Page 151 of Kentrell

Just us.

Kentrell nodded toward the cabin. “Come on, let me show you where we disappear to.”

The door creaked open, and warm air spilled out like a welcome.

I stepped in first, immediately hit with the scent of burning cedarwood and something sweet—vanilla, maybe. The cabin was dimly lit, but cozy didn’t even begin to cover it.

It was stunning.

The whole place looked like something out of a dream. Exposed timber beams stretched across the high ceiling, framing a stone fireplace with an open flame already crackling inside.The heat danced across my skin as I stepped deeper into the space, my boots echoing softly against the wide-plank floors.

A thick rug covered the center of the living room, pulled together by low leather seating and soft cream throws. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the back wall, looking out over the frozen lake and snow-dusted evergreens like we were in some kind of snow globe.

To the right, I spotted a small kitchen nook with wine glasses already set out, and a silver tray with a bottle chilling in ice.

To the left—a master bedroom, half open.

I could see the edge of a four-poster bed draped in plush white linens, and in the corner, double doors led to what I already knew was the outdoor hot tub he hadn’t even told me about yet.

“This is... insane,” I breathed, slowly turning in a circle as I took it all in.

Kentrell stepped inside behind me, closed the door with a softclick, and dropped the keys and his phone onto the table near the entryway like they were irrelevant.

“Say the word,” he said behind me, “and I’ll fly us somewhere new tomorrow.”

I turned, heart still racing with excitement and gratitude, and smiled. “You think you can keep outdoing yourself?”

He walked up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and kissed the back of my neck.

“I know I can.”

I leaned back into his chest, soaking in every second of the warmth, the quiet, the security of it all.

The city, the office, the expectations—they didn’t exist here. They couldn’t touch this.

This was a bubble.

A beautiful, secluded, burning bubble.

And I wasn’t in a rush to pop it.

I leaned back into his chest, letting his warmth settle over me as the fire cracked a few feet away. My eyes wandered back to the view—the frozen lake, the endless trees, the snow gently falling like time had slowed down just for us.

His hands slid up under my sweatshirt, just enough to rest on my bare skin, but not to start anything. Not yet. Just to remind me he was still here. Still holding me.

And in that moment, with the flicker of the flames painting gold across the walls and the stillness of everything outside...

I felt weightless.

His.

I turned my head slightly, just enough to look at him over my shoulder.

“I feel like I need to give you my surprise,” I whispered with a smile, “just to balance out the scales.”

He smirked, dipping his head to kiss the side of my jaw.

“Then I guess I’m in for a good night.”

---