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This was exactly why I’d fallen so hard for him. He saw me and showed up for me without me having to ask. It was the type of love I wrote about, but never thought I would experience.

It was soft. And safe. And warm. Everything I ever wanted and it happened so fast.

I pulled away from him, wiping my eyes and choked out, “I fucking love you, Noah.”

“You said what?” A smile was trying to creep on his face, but he looked like he was fighting it, trying to make sure he heard me correctly.

“I said I love you. I’m in love with you. I don’t know how you do it, but you make my day every day. You’re my best friend and you make me so fucking happy by just being yourself. I never wanna know what it’s like to not have you in my life.” I wiped my tears, trying to focus on his face but he blurred again as another wave of tears hit me.

“True.” His voice was muffled when he wrapped me in his embrace again, rubbing my back. “I love you too, Red. And I already told you, I’m not going anywhere. You stuck with me.”

That was how December went.

Every day, I wrote with Duchess by my side in the new canopy bed Noah installed for her in front of the window facing my desk.

Every night, one of them came to get me when they were done at the resort, and they gave me another gift before we ate dinner.

Suddenly, my cabin was becoming a home.

Noah had gifted me a bookcase and installed floating shelves in my living room so I could put my sister’s record collection somewhere other than the milk crate where they’d been collecting dust.

Greyson’s gifts were just as thoughtful. The first week he gave me an antique typewriter he found at a shop in Charlotte. A week after that, he draped a gold bracelet on my wrist that looked like the less chunky version of the one he wore on his wrist.

That same week, Greyson upgraded his bed to an Alaskan king because we all slept in his room every night and he wanted us to have more space.

I couldn’t tell if Noah’s sleep had gotten better because of the tea or because he’d cut ties with his parents, but he was sleeping through the night, usually sandwiched between me and Greyson.

Peaceful was the only word I could think of to describe what life felt like with them and when I finally cracked and told my parents, my mother had given me a succinct“I knew it”before asking me if they wanted to come to Christmas Eve dinner.

I felt settled.Happy.

So, when Greyson found me before dinner one Saturday and gave me a red, square box, I peered at him, thinking it was another piece of jewelry.

Instead, I pulled out a fifth of the whiskey I’d seen him drink more than once and quirked a brow. “You gave me your favorite whiskey?”

Greyson smirked, his hand already curled around my neck. “That’s the safe word you chose, Red. I told myself I’d give it to you when we were finally ready for the scene you’ve been asking for.”

His words lit an instant fire in the pit of my stomach that heated me more than his touch.

Greyson speared me with a look, his attention fanning the flames trying to consume me.

“We talked about your limits. You told me what you want.” He leaned down to kiss me, sucking on my bottom lip before he rose to his full height again. “I listened. So, when you’re ready to run, just say the word, Red.”

The pulse thrumming at my center made me shift on my feet. Just the thought of him chasing me already had me wound so tight, I wanted to combust.

“Tomorrow,” I whispered, not tearing my eyes away from him.

Tomorrow was Sunday. He never worked on Sunday, so I would have his full attention for as long as I wanted it.

Greyson nodded, his dimple teasing me when he bit down on his lip. “Tomorrow it is, Red.”

“That whiskey I gave you yesterday wasn’t your gift.” Greyson tested the strap of my boots and dropped my foot back on the floor.

The thick sole of my leather boot landed on his bedroom rug with a thud as he turned away from me.

“Your real gift is out here.”

My eyes followed his finger as he pointed out of his large window, overlooking the path to my cabin and the woods beyond it.