Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 39414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Then he pauses, eyes sliding to my belly. “Is the baby coming tonight?”
I laugh. “Not tonight.”
He looks relieved. “Okay. Because Margie has cookies.”
Margie beams. “Damn right I do.”
Wyatt leans in and kisses Beau’s forehead, then Poppy’s hair. His hand slides to my cheek for a brief second—just enough to ground me—before he steps back.
Margie grabs her bag, points at me like she’s giving orders. “Eat something. Rest. And if you two break that bed, Wyatt Cooper, you’re buying me a new one.”
Wyatt’s grin turns lethal. “Margie—”
Margie waves him off. “I said what I said.”
The door closes behind them.
The shop goes quiet.
Wyatt looks at me like he’s been waiting five years for this exact silence.
My pulse jumps. “Don’t.”
His eyes flick to my mouth. “Don’t what?”
“Look at me like that,” I say, but my voice is already softer than it should be.
Wyatt takes one slow step closer. “Like my wife?”
I lift my chin, pretending. “Like your—”
“My forever bride,” he finishes, voice low.
Heat slides down my spine. Pregnancy has turned my body into a live wire. Wyatt knows it. He doesn’t push gently. He never has.
He cups my belly with one hand, thumb stroking the curve like it’s a secret. “You okay?”
I swallow. “I’m… tired.”
Wyatt’s gaze sharpens. “Then you’re coming with me.”
I blink. “Where?”
His mouth tilts. “Hot spring.”
My brows lift. “The hot spring.”
“The one I found first,” he says, voice smug. “The one I’m still not telling anyone about.”
I snort. “You told Levi once.”
Wyatt’s eyes narrow. “Levi doesn’t count. Levi forgets things on purpose.”
I laugh, then wince slightly as the baby shifts. Wyatt’s hand tightens instantly, protective.
“Easy,” he murmurs.
I glare at him. “Don’t start treating me like glass.”
Wyatt leans in close. “You’re not glass. You’re mine.”
My breath catches hard.
Five years, two kids, one baby on the way, and he still says it like that—possessive but reverent, like the word mine is a promise to protect, not a chain.
I swallow. “You’re going to get me in trouble saying things like that.”
Wyatt’s gaze drags down my body—sweater stretched over my belly, leggings, hair messy from a full day of being everyone’s everything. “You’re already in trouble.”
He kisses my mouth—slow, firm, familiar—then pulls back just enough to murmur, “Go change. Bring the robe. I’ll start the truck.”
I try to sound annoyed. “You’re bossy.”
Wyatt’s smile is wicked. “You married me.”
I mutter something under my breath and go to the back room, heart pounding like I’m not a grown woman with kids and responsibilities. Like I’m still the woman who answered an ad she shouldn’t have and found a man who didn’t let her run.
Twenty minutes later, we’re driving up the mountain with the heater blasting and Wyatt’s hand on my thigh like he owns the right.
He does.
The road is quiet, trees towering, stars starting to bloom above the peaks. Devil’s Peak turns into a different world up here—one that belongs to wind and snow and secrets.
Wyatt parks at the turnoff and kills the engine. The silence is thick and good.
He leans over and kisses me again, slower this time, as if he’s got all night and intends to use it.
I pull back, breathless. “Wyatt.”
His thumb brushes my lower lip. “Yeah.”
“We’re… hiking?” I say, because it feels safer than talking about what’s happening between us.
Wyatt’s grin turns warm. “Short walk.”
He gets out first, comes around to my side, and opens the door like a gentleman who could also snap someone in half if they looked at me wrong. He offers his hand.
I take it.
His grip is steady, warm, familiar. He guides me carefully over the snow-packed ground without making me feel fragile. It’s an art—protecting without smothering.
The hot spring sits in a natural hollow surrounded by rocks and pines, steam rising into the cold night like breath.
I stop at the edge, staring.
Even after all this time, it feels unreal—our private slice of heaven tucked into the mountain like it’s been waiting for us.
Wyatt steps behind me, arms sliding around my waist. His palm settles on my belly again, possessive in the sweetest way.
“Still ours,” he murmurs.
I lean back into him. “Still yours?”
Wyatt’s mouth brushes my ear. “Always mine.”
My skin prickles, heat pooling low.
I turn in his arms and glare at him. “You’re going to make me blush.”
Wyatt’s eyes darken. “Good.”
We undress without rushing, the steam wrapping around us like a curtain. Wyatt helps me step down into the water, his hands steady on my hips.
The warmth hits my body and I exhale so hard it’s almost a moan.
Wyatt’s gaze sharpens. “That good?”
I glare, but my voice betrays me. “Yes.”
He steps in behind me and pulls me back against his chest, water swirling around us. His arms wrap around me, one hand on my belly, the other sliding up my ribs.
I close my eyes for a beat, letting myself sink into him.
Wyatt kisses my shoulder. “You’ve been running all day.”