He let out a breathless chuckle, the sound caught somewhere between relief and disbelief.
Then she stepped forward.Slowly, deliberately.She wrapped her arms around him, fitting herself against his chest like she belonged there.“You’re already in it, dummy,” she murmured.
Dasher froze.For half a second, he just stood there, arms hovering, stunned.Then something cracked wide open inside his chest.Something tight and guarded and lonely.
He wrapped his arms around her, anchoring her to him like he was afraid she might vanish if he let go.Her warmth seeped into him, steady and sure.Just like that, the noise of the hall with the volunteers, the sounds of unpacking, and the distant car alarms and street chatter all disappeared.
There was only her.He pulled back a little, just enough to see her face.Her cheeks were flushed, her lashes damp.And when he leaned in, he didn’t kiss her like a man looking for a second chance.He kissed her like someone who’d stopped pretending he didn’t want one.
Their mouths met, soft at first.Testing.His fingers tangled in her hair, tilting her face up, deepening the kiss.She melted into him with a soft sound, one hand clutching the leather of his cut like she needed the grounding.
God, she tasted like cinnamon gum and late-night confessions.Like everything he’d missed and more than he thought he deserved.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless.Her lips were kiss-swollen, her pupils blown wide.But there was a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, and he couldn’t stop looking at her.
“You always did know how to make an entrance,” she said softly.
He laughed, pressing his forehead to hers.“You always did know how to make me stay.”
Ellie’s fingers grazed the edge of his jaw, her thumb tracing a line over the day-old stubble.“You’re not leaving, are you?”
“Not unless you tell me to,” Dasher told her.
“I’m not,” she whispered.
Another long pause stretched between them.Then, from somewhere behind them, one of the volunteers cleared their throat.“Uh, sorry to interrupt, but do you want us to start unloading these?”
Ellie flushed scarlet and stepped back, wiping quickly at her eyes.Dasher turned and gave the guy a sharp nod.“Yeah.Careful with the boxes in the back.They’re sorted by age group.”
The man blinked.“You sorted them?”
Dasher shrugged.“Figured it’d save some time,” he said.
Ellie stared at him like he’d grown a second head.“You sorted the toys?”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, ears turning red.
She bit back a smile and reached for his hand.“Too late.”
They spent the next hour unloading the truck side by side.The volunteers worked around them, glancing curiously at Dasher every now and then, but no one said anything.Maybe it was the way he stayed close to Ellie, or the way she leaned into his presence like it steadied her.
At one point, she passed him a box and their hands brushed.He caught her eye, and that heat—the thing that had been simmering since the moment he drove the truck back into town—roared back to life.
“You know,” she murmured once they were alone again, standing by the now-empty truck.“If you keep doing things like this, people are going to start thinking you’re a decent man.”
Dasher grinned.“Let ‘em.”
“Even your biker brothers?”Ellie asked with one eyebrow raised.
“They already think I’ve gone soft.”He stepped closer.“Don’t care.”
Ellie tilted her head, eyes dancing.“What do you care about then?”
He didn’t hesitate.“You.”
A quiet breath left her lips.“Careful, Dasher.Say things like that and I might fall in love with you all over again.”
His thumb traced the line of her jaw.“I’m kinda counting on it.”
