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"Sit. Warm up."

I drop onto the cushions, and he disappears into the kitchen. I hear him opening cupboards, running water, and setting something on the counter. When he comes back, he’s carrying two mugs.

"Tea," he says, handing me one.

I wrap my hands around it, letting the heat seep into my fingers. "Thank you."

He sits beside me, his own mug balanced on his knee. “We’ve got food, power, heat, and water. We’ll be fine.”

"I know."

He glances at me, and for a moment I think he's going to ask about the call. Instead, he leans back against the cushions and takes a sip of his tea.

"Guess I'm stuck with you for another day."

Despite everything, I almost smile. "You say that like it's a hardship."

"Remains to be seen, fancy."

This time I do smile. He notices, and something in his expression softens.

"We'll figure it out," he says quietly.

I nod and take a sip of tea, letting the warmth settle into my chest.

Rez stands and moves to the windows, studying the buried landscape with the same focus he gives everything. He’s assessing, planning, staying practical while I sit here tangled in contradictions.

I should be panicking. The road’s closed, my mother’s furious, and I’m stuck on a mountain with a man I haven't seen in a month, and only knew for days before that. Known. But I’m not panicking. I’m sitting on this couch with my tea, watching him think through the logistics, and part of me doesn’t want the road cleared at all.

That realization unsettles me more than the snow.

“I’ll bring in more wood,” he says, turning back toward me, “and make sure the backup power’s set if we lose the solar overnight.”

"I'll help."

He shakes his head. “You’re still cold. Stay inside.”

I want to argue, but he's already heading for the door.

While he’s outside, I walk through the house again, taking in the quiet, the warmth, and the view of the mountains holding us here. My phone sits silent on the table. No calls, no messages demanding my return.

Just the fire, the snow, time, and him.

CHAPTER 20

SLEEP

Rez

Istep outside to check the snow’s grip on the world around us, and it's relentless. The car looks more like a snowbank than anything that can take us anywhere. It holds us here with its soft, whispering silence. Even Mother Nature tries to keep us together.

Heading to the barn to grab wood, I catch the steam rising from the new snow and head that way. I dig a bit and find I was right. I find the hot tub.

It's wood-heated and spring-fed, one of the features I appreciated in the listing. I check the heater’s setup, the warmth rising from the water's surface contrasting sharply against the cold. The snow surrounds it, creating an embrace of privacy, a little oasis.

Anna mentioned wanting to try it out; I'll just add some wood. I can picture her eyes lighting up with that spark I love.

And there it is. Love.