Page 39 of Forbidden Passions

I gave a quiet laugh. The sound was still a little rusty, but it was becoming just as frequent as my growls and grunts. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t.” She lowered the camera and stood, brushing snow off her knees. Max trotted over for his ear scratch. Slowly, she walked toward me and I vowed I’d never seen anything more beautiful. She pressed a kiss to my cheek—quick but soft. Familiar. “It’s supposed to snow again tonight. Think we’ll get stuck?”

“Probably,” I said. “Roads are shit already.”

Her eyes lit up. “Good.”

I shook my head, pretending to be exasperated, but the truth was, I loved being snowed in with her. She made the cabin feel like more than just shelter. She made it feel like home. Our home.

Back inside, she shrugged off her coat and moved to the stove, already pulling out ingredients for whatever she’d decided to bake that day. I followed her in, settling into the chair where I always watched her work. Max curled up by the fire. The silence between us wasn’t awkward. It never was. It was easy. Comfortable. But eventually, I broke it. “You happy here?”

She looked up, surprised by the question. “Of course I am. Why?”

I lifted one shoulder. “Just checking.”

She dried her hands on a dish towel and walked over, sliding onto my lap without hesitation. “I thought you figured that out after the third snowstorm.”

“Still figured you might run.”

“Gabriel.” Her voice softened, serious now. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right?”

I nodded, my throat tight. “Yeah.”

She cupped my jaw, her thumb stroking my cheek. “Six months ago, I thought I was taking pictures of birds. Turns out I was falling in love with a stubborn mountain man instead.”

I kissed her before I said something I couldn’t take back. I kissed her until Max huffed and shifted like we were ruining his peaceful fireside nap.

When we finally broke apart, I murmured against her lips, “You ever think about what comes next?”

She smiled. “All the time.”

“Kids?” I asked, low. Careful.

Her eyes softened. “Someday.”

I nodded. That was enough. That was everything.

She slid off my lap and headed back to the kitchen, humming to herself like she hadn’t just given me something to hope for.

Max groaned dramatically and walked over to lay beside me, flopping onto his side. “Yeah, yeah,” I said, reaching down to rub his belly. “I’m a goner.”

Outside, the wind was picking up again. Snow clouds were forming in the distance. But inside this cabin, the fire was warm, the woman I loved was making cookies she’d pretend were for her sweet tooth, but we both knew they were for mine. And our dog was snoring like a chainsaw.

And for the first time in a long damn time, everything felt exactly right.

EPILOGUE

Gabriel

Several months later…

Snow was melting in thick sheets off the roof, heavy drops hitting the porch rail in a steady rhythm. The sun was finally sticking around past five, and the trails behind the cabin were just starting to soften with mud. Spring, real spring, was coming.

And I was waiting.

Callie had driven into town early this morning for something—she was vague on the details, just said she’d be back by lunch. I’d tried not to read anything into it, but when Max kept pacing by the door and my coffee started going cold in my hands, I finally gave in and watched the road.

It wasn’t like her to be gone this long.

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