Chapter 6
Rowan
By the time I wake, the storm has burned itself out, leaving the mountain wrapped in clean white stillness.
Pale light filters through the window, soft and cold, painting everything in shades of blue and silver.
For a moment I don't move. I just lie there and listen to the fire popping low in the hearth, to the wind sighing through the trees, to the slow, even breath of the woman tucked against my chest.
Merry.
She's warm and solid in my arms, her hair spilled across my shoulder like dark silk, her hand resting over my heart. The sight of her there settles something deep in my bones, something I didn't know was restless.
I don't do this.
I don't wake up with someone in my bed. I don't share my space, my routines, my carefully constructed quiet. But none of that feels wrong this morning. It feels… inevitable.
She shifts, blinking awake, her gaze finding mine almost immediately. A sleepy smile curves her lips. "Good morning."
"Morning," I say, my voice rough with sleep.
She stretches a little, pressing closer without thinking, and I tighten my arm around her, the possessive instinct sharp and unmistakable. The thought surprises me with its certainty.
Mine.
Not in a way that cages her. In a way that commits. In a way that says I'm willing to make room, to share this space I've guarded so carefully.
"You okay?" she asks softly, like she senses the weight of my thoughts.
"I am," I say. And I mean it.
She studies me for a moment, those dark eyes seeing more than I'm comfortable with. Then she smiles and leans up to kiss me, soft and sweet and perfect.
We get up slowly, dressing in comfortable silence. I hand her one of my sweaters without asking, and she slips it on like it's the most natural thing in the world. It hangs loose on her, sleeves too long, and the sight makes something warm and protective bloom in my chest.
She rolls the sleeves up and catches me watching. "What?"
"Nothing," I say, but I can't quite hide my smile.
Outside, the snow is deep but calm. The world is hushed, pristine. The road is still buried, but the sky is clear now, pale blue stretching over the ridge like a promise.
"Looks like we're here a little longer," she says, peering out the window.
"Yes," I say. "But we’re not stuck anymore."
She turns to look at me, curious. "What do you mean?"
I set two mugs of coffee on the table and meet her gaze. "Now we’re here by choice."
She studies me for a moment, then nods slowly, understanding settling in her expression. "Yes, we are."
We sit together at the small table, steam rising between us. The quiet feels companionable, not awkward. When she speaks again, her voice is thoughtful.
"I should probably start figuring out logistics," she says. "When the road clears, I’ll need to get the wreaths back to Knoxville. In the meantime, my assistant will have to hold down the fort.”
I watch her as she talks, the way she thinks things through, practical and capable even after a night that changed something between us. It only makes my decision firmer.
"Merry," I say.
She looks up. "Yeah?"
"I don't want this to be a one-time thing."
Her breath stills. "Neither do I."
Good. But I don't stop there. As she said before, I only talk when I have something to say… and right now, I have a ton to say.
"I know you have a life down the mountain," I continue, choosing my words carefully. "A business. Responsibilities. People who count on you. I'd never ask you to give any of that up."
She waits, eyes steady, giving me space to finish.
"But I am asking you to build something with me," I say. "Here. If you want to."
Her brows knit slightly. "Build what?"
"A partnership," I say simply. "I make the wreaths. You sell them. We can go into business together.”
The words feel solid as they leave my mouth. Right. Like this is what I've been working toward without realizing it.
She frowns. “You want to be business partners?”
“Yes, but not just business partners. I don't do halfway," I say, holding her gaze. "I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy.” I sigh, realizing that this is coming out all wrong. “I’m just saying that I think we’re so right together that even our work lives align.”
She's quiet for a long moment, turning her mug slowly in her hands. I don't rush her. This matters too much for that. Outside, a branch sheds its snow load with a soft whoosh.
Finally, she looks up, a smile spreading slow and sure across her face. "I didn't come up here looking for forever. I just wanted some beautiful wreaths. But I guess I found both.”
Relief hits me hard enough I have to exhale slowly.
I reach across the table and take her hand, lacing our fingers together. It feels so natural. "We'll figure out the details. How often you need to be down in Knoxville. How we coordinate orders. All of it."
"I have good people at the shop," she says thoughtfully. "My assistant is more than capable of handling the day-to-day. And honestly… I've been feeling stretched thin for a while now. Like I'm running but not getting anywhere."
"And here?"
"Here feels different." She squeezes my hand. "Here feels like I can breathe. Maybe Merry & Bright needs a new location in Mercury Ridge."
“My mother will be pleased,” I say.
She raises an eyebrow. “You mother?”
I chuckle. “I think she had something like this in mind when she sent you up here.”
Merry’s mouth falls open. “You mean… the woman at the mercantile is your mother?”
With a laugh, I fold Merry into my arms. The storm is over. The road will clear. But our story is just getting started.