bear like you? Hell no.”
I shake my head, reaching up slowly, giving her time to pull away.
She doesn’t.
My fingers brush a loose strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
“You don’t have to be anything you’re not,” I tell her. “Not with me.”
Her eyes search mine.
Like she’s looking for something.
Truth.
Intent.
Maybe even permission.
What she finds must be enough.
Because she leans into my touch.
Just a little.
My thumb traces along her cheek, down to her jaw.
Slow.
Careful.
Like I’m learning her.
“Hadley,” I murmur.
Her breath catches.
“Rob.”
And that’s it.
That’s all it takes.
I close the distance, pulling her in, my hand sliding back to her hip as my mouth finds hers again.
This kiss?
It’s different.
Deeper.
Slower.
Not rushed.
Deliberate.
Certain.
She melts into me, hands curling into my shirt, her body fitting against mine like it was made to.
Mine.
The thought hits hard.
Heavy.
But instead of pushing it—I let it settle.
Because this?
This isn’t about claiming.
Not yet.
This is about her.
About us.
I pull back just enough to rest my forehead against hers, both of us breathing a little harder.
“Still want to see the rest of the house?” I ask, voice rough with a smile.
She huffs a soft laugh.
“Maybe later.”
Yeah. That’s what I thought.
I take her hand again, but this time it’s not to lead her through rooms.
It’s to bring her closer.
To where this night’s been heading since the moment I saw her step into that festival.
And this time?
I’m not stopping.