He hadn’t looked away. “Then maybe we’ve both got some learning to do.”
The truth of it had hit him like a stone tossed into deep water, rippling outward, impossible to ignore. They had kissed before—brief, accidental brushes of mouths born of circumstance—but nothing that carried weight. Not until now.
For the first time in a long while, she had reached out, lightly touching his arm. He remembered the way her fingers trembled against his sleeve, how the touch seared straight through him. He’d looked at her, and the world had narrowed. She leaned in, hesitation giving way to want, and he met her halfway.
Their lips met in a tentative brush, a promise both gentle and electric. As the kiss deepened, emotion surged—exhilarating and terrifying. Burke’s hands had found her waist, pulling her closer, and for the first time in his life he felt something dangerous and undeniable—hope. Hope, and a fierce need to keep her safe.
When they finally broke apart, foreheads resting together, he was left shaken in a way that no fight, no case, no loss had ever done. And when her eyes lifted to his, he knew. He was falling for her. And God help him, he didn’t want to stop.
The memory lingered, warm and unsettling, stirring something deep in his chest. He blinked, the present sliding back into focus, the scent of steak seasoning grounding him.
Burke was seasoning the steaks when he heard the familiar purr of Darcy’s car pulling into the driveway. He glanced toward the window, and the setting sun caught her hair, gilding it in warm gold. She stepped out of the car—casual yet stunning in her cream sweater and jeans—and when she knocked, he called out warmly, “Well, hello there, gorgeous.”
He leaned in, lips brushing her cheek. “You look beautiful tonight.”
A blush touched her cheeks. “Something smells amazing.”
With a grin, he gestured toward the kitchen. “I might not be a master chef, but I can handle a couple of steaks on the grill. How does that sound?”
“Wonderful.”
He took her hand and led her onto the covered deck. A river-rock fireplace roared to life, casting a flickering glow over the outdoor sofa. A bottle of wine and two glasses waited on the low table. She shivered, and he said, “Come by the fire. I’ll pour us some wine before I start the grill.”
She took the glass he handed her, then caught his wrist before he could stand. “Sit with me for a minute first.”
The way she looked at him left no room for refusal. He dropped down beside her, arm sliding around her shoulders.
“Cheers,” he said softly, clinking her glass. “To a beautiful evening… with a beautiful woman.”
They watched the last sliver of sun slip behind the trees, the autumn air cool and crisp around them. When he set his glass down, he tipped her chin toward him. His first kiss was gentle, testing, but when she parted her lips, the restraint of the last eight weeks broke like dry tinder under a flame. Her fingers curled into his shirt, answering his need with her own.
Without a word, he rose, took her hand, and led her inside.
Upstairs, firelight from the stone hearth bathed the room in a golden glow. Honey-toned logs lined the walls, their grain catching the flicker. A quilt of deep reds and greens lay across the bed beneath tall windows spilling pale moonlight.
He faced her, eyes searching hers. “Is this okay?”
She bit her lip, then nodded. “Yes.”
The kiss—slow at first, then urgent—unraveled all the patience of the past two months. His hands traced the curve of her back, drawing her until their bodies pressed close—until she could feel the steady thrum of his heart echoing the wild beat of her own. Her breath hitched when his thumb brushed a lineunder the hem of her sweater, heat blooming in every place he touched. Her fingers threaded into his hair, tugging softly, the need between them sparking hotter with every touch. When his mouth grazed along her jaw and dipped to the hollow beneath her ear, she shivered—his whisper a soft promise against her skin.
He steadied her face in his hands, holding her just so, watching her. He saw the moment she let herself soften against him—felt the shift as her arms tightened, as she let herself be held. It was as if some quiet battle inside her had ended, and she’d decided, finally, to trust him with all of it. The way she clung to him—something in it went beyond passion. It broke him open, filled him with a fierce hope.
Their bodies moved together as if finding a forgotten language, each kiss coaxing another, deeper, more desperate, until restraint gave way and she gasped his name against his skin. Burke slid his hands beneath her sweater, fingertips gliding up her spine, and she arched into him, her breath shivering as he pressed his lips along her jaw, down her neck. She pulled him closer, wanting more, her fingers tugging at his shirt, needing to feel every inch of him—solid, warm, real.
They moved together in a feverish, tender dance, every barrier falling away in the hush of golden firelight, finding in each other something that felt both inevitable and new. As layers fell away, Burke pulled back just long enough to look at her, his voice rough and reverent. “You’re beautiful.” The words landed like an anchor, grounding her, and for once she didn’t look away or hide.
“Don’t let go,” she whispered, not even realizing the words had escaped.
He answered not with a promise but with a kiss—deeper, more certain—his hands finding every place that hurt, every place that needed soothing.
I need you.The words slipped through her like a prayer.Don’t let this end.
In his arms, she felt it—the slow, certain truth that she was already his, and he was hers, if only for this night. As their breathing slowed and the hush settled around them, she lay on his chest, felt his heart finally steady, and realized she was home.
It scared him, how much he needed her—and how much he wanted to be needed in return.
He pressed his lips to her hair, and neither of them said another word. There was nothing left to say, and everything left to feel.
