Bella woke to the soft crackle of the fireplace and the faint smell of cinnamon in the air.
For a moment she lay still, trying to remember where she was. The ceiling above her wasn't the familiar white of her city apartment but warm wooden beams. The blankets were thick and soft, and the air—though chilly at the edges—felt safe.
Then the memories flooded back.
The snowstorm.
The double booking.
Ethan Cole's steady eyes in the candlelight.
Lily's laughter filling the cabin like it belonged there.
Bella rubbed her eyes, sat up, and glanced at the frosted window. Snow had stacked itself in heavy drifts overnight, nearly covering the lower half of the glass. The world was white and silent.
She exhaled. "We're definitely still stuck."
A gentle knock sounded on her door.
"Bella?" Ethan's deep voice came through. "Are you awake?"
She scrambled to smooth her hair even though she knew it made no difference. "Yes! I—I'm up."
He opened the door just enough to be polite, his tall figure framed by the warm glow of the hallway. He had changed into a dark sweater and jeans, his hair still damp as if he'd been outside.
"The roads are sealed," he said. "Power's still out. But the stove works, so I made breakfast."
She blinked. "Breakfast?"
"Lily insisted," he added, and something softened his features, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly. "She said guests deserve pancakes."
Bella felt her heart warm in a way she wasn't prepared for. "I'd love some."
"Good," he replied, and left the doorway so she could get ready.
⸻
When Bella stepped into the kitchen, the scene was almost surreal.
Ethan stood at the stove flipping pancakes with practiced ease—which surprised her. He didn't look like a man who made whimsical breakfasts. He looked like a man who repaired things with his bare hands and drank black coffee without blinking.
But there he was.
Lily sat at the table wearing mismatched socks and a wide grin. "Bella! Daddy made the pancakes shaped like snowmen! Look!"
Bella laughed. "Wow, that's impressive."
"It was an accident," Ethan muttered, though the faint smile on his face made Bella suspect otherwise.
She joined them at the table, feeling strangely like she belonged there.
Halfway through breakfast, Lily swung her legs excitedly. "Bella, will you play in the snow with me later? Daddy said the storm might calm down this afternoon!"
Ethan raised a brow at Bella, as if giving her an out.
She smiled. "Of course I'll play with you."
Lily squealed, knocking over her cup of juice.
Ethan moved instantly, catching it before it spilled over the table. His reflexes were fast—almost startling. Bella stared for a moment, caught off guard by how effortlessly competent he was with everything.
And how gentle he was with his daughter.
"You okay, Lily?" he asked quietly.
Lily nodded, leaning into him with trust only a child could give.
Something tugged deep in Bella's chest.
⸻
Later that morning, Bella slipped on her coat and stepped outside. The air was bitingly cold, but breathtaking. Snow blanketed everything in pristine white, and the sky hung low with thick, pearly clouds.
Ethan was outside, clearing snow from the cabin walkway with a shovel. He paused when he saw her, leaning against the handle with steady arms.
"Morning," he said.
She returned the greeting, pulling her scarf tighter. "Need help?"
"You don't have to—"
"I want to," she said gently.
His eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe gratitude—but he handed her a smaller shovel from the shed.
They worked side by side in the quiet, the only sounds the crunch of snow and their shared breaths fogging the air. Bella found comfort in the rhythm of it. There was something grounding about moving in sync with someone else, especially someone who rarely said more than necessary yet somehow made her feel less alone.
"You didn't sleep well," Ethan said suddenly, without looking at her.
She blinked. "What makes you say that?"
"You seemed tired earlier."
She paused, resting her shovel in the snow. "I guess…my mind is still catching up."
"From the breakup?"
She inhaled sharply. "Yeah."
Ethan looked at her then—really looked—and Bella felt stripped bare in the honesty of his gaze.
"You don't have to pretend you're fine here," he said simply. "You're allowed to rest."
Rest.
It felt like a foreign word.
Bella swallowed, then nodded. "Thanks. I…needed to hear that."
A faint smile touched his lips. "Good."
Before Bella could respond, Lily's voice rang out from behind them.
"Snow angels!"
The little girl came running out of the cabin bundled in two scarves, three sweaters, and boots that seemed slightly too big. She flung herself onto a patch of fresh snow and began waving her arms dramatically.
Bella laughed. "She's adorable."
"She's a handful," Ethan corrected, but his voice was warm.
Then Lily caught Bella's hand. "Come make angels with me!"
Bella didn't hesitate.
She lay beside Lily in the snow, the cold seeping pleasantly through her coat as they moved their arms and legs in giant swooshes. The world around her seemed to pause. The wind softened. The sky brightened slightly.
Ethan watched them, the lines of worry on his face easing into something gentler… softer… lighter.
It was a look Bella didn't understand yet, but it made her heart skip.
⸻
After their snow play, they returned inside, red-nosed and breathless.
Bella peeled off her gloves and noticed Ethan rubbing his shoulder with a wince.
"You okay?" she asked gently.
"Old injury," he said quickly. "Doesn't matter."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Does it hurt often?"
Ethan didn't answer right away.
Bella didn't push—but she tucked the information away. He carried more weight than he let on.
Before anyone could speak, Lily tugged Bella toward the couch. "Story time!"
Bella followed, settling beside her as Lily placed a children's book in her lap.
Ethan watched them from the kitchen as he made coffee. Bella could feel his gaze on her, warm and steady… a little too long for casual.
Her heart fluttered unexpectedly.
This man was dangerous—not because he was harsh, but because he was kind in ways he didn't even realize. Because he held his daughter like she was a miracle. Because he moved through quiet pain without complaining. Because he made space for Bella without her asking.
She tried to look away.
But Ethan didn't.
And Bella knew—without a doubt—that something was beginning between them.
Something neither of them had planned.
Something neither of them would be able to stop.