Page 16 of Sniper Daddy
We move to the living room after that. Boyd settles me on the couch with pillows behind my back and my cast propped up. He starts cooking a late lunch that turns into an early dinner. Pasta.The domestic scene feels so normal it makes my chest ache in the best way.
While he cooks, I watch him. The way his muscles move under his shirt. The focused expression on his face. The quiet competence in everything he does.
“Boyd?” I ask softly.
He glances over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“What do you want for your life? I mean… after all of this. After the military and everything. What did you picture?”
He stirs the noodles for a moment, thinking. “I didn’t picture much for a long time. Just quiet. A place where I could breathe. Then I found Haven 7. Now I picture more. A home. A woman who wants to build something real with me. Kids someday. Teaching them how to track animals. How to be still in the woods. How to protect what matters.”
He plates the food and brings it over, sitting beside me on the couch. We eat together, shoulders brushing.
I swallow a bite and ask the question that’s been burning in me. “Was the war horrible? The things you saw?”
Boyd’s quiet for a long time. When he speaks, his voice is low. “It was. Some days I still see it. The waiting. The shots you wish you never had to take. The friends you lose. But it taught me things too. Patience. How to see what most people miss. How to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves.”
He looks at me then, really looks. “I don’t regret the man it made me. Because that man found you. And I’d go through all of it again if it meant keeping you safe.”
My eyes sting. I lean over and kiss him softly. He kisses me back, slow and deep, like he has all the time in the world. When we pull apart, I rest my head on his shoulder.
“I want that too,” I whisper. “A home. A family. Children. I never let myself dream about it before because it always felt impossible. But with you… it feels possible.”
Boyd sets our plates aside and pulls me closer. “Then we’ll make it possible. You and me. Here on this mountain. No more running, Piper. Not from anything.”
I believe him.
For the first time, I really believe him.
We spend the rest of the evening on the couch, talking quietly. He tells me more about the birds. I tell him about the silly dreams I had as a little girl—wanting a house with a big porch and a garden and laughter inside. He listens like every word matters. Like I matter.
When the sun starts to set, he carries me back to bed. He holds me close, one big hand resting protectively on my hip, and I fall asleep feeling safer than I have in years.
Tomorrow my cast comes off.
Tomorrow I’ll be able to stand on my own again.
And tomorrow, I think I might be brave enough to tell Boyd Walker that I’m falling in love with him.
That I want forever with him.
That I want the family, the home, the life he described.
With him.
Only him.
ELEVEN
BOYD
I watch Eli work with focused attention as he carefully cuts away the cast from Piper’s leg. She sits on the edge of the bed, her hand gripping mine tightly. Every small flinch she makes sends a protective surge through me, but I stay quiet, letting Eli do his job. When the last piece of plaster falls away, she flexes her foot slowly. The relief on her face is immediate and bright.
“You’re doing really well,” Eli says, running his hands over her ankle and shin. “The break healed clean. No complications. You’ll still need to take it easy for a couple more weeks. No running or jumping. But you can walk on it. Start slow. Use the crutches when you need them, but you don’t have to rely on them anymore.”
Piper’s eyes fill with tears. She stands up carefully, testing her weight. Her leg holds. It’s shaky, but it holds. She takes a few tentative steps across the room, a wide smile breaking across her face. I stay right beside her, ready to catch her if she needs me. Pride swells in my chest. She is strong. Tougher than she gives herself credit for.
“You did good,” I tell her quietly when she turns back to me.
