Page 106 of Curvy Cabin Fever

“I never imagined this,” I murmur into the darkness, not sure if any of them are still awake.

But Rhett’s voice comes back to me, steady and sure. “I did. Not exactly this, but...something.”

“We’re your home now,” Morgan mumbles against my skin.

Damien’s hand tightens slightly on my hip. “Always.”

Outside, snow begins to fall—light at first, then heavier. I listen to the soft patter against the windows, remembering another snowfall that stranded me with three strangers who became my world.

I close my eyes, surrounded by the men I love, carrying the future we’ve created.

We’ve all found our way home.

38

ARIA

THREE MONTHS LATER

By the time spring finds the cabin, I’ve stopped counting the weeks.

I measure time differently now—in fluttering kicks, in soft belly curves, in the way Morgan wraps himself around me in bed like I’m something precious. In the firewood Rhett stacks obsessively “just in case.” In the way Damien always has a hand on me, like he’s anchoring both of us to the earth.

I never imagined this life was mine to have.

The baby will be here before the snow returns. I think about that sometimes, how this place, once a storm shelter, became something else entirely—it became everything.

Morgan’s at the kitchen island when I come downstairs, sorting blueberries into a bowl like they’re sacred gems. He grins when he sees me, like I’m still the most fascinating thing in the room.

“Morning, sunshine. You’re glowing.”

“I’m sweating,” I correct, tugging at the hem of my oversized tank. “I think the baby’s using my lungs as a punching bag.”

He slides the bowl toward me. “Eat something. Damien will scowl if you skip breakfast again.”

“He scowls anyway,” I tease, but I take the fruit anyway, popping a berry into my mouth as Rhett walks in from the porch.

He moves straight to me like he always does, brushing a hand over the curve of my stomach before he presses a kiss just beneath my jaw.

“Kick count?”

“Active. Especially when you talk.”

“Smart kid.” His hand stays on my belly. “Knows who’s in charge.”

“Debatable,” Damien calls from the hallway, already dressed, already exuding calm competence. He crosses to me, kisses my forehead, then my lips. “Doctor says you need to rest today.”

“The doctor also said walking’s good.”

“Fine. Walk. Then a nap. Then eat. And for the love of god, stay hydrated.”

“Yes, boss.”

They fuss. It’s annoying yet adorable. It’s love.

Later, we walk the trail together slowly. Morgan holds my hand like he’s afraid the wind might carry me off. Rhett walks a little behind, protective and silent as always. Damien keeps pace beside me, eyes flicking toward the tree line like he’s watching for danger in the most peaceful place on earth.

It’s ridiculously perfect.