She nodded, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never been more sure.”
I slid inside her slow, careful, letting her body guide me. Her breath hitched, her legs wrapped around my waist, and for a moment, everything else fell away.
It wasn’t just sex. It was something deeper. Every thrust was a promise. Every whispered word was something I hadn’t known I’d been carrying, finally set free. I wanted to make her feel wanted… cherished… chosen.
This isn’t another flame, I told myself as her fingers clutched at my back. This isn’t something I burn through and leave behind. I’m staying.
“I love you,” I said against her neck, meaning every word.
She gasped, then tightened her arms around me. “I love you too.”
I let go of everything I’d been holding back. Every wall I’d kept up. Every fear that I’d never be enough for someone like her. And when she came apart underneath me, crying out my name, I followed with a groan, burying my face in her neck as we both unraveled.
Later, she curled into my chest, one hand splayed across my ribs like she was staking a claim. I held her tighter.
The next morning, I made her coffee and wrapped my arms around her on her porch while the sun streaked shades of orange and pink across the mountains. I never knew it could feel like this, like I belonged somewhere without having to earn it every day.
Rowan looked up at me, her hair a mess, wrapped in a flannel robe that swallowed her whole. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Okay.” Her voice was still rough with sleep. “Maybe this whole letting-someone-in thing has its perks.”
I smiled. “Told you so.”
She took the mug from my hand. “If you tell anyone I let you make me coffee, I’ll deny it,” she said as she took a sip.
“Of course.” I wrapped her in my arms, tugging her even closer. “You have a reputation to uphold.”
She leaned her forehead against mine, our breath warm between us. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”
“I never would,” I said. “A wise woman once told me that ‘Sometimes the ones who put up the highest walls have the most worth protecting behind them.’ She meant you, and she was right.”
EPILOGUE
DANE
The pickleball courts were finally finished. Fresh lines, new nets, everything squared away and gleaming like they were holding their breath, waiting to be used. I’d turned down a flashier build in Whitefish last week to stay and finish this—proving again that I wasn’t chasing shiny anymore. This was where I wanted to be.
Rowan stood at the edge of the court in leggings and a hoodie, her arms crossed, squinting at the paint like it personally offended her. “They’re very... bright.”
I grinned, tossing her a paddle. “So you’re saying they match your personality.”
Her eyes narrowed, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “I’m here under protest. I don’t play silly games.”
I stepped behind her and circled my arms around her waist, tugging her close. “Good thing I’m not asking you to play. I’m asking you to try something new. With me.”
She tilted her head just enough for our cheeks to brush. “You always get your way, don’t you?”
“Not always. But I fight like hell when it matters.”
She huffed, but her eyes softened. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I’m yours.”
She turned in my arms, her eyes searching mine. “Is that what this is? Fighting for something real?”
I kissed her slow and deep. “It is for me.”
She softened against me, the paddle forgotten as her fingers found the hem of my shirt. “Then take me home and show me just how real.”
