"Thank you for today," he said, giving me a grin as he looked down at me. "For coming with me. For trusting me with... everything."
"Thank you for showing me that view. And for..." I gestured vaguely, encompassing the whole day. "For being patient. For not giving up when I tried to push you away."
"I'll never give up." He said it simply, like a fact of nature. "None of us will." He leaned down then, slowly, giving me time to pull away. I didn't. His lips brushed my cheek—soft, gentle, a mirror of Oliver's kiss but somehow entirely different. Where Oliver's had been almost paternal, protective, Garrett's felt like a promise. A beginning.
"Micah's looking forward to Friday," he said as he pulled back. "The observatory. He's been planning it for days."
"I'm looking forward to it too." I told him softly, feeling warm and embarrassed by how these men made me feel.
"And Levi's already stress-baking about his date with you. Our kitchen looks like a flour bomb went off."
I laughed, the image too perfect. "Tell him I'm not expecting perfection. Though I am looking forward what he has planned."
"I'll tell him, but he won't listen. That's Levi—everything has to be just right when it matters." Garrett smiled, stepping back toward his truck. "Goodnight, Daphne. Sleep well."
"Goodnight, Garrett." I watched him drive away, the same as I'd watched Oliver, the same as I'd watched Levi. But this time, the watching felt different. Less like saying goodbye and more like saying see you soon.
Inside, I showered and changed into comfortable clothes, my body pleasantly sore from the hike. I made tea and sat on my back porch, watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of fire and gold, thinking about everything that had happened.
Four dates planned. Four men learning my corners and edges. A future I was only beginning to imagine.
My phone buzzed with a text from Garrett:Made it home. Today was everything I hoped it would be. Thank you.
I typed back:Thank you for sharing that place with me. It was perfect.
Another buzz, this time from Levi:Garrett says you survived the hike! Proud of you! Can we do our date Monday?
And Micah:Confirming Friday at Seven? The meteor shower peaks at Ten, so we'll have dinner first.
And Oliver:Heard today went well. Happy for you both. Can't wait to see you again.
Four messages. Four men. Four threads weaving together into something I'd never expected.
I responded to each of them—yes to Monday, yes to Friday, thank you for everything—and then set down my phone and just breathed. Let myself feel the hope without trying to qualify it, the connection without trying to protect myself from it.
One day at a time. One date at a time. One small, terrifying, wonderful step toward belonging.
I fell asleep that night with the memory of mountaintop views and Garrett's steady presence and the growing certainty that maybe—just maybe—I'd been wrong about what was possible.
Chapter Thirty-One
Daphne
The morning after my hike with Garrett dawned grey and overcast, the kind of day that usually sent me retreating into the cabin with a book and a pot of tea. Sadly, my pantry was running low on essentials, and I'd promised Eleanor I'd drop off a fresh batch of lavender bundles for her shop before the weekend market. So I forced myself into presentable clothes—a simple sundress in soft blue, a light cardigan against the morning chill—and headed into town.
Haven's Rest was quiet this early, the streets still damp from overnight rain, the air carrying that particular petrichor scent that always made me think of new beginnings. I parked my truck near the general store and sat for a moment, steeling myself for the social interaction ahead. Even after everything that had changed in the past week, being around people still required effort. Still demanded something from me that didn't come naturally.
It was getting easier though. That was the thing I hadn't expected…how practice made even the most uncomfortable things more manageable. Each conversation with the pack, eachmoment of vulnerability shared, each wall I'd let crumble…they were all building something. Muscle memory for connection, maybe. The slow relearning of how to be human among humans.
I grabbed the basket of lavender from the passenger seat and headed toward Eleanor's shop, the familiar bell chiming as I pushed open the door. The scent of dried flowers and handmade soaps enveloped me immediately, a warm and welcoming cloud that never failed to soothe my nerves.
"Daphne!" Eleanor's voice rang out from behind the counter, her weathered face breaking into a genuine smile. She was a small woman in her sixties, with silver hair she wore in a practical braid and eyes that had seen too much to be fooled by pretense. "I was hoping you'd come by today. The lavender sold out yesterday, and I've had three customers asking when I'd have more."
"I brought extra." I set the basket on the counter, watching her sort through the bundles with practiced hands. "The rain last week was perfect for them. This might be the best of the season."
"They're gorgeous." She held one up to the light, examining the tight purple buds with obvious appreciation. "You have a gift, you know. Not everyone can coax such beauty from the earth."
The compliment made me flush, but it landed differently than it would have a week ago. Less like an attack to be deflected, more like a truth to be accepted. "Thank you, Eleanor. That means a lot."
