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“By the bed,” I said without hesitation. “First thing I want to see in the morning and the last at night.”
“Something to remember me by when I have stay at the station?” he asked with a smile.
“Exactly,” I giggled.
We unpacked into the evening, the shared space slowly taking shape around us. When we finally collapsed onto the couch, my heart was full despite the exhaustion.
“Home,” I whispered, leaning into Connor's embrace.
“Home,” he echoed, his lips pressing against my forehead in a promise.
The Friday evening of my first week at my new job, I strolled into the apartment and threw my keys on the counter. Connor stood next to the stove cooking dinner. I came up beside him, and he pulled me into his side. The comforting scent of musk, pinewood, and vanilla snuggled around me.
“How was your day?” he asked after giving me a short peck on the lips.
“Excellent,” I said barely containing my smile. Reaching into my purse I pulled out a surprise for him.
Connor's brow arched in surprise as I brandished the brochure for the wilderness survival class I'd enrolled in. His blue eyes twinkled like stars in the inky night sky outside our window.
“Seriously, a survival class?” he asked, trying to stifle his amusement.
“Yep!” I popped the ‘p’ with a defiant smirk. “I want to be able to keep up with Mr. Ranger Danger over here when we go on adventures.”
"Ranger Danger?" Connor repeated, a laugh escaping him. "Is that my official nickname now?"
“If you’re going to continue to call me Scooter, you’re going to be Ranger Danger,” I said.
He pulled me against him. “While I think it’s adorable, you know you didn’t need to sign up for a class. I can teach you all that.”
“Well, how else am I supposed to impress you with my wilderness prowess?”
After dinner, Connor and I sat outside on our balcony. It was freezing from the fresh layer of powder this morning.
Connor's arm was warm around my shoulders, his presence a steady beat against the uncertainties that had once plagued me. I snuggled into him on the settee sofa. “Imagine us, ten years down the line," I said dreamily, "me, crunching numbers by day, surviving in the wild by night, and you—"
"Rescuing you from bears and squirrels?" Connor teased, but his voice softened.
I poked him playfully in the ribs and he laughed.
“We could travel,” he said. “See the sights you've only dreamed of but never stepped foot in.”
I leaned into him, my head resting against the solid wall of his chest. "I want that—the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben…. But I also want the little things, like waking up to hot cocoa and fighting over who gets the last slice of pizza."
His chuckle vibrated against me. “I do make a great cup of hot cocoa. And for the record, you always get the last slice—by default, since you distract me with that thing you do with your—"
“Connor!” I swatted his chest, heat creeping up my neck at his insinuation.
“Sorry, couldn't help it.” He kissed the top of my head, a gesture so tender it made my heart swell. "But seriously, we can build something real here.”
“Yeah,” I smiled, imagining a life where my days were filled with more than just numbers and ledgers, where my heart wasn't hemmed in by fear. "With lots of dogs. And maybe…maybe even a mini-Connor or a Becca Jr. running around someday?"
"Sounds perfect," he whispered.
The comfortable silence stretched between us, a canvas for our dreams.
The next morning, Connor woke me up with breakfast in bed. French toast with a steaming cup of hot chocolate. He topped it off with a heap of whipped cream. My stomach growled. “What’s the occasion?” I asked and forked a bite of toast slathered in syrup into my mouth.
“Nothing, but I do have a surprise for you.” A mischievous smirk crossed his face.
