The words landed in a place I’d been guarding tightly. I picked up my fork, suddenly aware of the lump in my throat. “Thank you,” I whispered.
For a long time, we ate in silence, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable, but heavy with something unnamed. I stole glances at him, at the way his jaw relaxed when he wasn’t frowning, at how his hands were gentler than I expected as he sliced his food.
When the plates were empty and the wine was half gone, I found myself laughing, really laughing. He was telling a story about one of his crew accidentally nailing his glove to a beam. The sound felt strange in my own ears, like it had been too long since I’d let it out.
Later, when I finally walked back to the guesthouse alone, the air was warm, the grass damp under my sandals, the glow of the little house welcoming me back. I should’ve felt lighter after such a night, but instead, my chest was tight.
Because the truth was simple. Seth Cunningham was getting under my skin. And that terrified me.
When I crawled into bed, the sheets cool against my skin, I laid awake for a long time, staring into the dark. I thought of Olive curled up at Blair’s, safe and sound. I thought of the insurance adjuster, the weeks ahead, the uncertainty of it all. And most of all, I thought of Seth, his steady voice, the way he’d said Ideserved a break, the small crack of softness in a man I swore was made of stone.
I couldn’t let Olive get too attached. I couldn’t let myself believe this was anything more than temporary. People didn’t stay. Not for me. Not for us.
And yet, my heart beat faster at the memory of his words, and I knew I was already in deeper than I wanted to admit.
Chapter 26
Seth
The house was quiet again after she left, but it didn’t feel the same kind of quiet as it usually did.
Her laughter still echoed in the space, warm and unexpected. The dishes we’d used were stacked neatly in the sink, two wine glasses drying on the towel by the stove. The air still carried the faint scent of garlic and rosemary, wrapped around the memoryof Madison sitting at my table, eyes soft for once instead of guarded.
I leaned against the counter and ran a hand down my face. Hell, what was I doing?
Dinner had seemed like a simple enough idea, but Blair had practically shoved me toward it when she took Olive for the night. A gesture, nothing more. But when Madison walked in and froze in the doorway, her walls cracked just enough for me to see the woman underneath all that armor. It hadn’t felt simple at all.
It felt… natural. Too natural.
I’d spent years keeping this house tight and orderly, a place for sleeping and working, little else. Tonight, for the first time, it felt like a home. All because she was sitting across from me, rolling her eyes at my stories, trying not to smile too wide, thanking me in that quiet voice that sounded like it cost her something.
And that was the problem.
I didn’t know how to let someone in anymore. I’d gotten too good building walls, too used to control. Letting her in, letting Olive in, meant opening doors I’d nailed shut a long time ago. Doors that, once open, couldn’t be closed again.
I thought about the way Olive had drawn me in her pictures, always fixing something, always present. And the way Madison’s shoulders had eased, just a fraction, as she ate the meal I’d put in front of her. They were looking at me like I was someone they could lean on.
And maybe I could be, for now. I could fix the house. I could keep them safe. I could give them time.
But what happened after?
What happened when their roof was repaired, when the insurance company finally pulled their head out of their ass, when Madison packed up her things and walked out of the guesthouse?
The thought of that night, of her and Olive leaving the same way they’d walked in, strong, determined, and completely out of reach, made my chest ache in a way I didn’t want to admit.
I scrubbed at the plates harder than necessary, forcing myself into the rhythm of it. Wash, rinse, dry. Simple. Contained. Unlike the mess in my head.
By the time I put the last dish in the cupboard, the house was spotless again. But I couldn’t shake the truth pressing in on me.
I wanted more.
And wanting more was dangerous.
Because once Madison Cole and her little girl became part of my world, I wasn’t sure I’d remember how to live without them.
I turned out the lights and went upstairs, but sleep didn’t come easily. I laid awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to the echo of her laugh in the empty house, wondering how long I could keep pretending I wasn’t already too far gone.
Chapter 27
