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And she loved it.
Loved him.
Then she wasn’t laughing anymore. His movements turned urgent, each thrust deeper, more deliberate.
Felicity wrapped her legs around him and held on, letting him carry them both toward forever. She arched under him, frissons of pleasure cascading through her, stealing everything except his name from her mind. “Ronan, Ronan.”
“Right with you, Lissy-love.”
Their eyes met, and she watched as Ronan followed her into oblivion.
It was a beautiful sight.
And she knew, in that moment, that they would be okay.
So long as they were together.
*
“This blanket smells of dog,” Ronan muttered, tugging the throw higher over them.
He was still having trouble believing she was home. That she lay beside him instead of existing only in memories and unanswered messages.
She snuggled closer, her fingers tracing lazy circles over his chest. “Hmm.”
His gaze wandered around the tiny camper. The compact cupboards. The two-burner stove and little sink. The fold-down table. His attention settled on the map pinned to the bathroom door, crisscrossed with lines and dotted with handwritten notes. “Tell me about the trip.”
She was quiet for so long he wondered if she’d drifted to sleep.
“In the beginning,” she said at last, “it was about running. About putting distance between us.”
Ronan stayed silent, his chest tightening at the knowledge that he’d driven her to it.
“Then one morning, sitting beside the Pacific Ocean and watching the ladies frolic on the beach without a care in the world, I realized I was free.” She gave a wry laugh. “Growing up, I certainly wasn’t free. Then the Army told me where to be and what to do. The police academy did the same. Then Denver. Then Clearbrook. Every chapter of my life came with someone else’s rules.
“But for the first time, I had choices. If I wanted to stop, I stopped. If I wanted to drive another three hundred miles, I drove. Every mile reminded me that my life finally belonged to me. Nobody expected anything from me. Nobody gave me orders.”
She let out a sigh. “I started enjoying the journey. I no longer merely drifted. There was a purpose. A plan.
“And somewhere along the way, I started missing you.” She clicked her tongue and pushed herself upright, tucking the blanket beneath her arms. “Oh, I was still angry. At you. At myself for going soft. But … yeah. As maddening and infuriating and impossible as you are, I missed you, Ronan Murphy.”
A smile tugged at her lips as she looked down to meet his gaze. “Here’s something you don’t know about me — we share a birthday.”
Ronan frowned. “Your birthday’s next month. The sixth.”
“My real birthday.”
He blinked. “Serious?”
“Irks me, but yes.” She huffed a laugh. “I almost caved and contacted you.”
He shifted up beside her, leaning against the cushion that edged the bed. “Why didn't you?”
“Back then, I saw it as weakness. Going soft.” She gave a small shrug. “The truth is … I wasn't ready.”
Her gaze drifted to the map pinned to the bathroom door, and a thoughtful smile curved her lips. “Or maybe a part of me was.” She shook her head softly. “Because somehow, I ended up in Murphy’s Bend.”
Her eyes settled on him again, serious and contemplative. “You’re very fortunate to have them as your family.”
