Page 21 of My Savior Valentine

I hold up my hands in surrender, admiring her determination. It's one of the things I've come to love about her. Love. The word echoes in my mind, and I realize with a start that it's true. Somewhere along the way, amidst the fear and the adrenaline and the long night in that snow shelter, I've fallen for Willow Jones.

We make our way out of the hospital, the silence between us charged with unspoken emotions. I help her into my truck, my hands lingering a moment longer than necessary as I make sure she's comfortable.

As I slide into the driver's seat, Willow takes my hand. "Thank you," she says softly. "For everything."

I squeeze her hand, marveling at how perfectly it fits in mine. "Anytime, Willow. Anytime."

We pull out of the hospital parking lot, the truck's engine rumbling beneath us. As I navigate the familiar roads, Willow leans back in her seat, her eyes drifting to the passing scenery.

"So," I begin, glancing over at her, "how's the recovery going?"

She sighs, a wry smile on her lips. "Slowly but surely. The doctors say I'm making good progress, but it's frustrating, you know? I'm used to being on the move, not stuck in a hospital bed."

I nod in understanding. "I can only imagine. But you're tough, Willow. You'll be back on those slopes in no time."

She's quiet for a moment, her gaze distant. "Actually, I've been thinking about that. About what comes next."

I raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh?"

"I think I want to stay in Hope Peak," she says softly. "At least for a while. It feels right, somehow."

My heart skips a beat at her words. The thought of having her near, of exploring this thing between us, sends a thrill through me.

"I think that's a great idea," I say, trying to keep my tone casual. "And, uh, I booked some time off work. Two weeks, starting today. I thought maybe we could, you know, spend some time together. If you want."

Willow turns to me, her eyes wide with surprise and something else - something warm and tender. "Reid, I'd love that."

We lapse into a comfortable silence, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal. The mountains loom ahead of us, their snow-capped peaks glinting in the sun. The road winds through forests of pine and aspen, the trees a blur of green and gold.

Before I know it, I'm pulling up to my cabin, my heart pounding. I glance over at Willow, trying to gauge her reaction. "It's not much," I say, my voice gruff with nerves, "but it's home."

I help her out of the truck, my hands gentle as I support her weight. We make our way up the path, Willow leaning on me heavily. I can feel the warmth of her body through her coat, and it sends sparks shooting through my veins.

I open the door, ushering her inside. The cabin is warm and inviting, the fireplace crackling merrily in the corner. I've spent the last few days since she agreed to stay with me, preparing for her arrival. I want everything to be perfect.

I lead her to the guest bedroom I've got ready for her, my anxiety mounting with each step. As I push open the door, I hold my breath, watching her face for any sign of disappointment.

But Willow's eyes widen with delight as she takes in the space. The bed is piled high with soft blankets and pillows, a cozyhaven just for her. A vase of fresh wildflowers on the nightstand adds a splash of color. And in the middle of the bed is a heart-shaped box of chocolates - a belated Valentine's gift.

"Reid," she breathes, her voice thick with emotion. "You did all this for me?"

I nod, suddenly feeling shy. "I want you to be comfortable here. I know it's not much, but-"

She cuts me off with a kiss, her lips soft and insistent against mine. I wrap my arms around her, careful of her injured leg, and pull her close. The kiss deepens, and I pour all of my unspoken feelings into it - the fear, the longing, the hope.

When we finally break apart, Willow's eyes are shining with tears. "It's perfect," she whispers. "You're perfect. I just have one question…"

"Shoot," I say, wondering instantly what I've got wrong.

Willow tilts her head, a mischievous glint in her eye. "If you've decked out this room for me, where will you sleep?"

The question catches me off guard, and I feel heat rising in my cheeks. "I, uh... I thought you might want your own space. To heal and all."

She arches an eyebrow. "Reid, we spent a night huddled together in a snow shelter. I think we're past the point of separate beds."

I rub the back of my neck, suddenly feeling awkward. "I know, but that was different. We were in survival mode. This is... well, this is real life."

Willow reaches out, taking my hand in hers. "And in real life, I want to be close to you. Don't you want that too?"

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