Page 111 of Whispers of You
“Always. Be home before dark.”
“Call on your way.”
Holt pressed a kiss to my forehead as he released my hand. “Will do.”
The guys and Shadow piled into Nash’s SUV. I stood in the drive until they disappeared from sight.
I didn’t rush back into the cabin. Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply, letting the crisp, clean air sweep through me. It was a reclaiming of sorts. Of this refuge I’d built. It was mine again.
A smile teased my lips. No, it was ours. Because I knew I’d never ask Holt to find his own place. After being without him for so long, all I wanted was him in every way I could have him. Cooking breakfast in the mornings. Playing fetch with Shadow after dinner. Curling up in bed with me every night.
I opened my eyes and started for the cabin. The minute I got inside, I went around to every window and pulled the curtains and blinds. I was done living in the dark.
The morning light made the wood in the cabin glow an almost gold. I’d always loved that but being without it for the past several days had made me appreciate it even more—just like having Holt here with me now after missing him for so long.
I hummed as I moved around the space, tidying as I went. I cleaned up the dishes from breakfast and moved into the bedroom. My mouth curved as I took in the bed, the sheets rumpled, and pillows scattered.
As I put things back to rights, I nibbled the corner of my lip. Holt’s duffel bag sat against the room’s far wall. He’d put a couple of things in the bathroom, but that was it.
Holt was pushy in a lot of ways. When it came to my safety. With letting me know he was here to stay. But not when it came to this.
The permanence of having him here was something that Holt had left entirely up to me. I loved him all the more for it. He’d taken a choice away from me once, but he was giving it back to me now.
Tossing the final pillow into place, I turned to the dresser opposite the bed. It was an antique that had been my grandmother’s, and I loved having it here now. I crossed to it and ran my fingers over the wood. It was worn and showed its age in the grooves and gashes. But they only gave the dresser more character.
That was how I wanted my life to be. I might have scars, but that only meant I had lived this life fully. I’d stopped doing that for a while. But I was changing that now.
My fingers curled around one of the brass pulls, and I slid a drawer open. Carefully, I rearranged my socks and underwear so they could fit in half the space. Then I opened the one next to it and removed all my pajamas, refolding them so they fit next to my undergarments. I did the same thing with the middle two drawers. Then the bottom two.
I went for Holt’s duffel, laying it on the bed. I paused for a moment and wondered if I was overstepping. I had to hope Holt would see the beauty of the gesture and not be annoyed that I was pawing through his stuff.
He didn’t have much: boxer briefs and workout gear, a few pairs of jeans, tees and flannels, his jacket and boots he’d already stored in the hall closet.
I made quick work of arranging his belongings in the drawers, and the corners of my mouth kicked up as I thought about making this place trulyours. Of having more of Holt’s belongings mixed with mine. Of picking out art for the walls or painting the rooms a different color.
My hands skimmed the inside of the duffel. I pulled out his watch repair kit, placing it on the top of the dresser. My gaze caught on something at the bottom of the bag. It was so thin that I’d almost missed it.
The flash of color had caught my attention—a tiny glimpse of pink in the sea of black that was the bag’s interior. My fingers curled around what felt like plastic.
Lifting it, my heart stuttered in my chest. It was a photo. One laminated for protection but worn by the years. The corner was peeling back, and some of the plastic had been rubbed away in places.
It was the two of us. When I took in the image, it was like looking at babies—so young, with no idea what would come our way. But so unbelievably happy.
Holt had his arms wrapped around me while I had my face pressed to his neck. I wore a coral sundress that I’d bought just for the barbecue at his parents’ house. This had been only days before the attack.
I’d never seen the photo, but it wasus, Holt making me safe and at peace in his hold, and me grounding him and assuring him of just how amazing he was. I loved that us. But I thought I’d love the us we were now even more. Because I’d found a strength I hadn’t known I possessed when I had to face life alone. And it only made me love Holt more.Appreciatehim more.
And Holt could see that new strength in me. I recognized it in the glint of respect that shone in his eyes. It would never change that he wanted to shield me from the worst life had to offer, but that was who Holt was. I loved that he was the kind of man who wanted to protect everyone he cared about.
A knock sounded on the front door, pulling me out of my sappy thoughts. I started down the hall, but my steps faltered. I slid my phone from my back pocket and opened the camera app Holt had set up for me. A familiar SUV sat in my drive, and I sighed as I took in the person on my front step.
Forcing myself forward, I opened the front door. “Hey, Amber.”
She smiled at me, but the curve of her mouth was anything but genuine. “Wren. Can I come in?”
Normally, I would’ve taken whatever punches she felt the need to dole out, but I was done with it. “That depends on why you’re here.”
The fake smile slipped from her mouth. “That’s rude.”
