Page 69 of Who Let The Wolves Out?

It’s not loud.

It’s not dramatic.

Just honest.

Like the way his hand finds mine on the floor between us.

“I think I’m really,actuallyhappy,” he says again, a little wonder in his voice.

My throat goes tight.

I lean my head on his shoulder, paint and all.

“Me too,” I whisper.

Later, after the brushes are rinsed and the last string of lights finally stops sagging, I curl up on the cabin’s only finished couch with my knees tucked under me and a warm cup of mint tea in my hands.

Jason’s in the tiny kitchen nook, humming something tuneless as he stacks leftover sandwiches into a container with far more concentration than necessary.

The lamp glows soft in the corner. There’s music playing low on the speaker—something dreamy and slow. Outside, crickets chirp and a soft breeze rustles through the pine just beyond the screened windows.

It’shome.

I take a long sip of tea and just let myself sit in it.

The quiet.

The closeness.

The peace.

It’s the kind of moment I used to think I didn’t deserve. Too soft. Too safe. Toosteady.

But now? It feels like breathing for the first time.

Jason glances over his shoulder. “You good, babe?”

I nod, smiling into my cup. “Yeah. Just... soaking this in.”

He grins. “Pretty decent for two days’ work and one minor glitter explosion.”

“Feels like a real home.”

“Damn right it does.”

And itdoes.

It really, really does.

CHAPTER 24

JASON

Iknock on Julie’s office door with exactly the amount of confidence I don’t have.

Which is none.

Zip.

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