"You could tell her that I'm... Whatever this is. Hiding out, I guess."
"You're running, sweetheart. I just don't know if you're running from something or to something."
Before I can respond, his phone buzzes.
He glances at it, frowns. "Wilder says they've sent out the hounds. Reporters are actively looking for you. He's telling us to lay low."
My fork clatters to the plate. "Already?"
"Kara." He says my name like it's heavy. "You left Marshall at the altar in a wedding funded by your father's campaign. Did you think this would stay quiet?"
"I thought I'd have more time." My throat tightens.
"Time for what?" He leans against the counter, arms crossed, biceps straining against the thermal. "To figure out what you actually want? To decide if this was worth it? To realize you made a mistake?"
We stare at each other across his kitchen. Years of history thick between us. I fucking hate that I can't stop breaking this man's heart.
“I just want to note that it's deeply unfair how good you look while destroying me.” I fold my arms over my chest. “That’s not it at all.”
"Then what is it? From where I'm standing, you're a runaway bride sitting in my kitchen, wearing my clothes, with no plan beyond showing up at my door."
The words sting because they're true. "I came here because I knew you'd let me in. Even angry. Even hurt. You'd let me in even though it isn't fair. I’m going to give you space, but I want you to let me all the way in.”
6
rustin
I escape to the shed for the rest of the day. Kara doesn't follow me out and that’s a good thing. I need to think without her presence scrambling my brain. If I’m going to lose myself to her again, it’s going to be my own choice. I don’t want anyone else to blame.
So I take my time outside. I pace. I sit… and then I pace again. I light a fire in the pit beside my shed. But even the crackle of the flames against the white snow does nothing to clear my mind.
Kara has always beenthatwoman for me. The one who lights me up. The one who makes me want to risk everything I’ve built for a single night with her. Hours tick by and my thoughts don’t slow.
The only thing I know for certain is that if I let down the wall between us, there won’t be any going back. I pace the property line and chop more wood than I could use in an entire season. It’s freezing, but I keep moving until I can’t feel the cold. Truth is the generator's fine. The battery's fine. The windows are fine… It's me that's malfunctioning.
The sun is setting by the time I step back into the cabin. Kara's built up the fire in the hearth on her own and is curledonto the couch with a book. It’s one of mine, a psychological thriller I'd left on the side table.
“Not exactly holiday reading.”
She looks up at me. “Thought you froze to death out there just to avoid me.” Then a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “Come on, I made us dinner.”
We move around each other like magnets with matching poles. To her credit, Kara attempts to give me the space she promised and keeps our conversation surface level. She’s so quiet I can hear the storm howling outside and I hate every minute of it. It’s not natural to have her this close and keep my distance.
I set myself up for the conversation bubbling within me. But when dinner is cleaned up, Kara heads toward my bedroom.
"Goodnight Rustin, I’m going to head to bed early.”
Her words land right in the middle of the mess I've been trying to untangle all damn day. The part of me that wants to follow her, climb on top of her, and press her beautiful body into the mattress. But the part that’s terrified wins the day. So I nod once, unable to speak, and watch her disappear down the hall.
The sound of her footsteps fades. They’re replaced by the storm's relentless hum outside. I stand there, staring at the flames licking up the log in the fireplace and trying to steady my breathing.
I've spent years mastering control over my work, my body, and my damn emotions. But the longer I stand here right now the less control I've got. Every breath feels too shallow. Every thought is too full of her.
It takes me an hour to get out of my own way and walk toward the bedroom. When I do, I hear a soft gasp followed by a low moan and it stops me in my tracks. I’ve heard those sounds before.
Or maybe it’s all in my head and I’ve really fucking lost it now.
I hold my breath and listen intently. My name slips from her lips all breathy and wanting. There’s no mistaking the sounds this time. My dick twitches in response. My hand taps three times on the door before I can stop myself and it opens a crack.
