Price's family home sat in the middle of nowhere. It was peaceful and snowy, the complete opposite of the warmth and chaos inside the house.

For the soldiers, this gathering a rare moment where the burdens of work fell off and they were replaced by good food and comfort. You, being Price's daughter; had grown up surrounded by men your father called his brothers, accustomed to their rough edges and hidden soft sides.

There was one man who always caught your interest. Simon Riley. He used to be a shadow in your father's stories, a name mentioned with high respect, and when he arrived that afternoon, there was that familiar pull you always felt seeing him.

But every year, your father reminds the team. You were strictly off limits. No exceptions. The warning wasn't delivered with any humor, any joking. It was an order as stern and strict as one given in the field.

Over the years, Simon started to test those rules. You were magnetic for reasons he couldn't explain. Maybe it was the way you moved, effortlessly commanding, the warmth in your voice, the laughter that came from you was contagious. Whatever it was, it pulled at something buried deep within him; and he had to chase it.

He knew he shouldn't. Price's warning had been clear.

Every chance he got, he made them count. A brush of his fingers against yours when you handed him his mug of tea, a quiet compliment disguised as a passing remark, and when your eyes met his - he allowed himself to linger in that connection.

Simon found you in the quiet of the kitchen, the bustle of the living room muffled by the walls. You were carefully arranging cookies on a platter, your focus so intent that you didn't even notice him at first.

His broad shoulders filled the frame of the doorway. "You ever sneak one?" his voice was laced with a bit of humor.

"I wouldn't dare, my dad runs a tight ship." You joked, giving him one of your signature smiles that made his chest feel tight.

"Yeah but everyone has weaknesses," he murmured, his eyes on yours now; unrelenting.