He gave a small shrug, eyes fixed on the fire. “They’d hate pity. They’d rather I drink, curse, and keep going.”
I smiled a little. “You’ve got two of those down.”
He laughed quietly, the sound low and rough. “Guess I’m still working on the rest.”
Encouraged, I slid closer. “What about this one?” I asked, brushing my fingers along his chest where the collar of his shirt gaped open.
He hesitated, then unbuttoned the top few buttons. The firelight glinted over a compass inked near his heart, coordinates scrolled beneath it in neat black lines.
“Coordinates?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “The spot where I decided to come home. Middle of nowhere, Afghanistan. My team was gone, andeverything around me was chaos. I looked down at the dirt and realized if I ever got back, I’d do something different. I’d stop living like my life ended out there.”
The words were quiet but steady, and something in my chest ached for him. I reached up, resting my palm flat over the compass. “You found your way home,” I said.
“Eventually.”
“Show me the rest,” I whispered.
He didn’t hold back this time. The shirt came off, the soft cotton brushing against my arm as it slid away. Across his ribs, in bold, clean script, were the wordsFortis et Fidus—Brave and Faithful.
I traced the letters, my fingers trembling slightly. “Latin?”
He nodded. “My team’s motto. We borrowed it from the Marines. I kept it because… well, it felt like a promise. To them. To myself.”
I looked up at him, the firelight catching the faint scars along his shoulders, and saw the man behind every story—someone broken open and rebuilt one piece at a time.
He caught my hand before I could pull away. “Your turn,” he said quietly. “Tell me something about you. How’d a girl from Show Low end up here in Lovelace?”
I smiled, the memory both distant and comforting. “I wanted a fresh start. After my engagement fell apart, everything in Show Low reminded me of what I’d lost. I packed my car with what I could fit and drove until the road ran out six years ago.”
“And it ended here.”
“Yeah.” I glanced around the cabin. “Callie and Tessa were the first people I met, before they started drag racing. They took me in and helped me get settled. Before I knew it, I had the shop, a home, and a life that finally felt like mine.”
He studied me for a long moment, his gaze softening. “Guess we both needed a fresh start—the only difference is that I came back to mine.
“Looks that way.”
The quiet settled again, thicker this time, laced with something electric. My hand still rested on his chest, my pulse echoing the slow beat beneath my palm. The flames snapped, throwing shadows across the room.
When I finally looked down again, my eyes caught the dark ink on his wrist—the star within a star. “You never told me about this one.”
His smile faded a little. “That one’s… different.”
“How?”
He took a breath, eyes on the fire. “Her name was Valentina. We met overseas. She was a fellow service member—smart, brave, a little reckless. We helped each other through some rough nights. But she was reassigned before I left. And I never saw her again. The tattoo was supposed to be a reminder of what it means to keep moving, even when you leave part of yourself behind.”
I nodded, though my stomach tightened. Jealousy was a strange thing—unexpected, unwelcome, but undeniably human. “And do you still think about her?”
He looked at me then, straight through me. “Sometimes. But not the way I used to. Valentina and I were just two ships in a storm, clinging to each other for warmth. You can’t build a life on that.”
I didn’t know why the answer made my chest ache, only that it did. “Good,” I whispered, leaning closer. “Because I’m going to make you forget her once and for all.”
Sawyer’s eyes darkened as his hand slid along the back of my neck. “You already have.”
A log in the fireplace shifted, sparks flashing against the glass as I kissed him. The world outside the cabin disappeared—the past, the fear, all the things waiting for us in the morning. There was only this moment, the sound of the fire, and his heartbeat under my palm.
