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Her gaze swept over me, taking in everything—the exhaustion, the sharp edges, the weight I carried. If she saw the damage, she didn’t react to it. Instead, she brushed her thumb along my cheek, her touch familiar, too soft for the storm raging inside me.

“I’m here for you,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you, about us, since I left.”

My lips parted, breath hitching at her confession. The song in the background droned on, an echo of a past.

“Leaving you has been my greatest regret,” she continued, her voice thick with emotion. “I should’ve stayed. I should’ve given it a chance. I know I can’t change that, but Colton, I’m here now.”

I’m here now.

Her words settled deep inside me, breaking through the walls I’d built since the morning she walked away.

I turned toward her fully, my legs falling open on either side of hers, closing the distance between us. The anger, the resentment—it all faded into something else. Something dangerous.

Because she was here. In Montana. In front of me.

Real.

And I still wanted her. That same burning feeling bloomed in my chest. As much as I wanted to stay mad at her, to hold onto resentment—I couldn’t.

“I want you,” she breathed. “I want to give this a chance. As long as you’ll have me.”

I’d take anything she was willing to give me. Before I said the words, I reached out, needing to touch her, to make sure this moment was real.

“I love you, Colton.”

My fingers traced the curve of her jaw. Then, I leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

Really needing to make sure.

She tasted the same—sweet and familiar, like every good thing I’d ever known. I melted into it, into her, breathing her in like she was the only thing keeping me alive.

Because she was.

This woman was my world, my everything.

She made me feel reborn, a man I never knew I could be. And it was all for her.

To the world, to everyone else, I was Colton Stone, the grumpy asshole CEO.

To Eleanor, I was anything she needed me to be.

When I finally pulled away, my forehead rested against hers, our breaths mingling in the space between us. I exhaled, a weight lifting from my chest, and whispered, “Yes.”

She let out a soft, breathy chuckle and pulled back slightly, just enough to look into my eyes.

“I wasn’t going to come back,” she admitted, her voice laced with something raw. “Then, when I got the painting, everything made sense. You bought that for me. You listened—you really heard me. You paid attention.”

I ran my thumb over her cheek, my heart hammering at the vulnerability in her voice.

“I’ll always pay attention to you, Sunshine,” I murmured. “The world could be on fire, and you’d still have every ounce of my attention.”

The moment was tender, unguarded, as we shared the words we’d been too afraid to say before.

“I’ve been miserable the last few weeks,” she admitted, shaking her head. “To the point Laney yelled at me in my office.”

I grinned at that, the image of Eleanor being scolded making something warm settle in my chest.

“Cooper called me out today,” I added. “I punched him in the jaw.”