Page 31 of Wynter's Second Chance

“Well, it’s good to have you back here,” I said softly. It felt like he belonged in this kitchen with us.

He nodded, his gaze meeting mine for a beat longer than usual before Rory interrupted. “Aren’t you going back to the army?” he asked, his voice laced with both curiosity and a touch of concern.

Wynter turned to him, shaking his head. “No, I retired. I’m here for good.”

Rory took a sip from his cup, watching Wynter carefully. I could see the wheels turning in his mind, the silent questions he wasn’t sure he wanted answers to. Though he liked Wynter, I knew that letting someone else in must feel like a threat to what we had, and he was still getting used to the idea.

I squeezed Rory’s shoulder, hoping to give him a little reassurance. He leaned into my side just a bit.

“Was it hard to be in the army?” Rory finally asked.

Wynter smiled, but there was a faint sadness behind it. “It was hard, yeah. But it was also rewarding. We took pride in whatwe did, but being away from family… that was the hardest part. Sometimes, it felt like another world.”

The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, and Rory seemed to absorb every word, nodding slowly. “Did you ever play sports?”

“Yeah,” Wynter said, chuckling. “I was on the high school basketball team. Even got a scholarship for college, but then Royce and I got selected for the army, and that was that. Life changed pretty fast.”

“Maybe you could show me some moves?” Rory’s face lit up, and Wynter’s eyes sparkled in return.

“Absolutely. We can head outside and shoot around a bit. But you’ll have to keep up with me,” Wynter teased, making Rory laugh.

It was a good thing I'd shoveled the driveway.

They got up a few minutes later, the two of them heading out into the crisp December air while I stayed behind, cleaning up the kitchen and gathering my thoughts. I could hear Rory's laughter floating into the house, mingling with Wynter’s deeper chuckles. Their easy camaraderie shook me to my core—in the best possible way. Wynter knew just how to reach Rory, and watching them together stirred a feeling in me I hadn’t let myself feel in a long time.

About an hour later, they both tramped back inside, eyes bright.

“Dad, Wynter showed me some really cool moves!” Rory exclaimed, his whole face lighting up. “I’m totally going to show my friends tomorrow. They’ll freak.”

I chuckled, offering a playful fist bump. “I’m sure they will, kiddo. Now, go on and hop in the shower before you catch a cold.”

He gave us both a quick wave, still buzzing with energy as he raced upstairs, his footsteps echoing through the house.Eventually, the house fell silent, a comfortable warmth filling the space he’d just left.

I felt Wynter’s gaze on me. I looked up, meeting his eyes. Something shifted in the air between us, a current that felt both familiar and terrifyingly new.

“Thank you,” I murmured, stepping closer. I couldn’t stop the words, even if I’d wanted to. “For being so good to Rory. I didn’t realize until you stepped in just how much he’s missed having a second adult around.”

Wynter’s gaze softened, his hand finding mine. “I’m not going anywhere, Taran. Whether you want to believe it or not, I’m here to stay, if that’s what you want. I won’t leave again. And I’m going to do my damn best to make you believe me.”

CHAPTER 15

WYNTER

The days felt strange without the military’s rigid clockwork guiding me. For once, I had to create my own rhythm—a blend of morning workouts, hikes, and moments spent reading, writing, and letting my mind settle into a new calm. It felt good, grounding, even if it sometimes left me restless. I’d also been ignoring Lisa’s calls, which had started early this morning. She could wait. I’d call her on my own time. Today was my day.

Before I knew it, I’d found myself outside Taran’s place, an unspoken pull drawing me here. On the porch, he was sweeping up a scatter of pine needles, lost in the rhythm of it, the easy motion of his arms. He looked up as I approached, that familiar, gentle smile tugging at his mouth. He didn’t look surprised—almost like he’d been waiting for me without knowing it. And maybe I’d been waiting to see him, too.

“Didn’t expect you,” he murmured, brushing his hands down his jeans, that soft flush on his cheeks from the chill.

I shrugged, my hands deep in my pockets, trying to ignore the way my pulse picked up just being here. “Didn’t want to be anywhere else,” I admitted, the words slipping out like they’d always been there. Like they made sense.

A quiet laugh escaped him, and he rubbed his arms as the wind kicked up, sending leaves skittering across the porch. I noticed his bare hands, pale and raw from the cold. Before I could think twice, I reached out, taking them in mine. His skin was freezing, and he startled a little, but didn’t pull away.

“You should’ve worn gloves,” I muttered, brushing my thumb over his knuckles, feeling the roughness of his skin. His eyes caught mine, a silent exchange passing between us, words we hadn’t dared say yet.

Taran didn’t let go. Instead, his fingers tightened around mine, his gaze steady, warm. And in that moment, with nothing but the cold air and his hand in mine, every worry, every doubt I had—about what I wanted, about where I was headed—seemed to dissolve. There was just us, standing there in the quiet, like we’d been here a thousand times.

Abruptly, Taran's grip tightened on my hand, drawing me into the sanctuary of his house. The door shut with a soft click behind us, sealing us away from the world outside. An inexplicable warmth permeated the space, and I inhaled deeply, trying to identify the unique scent that hung heavy in the air.

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