“Tell me what you need, Rosey.” He’s looking over the tops of the pine trees on the other side of the road, out into the dark. The humor in his tone has gone, replaced with an intensity that feels more natural.

I realize I’m staring at him, at his chiseled jaw and the turtleneck sweater that ends just where his beard begins.

“Oh yes. The cabin. You… I’m not sure if it’s your decision, but I’d like to stay for another week if that’s possible. The Colorado Club has housing for staff members, but it won’t be ready for a week. I don’t know if you needed this place or⁠—”

“You can stay,” he says. “That’s not a problem.”

Everything just seems to be slotting into place. This cabin. The job. As soon as I need something, it drops in my lap—like Star Falls is magic or something.

“That’s great. Thank you. And you never did tell me how much it costs per night. I can pay you in advance if that works better for you.”

“You don’t need to pay me. It was going to be empty anyway.”

“What? I have to pay you. I’m going to be here a week.”

“Seriously,” he says, still facing forward, almost like he doesn’t want to look at me. “It’s not a big deal. I just thought I might need the place. But in the end, I didn’t. You did.”

“I have to pay you. This conversation isn’t over.”

He huffs out a laugh. “If you say so.” He takes a sip of his hot chocolate and makes a humming noise that reverberates over my skin and echoes between my thighs. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it almost sounds like a growl. A sexy, powerful growl, rather than a growl where I think a limb might be in danger of being gnawed off.

“You approve?” I ask.

“The marshmallows make all the difference,” he says. “Otherwise, I might have charged you rent.” His tone is serious, but his humor is back. Maybe this is him—a mixture of stoicism and humor. He lays his head back like he hasn’t a care in the world. It’s the first time I’ve seen him relax. In the bar last night and even when he pulled up tonight, it seemed like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. With a little hot chocolate and a porch swing, Atlas has set down the heavens and earth.

We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Byron speaks first. “My dad died when I was a kid. My mom remarried, moved away and sorta reinvented herself. So coming back to Star Falls is… tricky. There’s no family to visit.”