Page 12 of Mountain Man's Bonfire Beauty
That earned me a smile. “Good scared. I think.”
I pulled her into my arms then, holding her close while she melted against me. Over her head, I could see a few people glancing our way, but I didn’t care. Let them look. This woman was mine, and if she needed reassurance in the middle of a farmer’s market, she was going to get it.
“I have an idea,” I said after a moment.
“What’s that?”
“We’re going to come up with a signal. Something you can do or say if I’m getting too intense, and I’ll dial it back immediately. No questions asked, no explanations needed.”
She pulled back to look at me. “You’d do that?”
“Parker, I’d do anything to make sure you feel safe with me. Anything.” I meant every word. “The last thing I ever want is for you to be afraid when I’m around.”
“What if I’m just being oversensitive? What if?—?”
“Then you’re being oversensitive, and I’ll adjust accordingly. This isn’t about right or wrong. It’s about what works for us.”
She stared at me for a long moment, and I could see her processing this, maybe realizing for the first time that she could have needs and boundaries and someone would actually respect them instead of telling her she was being too much.
“Okay,” she finally said. “What kind of signal?”
I thought about it. “Something subtle that you can use even if we’re around other people. How about…” I took her hand and showed her how to tap her index finger against my palm three times. “Like that. I’ll feel it even if I’m not looking at you.”
She practiced the motion, her finger tapping lightly against my palm. “Three taps.”
“Three taps, and I immediately switch to indoor voice and step back if I need to. Deal?”
“Deal.” She looked up at me with wonder in her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re real.”
“I’m real. And I’m not going anywhere.” I pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Now, what do you say we head back and show everyone that we’re okay? I have a feeling Ashe is probably organizing a search party by now.”
She laughed, the sound lighter than it had been all morning. “He does seem like the type.”
As we walked back toward the market, her hand in mine, I found myself thinking about how much I wanted to find her stepdad and introduce him to my fists. But that wasn’t what Parker needed from me. What she needed was patience, understanding, and the knowledge that I’d never use my strength or my voice to intimidate her.
She needed to know she was safe with me, in every possible way. And I was going to spend the rest of my life making sure she never doubted it.
EPILOGUE
AYDEN
“Remember, Hunter, the marshmallow goes all the way to the end of the stick,” Parker said, gently guiding our six-year-old son’s small hands. “That’s it, perfect.”
I leaned back against the tailgate of my truck—the same cream-colored pickup that had witnessed our first kiss—and watched my wife work her magic with a group of kids that had grown to include not just our own children, but half the neighborhood. At thirty-three, Parker was even more beautiful than the day I’d first seen her across the harvest market. Pregnancy suited her. She practically glowed in the firelight, one hand resting protectively over the gentle curve of her belly while the other demonstrated the perfect marshmallow-roasting technique.
“Dad, can I add more wood to the fire?” Our eight-year-old son, Chandler, appeared at my elbow, his earnest brown eyes—so much like mine—focused intently on the flames.
“What’s the first rule?” I asked, though I was already reaching for the metal poker.
“Never add wood without an adult supervising, and always make sure the flames aren’t too high first,” Chandler recited dutifully.
“And?”
“And always have water nearby in case something goes wrong.” Chandler gestured toward the fire extinguisher and bucket of sand that I had positioned strategically around our backyard fire pit.
“Good job. Come on.”
As we worked together to add another log to the fire, I marveled at how natural this felt. Ten years ago, I would have been standing rigid with anxiety, cataloging every possible danger, ready to shut down the whole operation at the first sign of trouble. Now, while I was still prepared for anything, I’d learned to balance safety with the simple joy of watching my family create memories.
