Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 48518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Holly runs to hug my leg. “That was so fun!”
I laugh shakily. “Yeah, kiddo. Fun.”
But my heartbeat still hasn’t settled. My lips still feel warm. My body still remembers every inch of him above me.
Ash strides past without looking at me. “I’m going inside.”
“Ash—”
He doesn’t stop. Just tosses over his shoulder, raw and quiet: “Lucy, don’t follow me.”
Which is exactly why I take one step after him—before Holly drags me toward the cocoa stand. I turn back once. Through the glass door of the firehouse, I see him—shoulders braced against the wall, head tipped back, chest rising like he’s trying to breathe normally.
Because of me.
And suddenly I know:
This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better.
For both of us.
Chapter Eleven
Ash
Iopen the cabin door the night after our snowball fight and near kiss expecting pizza delivery.
Instead I get Lucy Snow.
She stands on my porch bundled in a soft gray coat, hair curled from the cold, cheeks flushed pink. She's holding a stack of children’s books—Holly’s favorites from the library.
The sight of her hits me like a punch to the ribs. A warm one. A dangerous one.
“Ash,” she says, breath visible in the freezing air. “I just came to drop these off.”
Just. As if anything involving her is ever just anything.
Before I can respond, Holly shouts from inside, “Is it Lucy?”
Lucy’s smile wavers. “Hi, sweetheart!”
Holly barrels toward the door, socks sliding on the wood floor, clutching her stuffed polar bear by the leg.
“Miss Lucy!” she beams. “You came!”
“She brought your books,” I say, stepping back. “So you can stop asking me to reread the same one twelve times.”
“I liked that one,” Holly argues.
Lucy laughs softly, and I fucking swear, the sound warms the entire damn cabin more than the wood stove. I nod toward the living room. “You can come in.”
She hesitates. “Only for a second.”
I know why she’s saying that. We’ve been orbiting something we shouldn’t.
And she’s trying to keep herself out of my gravity well. Smart. Impossible, but smart.
She steps inside. Snow melts in her hair and I want to brush it away. I don’t.
“Thank you for bringing the books,” I say, voice gruffer than intended. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know.” She looks up at me—really looks—and my chest tightens in that now-familiar, unwelcome way.
I clear my throat. “Holly, go put your books in your room.”
“Wait!” Holly squeals. “I need to tell Teddy something first.”
I raise a brow. “It’s almost bedtime.”
“It’s important,” she argues.
Lucy hides a smile.
Holly runs down the hallway, whispering loudly to her stuffed bear as she goes. “Come on, Teddy, we gotta talk.”
I try not to laugh. Fail.
Lucy swallows a smile too. “She’s… adorable.”
“She’s exhausting,” I counter. “And yeah. Adorable.”
Even saying the word makes me feel something I don’t want to name.
Lucy shifts closer to the door like she’s preparing to leave. “I’ll let you two—”
Then Holly’s door doesn’t close all the way. We hear it. Every word. Her tiny voice drifting down the hall:
“Okay, Teddy. You gotta listen. This is a wish, so you can’t tell anybody.”
Lucy freezes beside me. I go stone-still. Holly whispers fiercely, the way kids do when they think they’re being sneaky: “I want Miss Lucy to be my family.”
My stomach drops. Lucy sucks in a breath—sharp, silent, gut-level.
I feel everything inside me pull tight. Too tight.
Holly keeps going, whispering with heartbreaking honesty:
“I know she’s not my mommy. I know. But I want her to stay. She makes Uncle Ash smile the big smile he tries to hide. And she reads the best. And she smells nice.”
Lucy’s hand flies to her mouth. I can’t move. Holly’s voice softens even more:
“And when Mommy’s gone… I’m not scared when Miss Lucy is here. So I wish she could be ours.”
Jesus Christ. The words hit me dead center. Like a roof collapsing. Like a fire roaring too fast to outrun.
I hear Lucy sniff quietly.
Holly adds: “Please, Teddy. Don’t tell. It’s a secret wish.”
Silence swallows the cabin. Lucy stares at the floor like her heart just got punched out of her chest. Mine’s not doing much better.
She whispers, “Ash…”
“Don’t,” I say, voice low and rough.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t pretend that didn’t hit you.”
She swallows hard. “I’m trying not to cry.”
“Don’t,” I repeat, softer. “I can’t take it if you do.”
Her eyes lift to mine—bright, glassy, breaking. And I’m gone. Completely. Irretrievably. Gone. I drag a hand through my hair, pacing once because standing still feels like suffocating.
“She’s six,” I say. “Six. She shouldn’t be putting that weight on anyone.”
“It’s not weight,” Lucy whispers. “It’s love.”
“That’s the problem,” I mutter. “She loves too fast.”
“She learned that from you.”
I stiffen. “No.”
“Yes,” she insists, stepping closer. “Ash… you’re her entire world right now. And you’ve spent months trying to be strong enough for both of you. Strong enough for her. Strong enough for your sister. Strong enough for everything.”