Chapter 35
THATCHER
Fifteen minutes later, she comes back into the living room wearing black sweatpants and a tank top.
Comfortable. Soft. Real.
And all mine.
At least—I want her to be.
She walks barefoot across the wide-plank floors like she already belongs here, like she’s always belonged here, and the sight of her—flush from washing her face, or maybe that’s anticipation, soft hair curling around her shoulders, pink still blooming on her cheeks—hits me so hard in the chest I forget to breathe.
Goddamn, she’s beautiful.
I let my eyes rake over her like hands.
I wish they were my hands.
Because I want to touch her.
Not just to satisfy the hunger clawing at my insides, though that’s always there.
No, I want to ground her. Comfort her. Soothe whatever worry’s lingering behind those tired eyes of hers.
She doesn’t look relaxed, not exactly. She looks like she’s trying too hard to act like nothing’s wrong.
And I can’t have that.
I want nothing but honesty between us.
I glance away, pretending to fuss with the DVD shelf. I’ve got internet, sure—decent signal most days thanks to a booster up on the ridge—but storms can knock it out without warning, so I keep a stash of movies on hand.
Nothing fancy.
A lot of classics.
Some action flicks.
A few guilty-pleasure romcoms from Kelly. I’m thumbing through them now, hoping maybe something will catch Willow’s eye.
The house smells like cedar and firewood, and the logs I stacked earlier are crackling in the hearth.
Golden light spills across the room, hitting her skin, and I swear to God she glows.
I want this to feel like home for her.
I want her to feel safe here.
God, I want her to stay.
Please stay.
I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until she steps into the room fully and our eyes meet.
“Hey,” I say softly, pushing off the shelf and walking toward her. I open my arms without thinking. “Come here. What’s wrong?”
She hesitates.
Just for a second.
But I catch it. Feel it.
Then she moves into me, curling against my chest like she belongs there.
And the breath I let out is more than a sigh—it’s a goddamn release.
Like a tightrope in my chest just snapped loose.
She smells like soap and something sugary-sweet. The same bubblegum scent that always drives me wild.
But something’s off.
I can feel it in the way she holds herself—like she’s bracing.
She pulls back just a bit, her cheeks flushed.
“Um, shit. This is embarrassing.”
I frown instantly, shaking my head.
“Nothing you could say to me would embarrass me, and it shouldn’t embarrass you, Baby Girl. Now, talk to me.”
She hesitates, chewing on her lip. That same damn lip I’ve kissed a hundred times and still can’t stop thinking about.
She finally lets out a breath. “Fine. It’s just… I got my period.”
I blink.
Okay.
Not what I was expecting, but also? Not a problem.
She pushes forward quickly, like she thinks I’m going to bolt.
“I have an IUD, so it’s usually super light. Sometimes I skip it altogether, but I guess I forgot to check the calendar. I’m sorry if I ruined tonight—”
I cut her off before the guilt can take root.
“You didn’t ruin a damn thing, Willow. What the hell are you apologizing for?”
Her lips part, eyes wide like she wasn’t expecting that response.
“Didn’t you want to, you know?”
“Baby, I always want to you know with you. But don’t apologize for biology,” I scoff.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe I said that.”
She’s blushing now, but she’s more relaxed, and that makes me grin.
“Willow, I’ve got a sister. Trust me, I’ve lived through the moods, the cravings, the heating pads in the microwave. I know how this works.”
She just blinks at me.
Like I’m speaking in tongues.
And there it is again—that look.
That quiet, haunted flicker in her eyes like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Like she expects me to pull away. To recoil.
To make her feel less than for something so goddamn normal.
I hate it.
I want to kill the voice in her head that ever made her believe she needed to apologize for existing.
“Do you need me to get something for you? I’m sure Kelly has a stash of whatever at the office,” I offer.
“No, I don’t want you to leave. And I… I had what I needed in my backpack,” she says, barely above a whisper.
“Good,” I nod, keeping my voice gentle but firm. “Then how about you come sit with me and watch a movie?”
Her brows lift slightly, like she can’t quite believe I mean it.
So I double down.
I brush her cheek with the back of my knuckles. “You’re here. With me. That’s all I need, Baby Girl.”
Her lips tremble, but she nods. And when I tug her toward the couch, she follows.
No fear. No flinch.
And that?
That right there?
Feels like winning the goddamn lottery.
Because I know how hard that trust comes for a woman like her.
And I’ll earn it every damn day until she doesn’t have to think twice.
“You good?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says softly. “But I want to tell you something first.”
I nod immediately.
Truth is, I’ve been waiting for this.
Waiting for her to trust me enough to open that door. I keep my stance loose, my hands at my sides, but inside I’m wound tight as a steel cable.
“I want to tell you about how I ended up here,” she says.
“In my house?” I ask lightly, trying to keep it easy for her.
She laughs, a little shaky.
“Yes, well. That too. But first—Maine.”
I nod, not wanting to do anything to make her stop.