Page 54 of Howl Lotta Love

“I know.” His voice had gone rough, low. “I want to remember every second of this one. Slow is the only way I know how to manage that.”

He eased her down into the quiet instead, the creek outside the only sound besides her breathing, and took his time in a way he hadn’t let himself the first time—the inside of her wrist, the curve of her hip, the ticklish spot below her ribs that made her jump and then laugh, breathless, before the laugh turned into something else entirely. By the time he settled between her thighs, she was shaking, and when his mouth finally closed over her, the sound that broke out of her was raw and unguarded, nothing left in it for anyone but him.

He didn’t hurry. Where the first time had been fast and hungry and half-blind with two weeks of built-up want, this was deliberate—slow enough that she felt each individual choice he was making, and stayed there until she’d lost every thread of a sentence, nothing left in her mouth but his name, no adrenaline required to get her there this time.

When he finally moved up her body and settled over her, both of them bare in the low lamplight, in no rush to be anywhere else in the world, he braced his weight on his forearms and held her gaze, clearly intent on watching every second of it happen.

“Look at me,” he murmured, and she did, holding his eyes through every slow, deliberate roll of his hips that followed, nothing hidden on either side of it. He kept the pace unbearably slow, drawing every sound out of her like he had all the patience in the world to spend, and when she finally begged him to move faster, he only kissed her instead, murmuring that they had all night, that there was no reason to rush a single second of it.

There was no danger nipping at the edges of the moment, nothing left to manage or protect against. Only the low lamp light, the sound of the creek somewhere past the window, and two people choosing each other slowly, deliberately, with absolutely nothing left to prove. When it finally crested through both of them, it came slow and complete, a long, shuddering wave instead of a single sharp peak, and it registered less as release and more like arrival—a weeks-long circling finally, quietly, coming home.

Afterward, tangled in each other in the dark, Jace pressed a kiss to her shoulder and said nothing at all, and for once neither of them reached for a single word to fill the quiet.

Dawn came gray and quiet through the guest room curtains, and Emma woke to Jace already awake beside her, watching her with an unguarded softness he never let anywhere near a boardroom, at peace in a way that made him look ten years younger than the man who ran meetings downstairs.

“You’re staring.”

“I’m allowed to.” His knuckles trailed down her arm, slow and lazy about it. “Breakfast in twenty minutes. My mother makes eggs on a schedule that predates modern civilization, and she will absolutely notice if we’re late.”

They found the kitchen already full—Roman arguing with Diesel about bacon technique, Jace’s mother presiding over the stove with the calm authority of thirty years feeding this pack, and a matching, unmistakable ease between Jace and Emma that neither of them bothered hiding this morning.

Jace’s mother read the whole situation off their faces in under a second and said nothing at all, which communicated more than an entire conversation would have. She simply set down two plates side by side at the corner of the table instead of apart, and went back to the stove humming what was unmistakably a wedding march.

Tucker’s voice crackled through the radio on the counter before anyone sat down, sharp and urgent enough to cut every other sound in the kitchen dead.

“Boss, you need to see this. Satellite’s picking up heavy vehicles moving toward the disputed parcel. Trucks, equipment, at least a dozen men.” Static crackled for a beat, and when he spoke again his voice had gone grim. “Kane’s not waiting anymore. He’s moving on it right now.”

Jace’s whole posture changed in the space of a breath, the soft, unguarded man from thirty seconds ago folded away and replaced by the one who ran a war. The shift in the air between them registered before he even opened his mouth to answer, the whole warm morning collapsing into the next fight without any warning.

SIXTEEN

JACE

Tucker’s voice cut through the kitchen radio and every plan Jace had for the morning collapsed at once.

“Trucks are already on-site. Kane’s crews are staging heavy equipment at the disputed parcel, and I count at least twenty armed men spread across the tree line. This isn’t a survey team. This is a full seizure operation.”

“How long until they can start real work on the ground?”

“Less than an hour, if they’re moving equipment already.” Tucker’s voice had gone tight. “Boss, if he breaks ground before we get an injunction filed, the legal argument doesn’t matter anymore. Possession becomes nine-tenths of a very ugly law.”

Jace was moving, adrenaline and fury both sharpening into a plan clean and useful, wolf snarling somewhere under his ribs at the thought of strangers standing on his family’s land with guns. “Get me pack warriors. Full team. Roman, Diesel, suit up now.”

“On it.” Roman had his tactical vest half-buckled before the order finished leaving Jace’s mouth.

Diesel appeared in the doorway already dressed, checking the load on a rifle, calm as breathing. “Warriors are assembling at the north gate. Your father’s already coordinating positions.”

“Good. I want a perimeter locked down before anyone gets close enough to see our faces.” Jace pulled his own gear on fast, hands steady despite the fury building low and constant in his chest. This was his land. His people. Twenty armed strangers had no business standing on ground his family had bled for, and every instinct he owned wanted blood back in return.

Emma caught his arm on the way past, laptop already open, eyes bright with the sharp focus she got when a difficult problem finally had an angle she could work. “Give me twenty minutes with Walter’s files before you move. I think there’s a legal weapon in here nobody’s found yet.”

“We don’t have twenty minutes.”

“Then give me ten, and trust me to run fast.” She kissed him, hard and quick, no hesitation in it at all. “Go save the land. I’ll save the paperwork. We meet in the middle.”

He caught her face in both hands before she could turn away, kissed her again slower, deliberate, one hand sliding into her hair like he was committing her mouth to memory, and pulled back only when his wolf started arguing about letting go at all.

“Ten minutes,” he said, low. “Then I want you at the command vehicle, behind the line, no exceptions. If I have to come find you, we’re having a conversation you won’t enjoy.”