She's quiet for so long that my heart begins to pound against my ribs, counting each second of silence as confirmation of my worst fears.
"That depends," she says finally.
"On what?"
"On you." She turns to face me, those eyes that have haunted me since the moment we met now filled with a vulnerability she rarely allows anyone to see. "On what you want. On whether there's a place for me here, with you. Not just as a woman hiding from danger, not just as your lover, but as. As your partner. Your future."
The knot in my chest loosens, hope replacing fear with dizzying speed. "Are you asking to stay?"
"I'm asking if you want me to stay," she corrects gently. "If this thing between us is real enough, strong enough, to build a life on. If you can see a future with a woman who sometimes needs to go to Los Angeles or travel the world for work, but who always wants to come home to you. To this mountain. To the life we could make together."
I stare at her, this incredible woman who continues to surprise me with her courage, her directness, her willingness to risk rejection for the chance at something real.
"I've been afraid to ask," I admit, cupping her face in my hands. "Afraid you'd feel obligated because I protected you.Because I love you. Afraid you'd eventually resent living so far from your world. Afraid that what we have is too new, too untested to survive the reality of our different lives."
"And now?" Her eyes search mine, looking for the truth beneath my words. "What are you afraid of now?"
"Losing you," I say simply. "That's the only fear that matters anymore."
She leans into my touch, her eyes never leaving mine. "Then ask me to stay, Finn. Ask me for what you really want."
The challenge in her voice, the certainty in her eyes, breaks something open inside me. The last of my reservations, my careful walls, my practiced distance crumbling in the face of this woman who sees through every defense I've built.
"Stay with me," I say, the words both plea and promise. "Not just today or tomorrow or next week. Stay for good. Make a life with me here. Come back to me whenever your career takes you away. Let me be the place you return to. The constant you can count on. The man who will always be waiting for you, loving you, proud of everything you are."
Tears fill her eyes, but her smile is radiant. "Yes. To all of it. Yes."
I kiss her then, pouring everything I can't say into the press of my lips against hers. All the hope and fear and love and gratitude that this extraordinary woman has chosen me. My mountain. My life. My future.
When we break apart, both breathless, I rest my forehead against hers, unwilling to create even an inch of distance between us.
"I love you, Nova Wilde," I whisper against her lips. "More than I thought possible."
"I love you too, Finn McKenna." She smiles, her hands linked behind my neck. "Enough to trade stadium lights for starlight. Enough to build something real here, with you."
"It won't always be easy," I feel compelled to warn her, needing her to understand the reality of what she's choosing. "The press will follow you here eventually. Your fans will want your time, your energy. Your career will demand compromises."
"I know," she says simply. "And we'll figure it out together. Day by day. Compromise by compromise. That's how relationships work."
"Is that so?" I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips. "And you're an expert on relationships now?"
"I'm an expert on us," she counters, rising on her toes to kiss me again, quick and playful. "On what we can be together."
I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her until our eyes are level. "And what is that, exactly?"
"Everything," she says with the absolute certainty that continues to amaze me. "Everything we both never thought we'd find."
I can't argue with that. Can't deny the truth of what we've discovered in each other. Can't pretend that what exists between us is anything less than extraordinary.
Instead, I carry her inside, to the bed we've shared for weeks that now promises years. A lifetime. A future neither of us expected but both now reach for with both hands.
A home built on something true.
EPILOGUE
NOVA
TWO YEARS LATER
