Page 69 of Defensive Desire

The Kane family cabin.

Still standing. Still stubbornly, perfectly imperfect.

Weather-beaten wood. A rusted tin roof with a soft, steady drip from where the morning dew is melting off. The porch railing is still crooked from when Cole launched a trout through it during a particularly heated fishing contest, and the old rocking chair Mom used to sit in is tipped sideways, half buried under a blanket of pine needles.

A gentle column of smoke curls from the chimney, and the scent hits me. Campfire and sap and the lingering memory of Sunday pancakes.

Home.

I cut the engine, but my fingers stay wrapped around the steering wheel for a second too long.

Emma turns toward me in the passenger seat, her face lit by that warm cabin glow.

“This it?” she asks, eyes wide as they look out the front window, a soft smile playing at her lips.

A squirrel darts across the clearing, scattering pine cones. Somewhere in the distance, a raven caws once, the sound so sharp and echoing I swear the whole place holds its breath.

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “This is it.”

Two figures step out from behind the second truck parked beside mine. They’ve got coolers in one hand and fishing poles in the other, boots caked in red dirt.

Nate lifts a hand in greeting. Cole spots Emma and immediately lets out a loud, obnoxious whistle that echoes through the trees.

“Well, holy shit,” Cole, the youngest of the three of us, calls. “Did my grumpy-ass brother bring awoman? And she’s hot? Excuse me lady, blink twice if he kidnapped you.”

My stomach twists.

Suddenly, I don’t feel so steady.

She’s never met them. Hell, I’ve never brought anyone here. This place isn’t just a cabin… it’s a fucking time capsule. A graveyard of old arguments and scarred memories.

And now… she’s in it.

I've thrown her right in the deep end.

What if she doesn’t fit?

What if shedoes?

Nate walks over first, tall and solid as ever, his jaw grizzled with weekend stubble and that unreadable expression he always wears when he’s feeling too much.

He claps a hand on my shoulder. “Glad you made it, brother. And you brought company?”

“This is Emma,” I say, stepping around to her side as she hops down from the truck.

She extends a hand to Nate, confident and warm. That's my girl.

“Nice to meet you," Emma says, smiling.

Nate eyes her, not with suspicion—just that Kane brand of silent evaluation. “You too,” he says after a pause, giving her hand a nod-worthy shake.

Cole bounds over, all restless energy and grinning mischief. He drapes an arm around me, then promptly shifts it to Emma’s shoulders like he’s known her ten years.

“Didn’t know Logan knew how to land a woman this pretty,” he says. “You sure you’re with the right Kane, sweetheart?”

Before I can growl, Emma smirks and steps out of his grip.

“Definitely sure. Your brother’s the only one on earth with enough patience to keep up with me.”

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