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“Hey,” he called to the man across the way. “You didn’t see a girl named Lena while you were staying here, did you?”

“No, sorry. It’s just been us.” He laughed and shook his head. “And that couple in cabin eight. Definitely wanted us to join them.”

Theo laughed too, feeling vindicated for what he told Fee about them.

“Thanks anyway.” He waved goodbye and continued his trudge through the snow back to his cabin. Unfortunately, Rafe’s words followed him.

She’s yours.

Maybe Rafe was right. Maybe he should just tell her. Maybe he should tell the woman he’d been keeping at arm’s length for a decade that he actually thought they were fated to be together, and they should form an unbreakable bond between them.

Maybe he should tell Phoebe she was the other half of his soul.

Jesus Christ. How could he possibly do that?

Her sweet little moans from the night before drifted back to him. He wanted more of that. Maybe it wouldn’t be that hard after all.

He stopped in front of the cabin and spotted Phoebe through the window. She stood in the dappled sunlight streaming in. Her honey-blonde hair flopped over one eye as she stretched her arms over her head. She was wearing baggy jeans and a tank top this morning. Her stretch revealed a strip of skin and the sun kissed it, turning her gold. She was the sun. And he was an absolute asshole to think he could resist her pull.

“Got us some pastries,” he said as he walked into the cabin. He had the fleeting and sudden wish that they could stay here forever, protected from the real world. “They’re probably a few days old, but it was all they had in the main cabin.”

“Thanks,” Fee said, giving him a small smile. She took the bag from his hands and peeked inside. “Ooo, cherry Danish.” She took it and wandered back over to the couch. She pulled off a piece of sticky pastry and popped it into her mouth. At some point, she’d stolen his sweatshirt from yesterday and put it on over her tank top.

Theo sighed.

How the fuck was he supposed to resist her when she did shit like that?

“About last night…”

Her gaze flicked to his.

“We don’t need to talk about it,” she said, licking the Danish’s icing from her fingers.

Jesus Christ. She might as well have been licking his dick.

“We don’t?”

“No. I think we … handled it.” Her gaze flicked to his again and lingered. The memory of her saying his name as she came shot through him. Absolutely nothing was handled. In fact, he would argue, everything was much, much worse.

He opened his mouth to say that, but Fee interrupted him.

“How are the roads?”

Okay. Apparently, they were just moving on.

“Fine. They should be good whenever we’re ready to go.”

Fee nodded. “Good.”

“Right. Good.”

He stood there like an idiot watching her finish off her pastry, the bag still clutched tight in his hand. What was he supposed to do now? How did one segue from breakfast talk to: so, I think we are destined to be together forever. How do you feel about that?

“And I met the guy from the last cabin. He hasn’t seen Lena,” he said instead.

Fee didn’t look the least bit surprised by that.

“Oh. I guess that settles it, then.”