Deep.
The bed creaks under us, her voice breaking on my name, my own breath tearing out of me as I lose the last thread of control I’ve got.
“Dallas…”
I feel it hit her. I feel the shiver run through her, the moment her body tips over the edge…
And I follow her straight into it.
When the heat finally breaks, and the world slows back down, I don’t let go of her.
Not right away.
The storm’s passed, and now all that matters is keeping her still. She settles against me on the bed, bare legs tucked under her, cheek pressed to my chest as it’s the most natural place in the world.
Maybe it is.
I reach for the blanket and pull it around her shoulders. She sighs into it, the sound loosening a tightness in my ribs.
“Dallas,” she says quietly, testing the word now that everything’s changed.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve never had anyone…” She trails off, swallowing. “Not like this.”
Something heavy settles in my chest. Protective. Certain.
“You do now,” I say. “And you’re not alone here. Not on this ranch. Not with me.”
Outside, the wind moves through the trees, low and familiar. The house creaks the way it always does when the temperature drops.
Faith curls closer, her fingers gripping my shirt, anchoring herself.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she admits. “The staying. The choosing.”
I kiss the top of her head, slow and unhurried. “You don’t have to know yet.”
She exhales, forehead pressing into my collarbone. “I love you.”
I cup her face, make her look at me.
“I love you too,” I say with no hesitation.
Her smile is small and wrecked and beautiful.
She rests her head back against my chest, listening to my heartbeat, memorizing it. I keep my arms around her, solid and sure, while the ranch settles into the night.
It feels like home.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Faith
February 4th
The police stationsmells like old coffee and disinfectant, and a faintly metallic scent that makes my stomach roll the second we walk through the door.
It shouldn’t feel this hard to stand in a building that’s meant to help people.
