“I have to ask.” He swallows. “Because I need to hear you say it, and I’m scared shitless of the answer.”
I prop my chin on his chest and wait.
“After everything that happened. The kidnapping. The gun. All of it.” His eyes find mine. “Are you staying?”
I open my mouth to respond, but he doesn’t let me.
“If you’re going to run again, I need you to tell me.”
I press my palm flat against his sternum. His pulse is fast under my hand.
“I left because I was terrified Leo would grow up in a world where his father might not come home. I told myself I was protecting him.” I hold his eyes. “But all I did was make sure he didn’t have a father at all.”
His hand comes up and covers mine against his chest.
“Is it dangerous? Yes. I’m not stupid, and I’m not pretending it isn’t. But a week ago, your brothers put their lives on the line for Leo and me. That’s more protection than I can ever give him on my own.”
I press my forehead against his chest.
“Leo has you now. He has this family. Shelby buys him coloring books. Crash lets him steal fries off his plate. Trapper taught him how to high-five, and he won’t stop doing it to strangers.”
Duke grins.
“I’m done running, Duke. I’m staying. This isn’t temporary.”
His hand finds the back of my neck. He pulls me to his mouth and kisses me. Slow and thorough, his lips against mine, his palm warm on my jaw.
When he pulls back, his thumb brushes the faded bruise along my jawline. “Nobody touches you again. Nobody gets close enough to try.”
“I know.”
“This is forever.” He holds my eyes. “You’re my Old Lady. This is your house. That ring I’ve been carrying around for a week goes on your finger whenever you’re ready.”
I smile. “Ring?”
“Don’t act surprised.” He bites my lower lip. “I know you saw it.”
I did see it, and it’s exactly what I would have picked out for myself.
A sound from down the hall. A thump, then babbling, then the unmistakable rattle of crib bars being shaken by a two-year-old who has decided that sleep is over and the world needs to hear about it.
I push up on one elbow. “He’s up.”
Duke’s hand lands on my hip. “I got him.”
He rolls out of bed, pulls on some shorts, and grabs a T-shirt from the chair.
He pauses at the door. Turns back. Leans down and kisses me one more time, his hand braced on the mattress, his mouth warm.
“I’m going to get my son.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “Being a dad is the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened to me. Besides you.”
He disappears down the hall, and thirty seconds later, I hear him.
“Morning, buddy. You ready to go destroy the kitchen?”
Leo’s answer is a shriek of delight.
I pull the sheet up to my chest and lie in our bed, listening to my son and his father’s footsteps on the hardwood. Then I hear the refrigerator opening, and Duke’s low rumble narrating the breakfast options.
