Mark and I still hadn't spoken outside our desperate conversation on the road. There hadn't been a chance for me to say all the things that I wanted to say.
Jim stood with his hand on the doorknob now and faced me. I stood at the fire, a mug of tea in my hands. What looked like a glower was, I imagined, deep concern. That Mark's father would give me that look sent a warm bolt through me.
“You'll be okay, Stella Marie,” he said quietly. “You're one tough cookie.”
I managed a small smile. “Thanks for everything, Jim.”
He winked. “My pleasure. I've missed this. The good stuff always happens after you retire,” he finished in a mumble, then turned to his son. “Call.”
“I will.” Mark embraced him with a manly back slap. “Thanks, Dad.”
Megan shuffled forward and grabbed her coat off a hook. Snow fell even harder now, accumulating on the porch in piles already inches deep. “We'll walk you out, Dad.” She turned to Mark. “Then we'll go hang out in the kitchen and help with dessert for a bit. Give you some time. I'll usher Mom home after that, okay? She won't dote all night long.”
He nodded. “Thanks, Meg.”
Megan gave him a quick hug, Justin smacked him on the shoulder, and they both shuffled out. Mark quietly closed the door behind them. Then he sighed, leaned his head on it for a moment, and let out a long breath. The silence rang through the cabin, at odds with the bustling environment that had moved around for the last several hours. I opened my mouth but closed it again when he straightened and swung around to face me.
Fatigue lined his features. A thousand other things, too. Concern. Fear. Worry. After we'd returned, he'd changed into a pair of workout pants and a long-sleeved shirt that pulled tight across the shoulders. He'd watched me carefully, and stayed close. Like me, he'd seemed to carefully avoid any direct interaction, as if that would force us to acknowledge and face exactly what happened.
“Stell,” he whispered huskily as he closed the space between us. With a trapped sob, I let him capture me in his arms and crush me against him. My legs wound around his waist as I tried to claw him closer. A little cry peeped out of me as he tightened his hold.
“I thought I'd lost you,” he whispered.
“Me too.”
For so many heartbeats I lost track, I kept my arms around him, my body pressed to his. He stood there, holding me in front of the fire, until I pulled back, framed his face in my hands, and whispered, “You saved me.”
“No, Stella Marie. You've saved me.”
Tears filled my eyes when I pressed a slow kiss to his lips. My fingers found their way to his hair again. His hand slid up my back as I tilted my head to deepen the kiss. He growled, whirled us around, and dropped us both to the couch. His warmth enveloped me from head to toe as he kissed me breathless, pulling a blanket over us as I stretched along with him.
I pulled away to catch my breath.
“Thank you, Mark.”
“I love you.” He pushed a strand of hair out of my face. “I love you more than anything I've ever known.”
Tears filled my eyes again. “I love you too.”
He broke slightly beneath me at the words, then swallowed hard. “Can I stay with you tonight? I just . . . I want you near. Forever, Stella. This is it for me. There is nothing but us now.”
“Me too,” I whispered, then burrowed into his neck and closed my eyes. He tucked me into his side and played with my hair. I tried to memorize the feel of him. The smell of him. The absolute comfort of his heartbeat slamming in my ear.
Because he saved me, and I saved him.
And always would.
Epilogue Stella Marie | Six months later.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous before.”
Mark stared at the building set beneath a bright blue sky. Sunlight pushed through the rental car windows with a curl of warmth that chased away the lingering spring storm we’d left behind in the mountains.
“Not ever?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nope.”
I reached over, grabbed his hand, and pulled his chin until he faced me. Then I smiled. “Grandma is going to love you, Mark. Don’t stress about it.”
He slammed a quick kiss into my lips, then disappeared. He was already out the door and stretching from the hour-long drive as I chuckled, climbed out, and shoved the keys into my back pocket. Green shrubs, trees, and the quiet shuffle of movement filled the air as I beeped the lock, then reached out for Mark. His hand slid effortlessly into mine, without a second thought, and I tugged him toward the main door.
“She’s a pretty easy audience.”
“Well, she did give Joshua your number.”
I shot him a look of warning—he better not bring that up—and he winked. Joshua wallowed in prison on several local and federal charges. He’d be locked up for a good, long while. Just the way he deserved.
“I’m excited to see her,” I said with a delicious little shiver. He squeezed my fingers.
“Me too, Stella Marie. Me too.”
He pulled the door open and put a hand on the small of my back as I slipped by, the hot Floridian air ushering us inside. Two steps into the main waiting area, and I came to a quick stop with a gasp.
A banner of balloons and an assortment of people in wheelchairs, walkers, or loafers, waited only a few feet away. Grandma sat in the midst of them, her pillow of gray hair and bright smile like a beacon.
“Welcome!” came several stuttered shouts, and Grandma smacked an old man with a baseball cap that said RANGER across the top.
“Bad timing!” she squawked. “We’re supposed to say it together!”
Another
