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The Maddox cabin has turned into chaos over the years.

Loud, wild, beautiful chaos.

And somehow I love every second of it.

“Rhett.”

I glance over my shoulder.

And there she is.

Still the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

Nora steps out onto the porch wearing jeans, boots, and one of my flannels hanging off one shoulder, a bottle of wine dangling from her fingers while moonlight catches in her dark hair. The years softened some of her sharper edges, but not the fire underneath them. That never changed.

Thank God.

“You’re staring again,” she says.

“Been doing that for ten years.”

“And somehow you still haven’t learned subtlety.”

“Not interested in subtlety.”

Her mouth curves immediately.

Still gets me every time.

I hold my hand out automatically. “Come here.”

“You’re very bossy for someone whose children just unionized against him.”

I snort. “Those girls are yours. Don’t put that on me.”

“The boys are definitely yours though. Archer called earlier and said Hudson tried building a zipline off his roof.”

“Kid’s innovative.”

“Kid’s feral.”

I grin as she reaches me, and the second her hand slides into mine, something settles low in my chest the way it always does.

Home.

That’s what she became.

Not the cabin.

Not the mountain.

Her.

“Archer sounded scared,” she adds as we head down the porch steps together.

“Good. Builds character.”

“You traumatize your friends for fun.”