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Noah shifted the sight of the gun slightly and squeezed the trigger. The bullet slammed straight into Erik’s elbow, pulling the knife away from Rowe’s throat. The man didn’t have a chance to scream before blood and brains splattered across the nearest wall as JB sent a shot through Erik’s head, killing the man before his body even collapsed to the ground.
Noah dropped his gun and rushed to Rowe’s side, pressing his hand over Rowe’s neck to staunch the bleeding. Air entered his body in broken pants, and trembling wracked his entire body. Oh God, he could have lost Rowe. It had been so close. He could have—
“I’m okay. I swear, I’m okay,” Rowe repeated over and over again as he wrapped his left arm around Noah’s waist while pressing his right hand to the long cut on his throat.
“Blood. You’re bleeding. We need a doctor. Snow—” Fuck. He wasn’t making any sense, but he was so grateful that Quinn was still listening to everything.
“The doc is already on his way. Should be there in about two minutes,” Quinn interrupted.
“Ah…hell. It’s not that bad,” Rowe mumbled.
“Shut up. You need stitches or at least some bandages,” Noah snapped. He wasn’t taking any chances. He didn’t know if Rowe was losing too much blood or if the cut was even bad. Didn’t care. He wouldn’t feel better until Snow declared him okay.
“Snow left for Morning View before the chaos even started. He figured someone was going to get shot and would need stitching up,” Quinn said.
Noah closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Rowe’s, willing the shaking to finally stop. When he’d stepped into the living room and saw Rowe being held by Erik, his entire world had been placed on the edge of that blade. Everything he wanted, his future, could have come to a screaming halt. He didn’t want anything or anyone but Rowe. The man was his soul and he didn’t want to live without his soul.
Soft lips brushed the corner of his mouth, dragging a shaky smile from him. “You saved my life,” Rowe murmured.
Noah opened his eyes and lifted his head. “Well, I did have some help.”
Rowe turned toward the broken window and grinned at JB, who was standing there in the ghillie suit, looking like a giant pile of weeds had wandered onto the porch. “Thank you, Jolly Green Giant, for saving my life.”
“Fuck you, Count Chocula,” JB said, but it was with a wide smile. He stood there for a second and shook his head. “You two definitely deserve each other.” He limped back across the porch, moving toward where Noah could see Garrett and Jackson talking.
“He’s right,” Rowe said, drawing Noah’s gaze back to his face. “We deserve each other. No one fits me like you.”
“So true.” Noah leaned in and kissed him. He wanted to let his whole body sink into Rowe, but the damn wound on his neck needed attention first. Then he could spend some much-needed time wallowing in the strength and feel of Rowe. He reluctantly broke off the kiss and smiled. “But we’ve got to talk about this flamethrower.”
Rowe flashed him his best innocent look. “What? It was supposed to be an early Christmas present for the boys.”
Noah laughed. They still had a hell of a mess to clean up. Rowe needed medical attention. And they were waiting on word that Sally was safe. But for now, it didn’t matter. Rowe was safe. JB was safe. The men who killed Chris and Paul were dead. It wasn’t pretty, but justice was done.Chapter Twenty-OneTwo days later, Noah woke to the memory of JB going home and that everything was once again right in their world. He rolled over to find Rowe propped up on his hand and watching him sleep. The cut on his neck hadn’t been that bad and was now covered in a small bandage. Rowe’s hair was damp and he smelled freshly showered. Surprised he hadn’t woken up during all that activity, Noah gave him a sleepy smile and reached for him, but Rowe put a hand on his chest.
“We need to talk,” he said.
All sleepiness disappeared as he took in the serious expression on Rowe’s face. “What is it?”
Rowe sighed and stroked his hand down Noah’s chest. “There’s been something bothering me for a while. What would you say—and I want complete honesty here—if I said I didn’t want to get married?”
Noah held his breath, finally feeling like he was ready for this conversation. He didn’t know if the talk with JB had helped or if he was just tired of wondering. He slid one leg over Rowe’s. “With complete honesty, I say I agree.”
One red eyebrow went up. “Even though I was married to Mel? I worry you’ll think my feelings for you aren’t as strong.” He curled his fingers in the hair on Noah’s chest.
