Page 14 of The Agent’s Curvy Seduction

“Okay,” she says softly. “I trust you.”

Those three words hit harder than any of the filthy ones she gave me last night.

I turn my hand over and lace our fingers together. “Good. Because I’m not letting anything touch you. Not now. Not ever.”

She squeezes my hand once and doesn’t let go.

Outside, the forest is quiet. Inside, the only thing that matters is the woman sitting across from me and the future I’ve already started building around her.

Anyone who tries to take that away is going to learn exactly how far I’m willing to go.

five

. . .

Willow

The afternoon sun is still high when Hudson leads me out behind the cabin, a battery lantern he doesn't need yet clipped to his belt and the portable target tucked under one arm. He's been quieter since the dark-web alert, more watchful, but there's an ease in the way he sets up the target that tells me this is as much about giving me something steady to hold onto as it is about protection.

He stands behind me, big hands adjusting my grip on the handgun, his chest solid against my back.

"Feet a little wider," he murmurs near my ear. "You're still tensing your shoulders. Breathe out when you squeeze."

I miss the first three shots. He doesn't get frustrated. He just corrects my stance again, voice calm and steady, and stays right there until I finally hit the edge of the target. The fourth shot lands closer to center. I turn to look at him, grinning like an idiot, and catch the proud flicker in his eyes before he can hide it.

"You're a quick learner," he says.

"You're a decent teacher."

He huffs a quiet laugh and takes the gun from me, unloading it with practiced ease. The domestic simplicity of it—him teaching me, me leaning into his chest, the quiet forest around us—hits harder than any of the intense moments we've already shared. My heart does something complicated and scary in my chest.

We're still cleaning up when the light starts to fade, gold sliding into blue over the treeline. Hudson checks his phone once, twice, and by the time we head back inside, the sky outside the kitchen window has gone dark.

There's a knock at the cabin door. Hudson is already moving before I can settle onto the couch. He checks the security feed on his phone and then unlocks the door, and something in the set of his shoulders tells me whoever is outside isn't a threat.

Three people step inside.

The first is a tall, broad man with dark hair going silver at the temples and tattoos covering both arms. He has the kind of solid, unsmiling presence that makes the room feel smaller. Behind him is another man, same age, same build, but with an easier smile and sharper eyes that take in every exit in under two seconds. Between them walks a curvy woman with warm skin and long dark hair, wearing a soft sweater and jeans that hug her hips. She looks like she belongs with them in a way that feels immediate and permanent.

Hudson closes the door and turns to me. "Willow, this is Dash Keller and Finn Callahan. They work with me. And this is Madelyn Graves—she's married to both of them."

Dash gives me a short nod. Finn offers a warmer smile and says, "Good to finally meet you. Hudson has been tight-lipped, but we got the important parts."

Madelyn steps forward first. She's beautiful in a soft, grounded way, and when she pulls me into a quick hug I don't expect, it startles me enough that I hug her back.

"You're safe with us," she says simply. "These two don't let people they care about stay in danger. And neither do I."

I glance at Hudson. He's watching me like he's waiting to see if I'll bolt. I don't.

We end up in the kitchen because Madelyn declares that no one should talk serious business on an empty stomach. She and I end up side by side at the counter while Dash and Finn talk in low voices near the fireplace. She shows me how Dash likes the garlic bread sliced and how Finn always steals the first piece of whatever's cooking. She tells me she works as a waitress at The Rusty Anchor, the bar she runs with Dash and Finn. They met when she came in from out of town on the run from some bad dude. Now the three of them own the place together. It feels strangely easy. Like she's decided I'm already part of whatever this is.

Hudson drifts over after a while and takes over the stove. He burns the first batch of toast completely. The smell hits the whole cabin and I laugh so hard I snort, which only makes it worse. Madelyn starts laughing too. Dash mutters something about Hudson being dangerous with a frying pan. Finn just shakes his head and opens a window. Hudson looks at me over the smoke with an expression I can't quite name, and the warmth that spreads through my chest has nothing to do with the oven.

Later, after we've eaten and the plates are cleared, we settle into the living room. Madelyn is curled on the couch between Dash and Finn like it's the most natural place in the world. Dash has one arm along the back of the couch behind her. Finn's hand rests on her knee. They look settled. Claimed. Happy in a way that doesn't need to announce itself.

I sit next to Hudson on the opposite couch. His hand finds the back of my neck, thumb stroking absently over my skin while the conversation drifts. They talk about the pub, about a new beer Finn wants to try, about the way Madelyn still hides the good cookies from both of them. No one presses me for details about the threat or the accident. They just… include me. Like I've always been here.

At one point Madelyn catches my eye and smiles, soft and knowing. I smile back, but inside something is shifting too fast.