Page 12 of Shelter Me, Sawyer

"Yes, I'm sure. This is what I want."

I can't help the way my mouth curves at that.She wants me.

She's been here every day since that first morning. Went back down the mountain once to collect her things, quit her job, and close up her apartment. Came back with two suitcases and a look of determination that made something warm unfurl in my chest.

We're still figuring it out—this thing between us. How to share space that's been mine alone for ten years. How to merge her chatter with my silence. How to build something real and lasting when everything about this situation defies logic.

But it's working.

She's made the cabin feel like home in ways I didn't know were possible. Plants on the windowsills that she talks to every morning. Books scattered on every surface because she reads three at once. The smell of coffee and vanilla and something distinctlyherlingering in every room.

And at night...

At night, she curls up against me like she belongs there, and I fall asleep to the sound of her breathing, more content than I've ever been in my life.Afterlots of lovemaking, of course.

"I have to go," she says into the phone. "There’s a sexy mountain man waiting for me."

She appears around the corner of the cabin, phone tucked away, grinning at me like I'm the best thing she's seen all day.

"Who was that?" I ask, setting down the axe.

"My sister. She thinks I've lost my mind."

"Have you?"

She considers this seriously, head tilted to one side. "Probably. But I've never been happier."

I catch her around the waist, pulling her against me. She comes to me easily, hands sliding up my chest to link behind my neck.

"No regrets?" I ask, because I need to hear it. Need to know this isn't some extended vacation that'll end when reality sets in.

"Only that it took me so long to get lost on the right trail," she says, then kisses me soft and sweet and certain.

When we break apart, she's smiling that sunshine smile that made me fall for her in the first place.

"Come on," she says, tugging me toward the cabin. "I want to show you something."

Inside, she leads me to the kitchen table where her laptop is open, displaying what looks like a website.

"I've been working on this for the past week," she says, suddenly nervous. "It's probably stupid, but—"

"Mountain Memories Photography," I read aloud. "Capturing the wild beauty of Appalachian life."

She fidgets with her hands. "I thought maybe I could start a business. Take pictures of the mountains, the wildlife, maybe some of the local families who've been here for generations. Document this place that means so much to both of us."

I scroll through the sample photos she's uploaded—images she's taken during our hikes together. The sunrise over the ridge. A hawk circling above the treeline. My hands working on a piece of furniture, though she's cropped it so you can't see my face.

They're beautiful. Full of the love she's developed for this place.

"It's not stupid," I say, voice rougher than I intended. "It's perfect."

Her face lights up. "Really?"

"Really." I pull her close, amazed all over again that this incredible woman chose to stay. Chose me. Chose this life we're building together. "You sure you want to document the locals, though? Most of them are antisocial hermits."

She laughs, pressing her face against my chest. "I know. I'm in love with one of them."

The words hit me like lightning. She's said it. Finally said it out loud.

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