“You know,” I say, bumping his arm lightly. “It was really nice seeing another side of you tonight.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Another side?”
“Yeah.” I smile. “At the tavern you were…relaxed. Laughing. Teasing Trask right back. And now, walking like this, you’re way less grumpy and gruff than usual. Almost approachable.”
Kaleb lets out a low, rumbling laugh—the sound I’m starting to crave.
“Approachable. That’s a new one,” Kaleb guffaws. “Ask people around here how approachable they think I am. You might here another story.”
“Naaaw, I mean it,” I insist. “You’re full of surprises, Kaleb Ruhst. Lumberjack by day, classic-rock fan by night, secret George Eliot reader, s’mores master… and now apparently capable of smiling in public.”
He shakes his head, but the corner of his mouth keeps twitching.
“I must truly be a man of many talents,” Kaleb says. “But don’t tell anyone. The last thing I need is to become some kind of pillar of the community. I’m happy as I am. No one else needs to know about these so-called other sides to me.”
“Very mysterious,” I tease. “I’m going to have to start taking notes.”
We pass the little hardware store with its window display of lanterns and wool socks. A cat watches us from the sill, his tail flicking lazily.
Kaleb glances down at me. “How’s the new book coming along?”
I bite my lip, suddenly shy. “Still early days.Reallyearly. Like… first few chapters and a lot of scribbled ideas. But I have high hopes. This place… the woods, the river, the quiet… it’s all feeding into it. The hero is starting to feel real too.”
“Yeah?” His thumb strokes the back of my hand. “What’s he like?”
“Strong. Quiet. Protective. A little rough around the edges, but…” I trail off, cheeks warming. “He cares. Deeply. In a way that surprises even him.”
Kaleb doesn’t say anything right away.
He just keeps walking, keeps holding my hand.
But I can feel the shift—the air between us thickening, growing heavier with every step.
We turn onto the street that leads to the B&B. The fairy lights are on again, twinkling along the porch railing like tiny stars. The windows glow warm yellow. Miles and Henry’s porch swing creaks faintly in the breeze.
And suddenly the decision is right there in front of me.
We slow as we reach the steps.
My heart kicks hard against my ribs.
Kaleb stops and turns to face me. We’re still holding hands, standing close enough that I have to tip my head back to meet his eyes. They’re dark in the low light, intense, searching.
I swallow. My voice comes out softer than I mean it to. “Kaleb…”
He waits.
I take a breath. “Will you… stay over? With me? Tonight?”
For a second, there’s nothing. Just the sound of crickets and distant traffic and my own pulse thundering in my ears.
Then he lifts both hands—huge, rough, gentle—and cups my face. Kaleb’s thumbs brush my cheekbones, and I feel the adrenaline pumping all over my body. He looks at me like I’m something precious, something he’s been waiting for.
“Yes,” he says, voice low and sure. “I’ll stay.”
Relief and heat rush through me at the same time. I rise on my toes, close the last inch between us, and kiss him—slow, deep, full of everything I’ve been feeling since that first night in the rain.
My Daddy kisses me back like he’s been starving for it.