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And Cal.

Cal took up the head of the table the way mountains take up space: impossible to ignore, impossible to look away from. The regulars had given them a wide berth without being asked. He leaned back in his chair, one massive forearm draped along the backrest, the other hand curled around a steaming mug that definitely involved chocolate. He wasn’t talking much. He was just… watching. Steady. Unhurried. Like he’d be perfectly content to sit in that exact spot for the rest of his life if it meant he got to keep his eyes on her.

God, he looks sexy… I wonder if tonight we could try⁠—

Sage! Focus!

She laughed quietly at herself, cheeks warming.

He caught her staring.

The corner of his mouth lifted — that tiny, private half-smile that always felt like it belonged only to her. I’m here, sweetheart, his eyes said, clear as day. Take all the time you need.

Sage swallowed, heart squeezing with so much love it almost hurt.

Okay. Deep breath, Sage…

Sage had woken in Cal’s enormous bed, soft winter light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and painting the room in pale gold. Beyond the glass, the Montana wilderness stretched endless and wild — jagged peaks wrapped in fresh snow, massive black clouds gathering along the ridges and racing on high winds. It was breathtaking.

She smiled, stretching lazily as memories of the night before flooded her.

I can’t believe I did that.

Her thighs pressed together under the heavy blankets, her naked body still tingling with the taste of him, the weight of him on her tongue, the broken sounds he’d made just for her.

“Yeah… never mind,” she said out loud, laughing softly. “I believe it.”

Cal had been up long before the sun, the way he always was. She’d surfaced once in the gray dawn to the quiet slide of a closet drawer, the careful press of his warm lips against her hairline, and the solid shape of him moving away. She’d reached for him blindly and he’d caught her hand, kissed her palm, and tucked it gently back onto the pillow.

“Sleep, baby girl.”

She had — smiling as she stole his warmer side of the bed and burrowed deep into his pillows, breathing in the clean, woodsy, masculine scent that was purely him.

When she finally sat up and stretched, the blanket slipped to her waist. She caught her reflection in the mirror across the room and laughed.

“Girl… you look good.”

Her eyes drifted to the nightstand — her nightstand now — where a folded note waited on the pillow in his careful, blocky handwriting:

Coffee’s on. M.S. brought scones.

A small, hand-drawn heart sat beneath the words. It made her eyes sting with happy tears before she could pull herself together.

Downstairs, he’d been waiting on the porch — barefoot, of course — cradling a steaming mug of coffee while he watched the storm clouds sweep across the high peaks. Brutus lay beside him like a very large, sentient carpet with claws and teeth, snoring softly.

Sage had wrapped herself in Cal’s oversized coat, the heavy wool still carrying his warmth, and stepped outside. She pressed her face into the side of his arm and stayed there for a long, quiet minute, breathing him in.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair, voice low and rough from the cold.

“Cal,” she answered, imperious.

He raised an eyebrow, that tiny amused twitch at the corner of his mouth. “You okay, honey?”

She took her time circling his chair, then settled neatly into his strong lap, arms looping around his neck.

“No. No, I’m not okay.” She kept her face perfectly straight. “Because someone… is not kissing their princess senseless right now.” She paused dramatically. “Senseless. There are rules about these sorts of things, Daddy.” She wiggled her ass deliberately against the growing hardness beneath her. “And you shouldn’t break the rules…”

Cal’s grin spread slow and wicked. “You know what, princess? You’re so right. How could I ever repay you?”