She nodded. "When I'm ready."
He headed upstairs without another word. The cabin settled into silence, just the crackle of the fire and the sound of our breathing.
Daisy turned to me. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks streaked with tears she hadn't bothered to wipe away. She looked exhausted and beautiful and like she'd been through a war.
"Take me somewhere," she said quietly. "Anywhere. I can't stay here tonight."
I didn't hesitate. "Come on."
***
My cabin wasn't much. It was small, simple and built for one person who didn't need much. But it was mine, and tonight, I was bringing her into it for the first time.
She stood in the doorway, looking around at the sparse furniture, the woodstove in the corner, the books stacked on every available surface. I watched her take it in, suddenly self-conscious in a way I hadn't been in years.
"It's not much," I said.
"It's you." She walked to the bookshelf, trailing her fingers along the spines. "I didn't know you read this much."
"Started a few years ago. Figured if I was going to prove I wasn't just some dumb troublemaker, I should probably educate myself."
She pulled out a worn copy of Little Women. "This was my mom's favorite."
"I know." The words were out before I could stop them.
She turned, surprise playing across her face. "How do you know that?"
"You told me. That summer. We were at the lake, and you were talking about her, about how she used to read to you when youwere little." I shrugged, trying to play it off. "I bought a copy after you left. Read it cover to cover. Tried to understand why she loved it so much."
Daisy stared at me. Then she set the book down and crossed the room in three quick steps.
She kissed me like she was trying to pour everything she couldn't say into the contact. Gratitude and grief and love so fierce it burned. I caught her, pulled her close, let her take whatever she needed.
"Knox." She pulled back, her hands fisted in my shirt. "I need you. Not just... I need to feel something good. After everything tonight. I need you to make me feel good."
"Daisy." I cupped her face in my hands. "You've been through a lot. We don't have to..."
"I know we don't have to." Her eyes were fierce. "I want to. I want you. I want to feel like I'm finally exactly where I'm supposed to be."
I searched her face for doubt and found none.
I kissed her again, slower this time. Deeper. Letting the heat build between us as she melted into me, her body soft and warm against mine, her fingers working the buttons of my shirt.
I walked her backward toward the bedroom, our mouths never breaking contact. She stumbled slightly at the threshold, and I caught her, lifting her easily as her legs wound around my hips, and carried her the rest of the way.
The bedroom was dark except for moonlight streaming through the window. I laid her on the bed and stood back, drinking in the sight of her. Hair spread across my pillow. Lips swollen from kissing. Eyes dark with want.
"I've been imagining this for eight years. You. In my bed." I pulled my shirt over my head, tossed it aside. "Let me look."
Her breath caught as I climbed onto the bed, settling over her. I kissed her jaw, her neck, the sensitive spot behind her ear that made her shiver.
"Eight years," I murmured against her skin. "Eight years of wanting you in my bed. Dreaming about you. Waking up hard and aching because you weren't there."
She whimpered, arching into me. "Knox."
"I'm going to take my time tonight." I found the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, revealing inch after inch of soft skin. "I'm going to worship every part of you. Make up for every night I should have been doing this and wasn't."
"We don't have to make up for anything." She lifted her hips so I could pull off her jeans. "We're here now. That's what matters."