Once Vanessa is gone, I rush to Diesel's side. He stands to meet me, wrapping his arms around me despite the pain it must cause his ribs. I bury my face in his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
"It's really over?" I ask, needing to hear him say it.
"It's really over," he confirms, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "She'll be facing charges in Vancouver. With the recording and the Vancouver PD's existing case against her, she's looking at serious time."
"Good." I lift my face to his. "Now what?"
A slow smile spreads across his face, transforming his features, erasing the last traces of tension. "Now we rebuild your car. Fix up your grandfather's cabin. Make a life here." He cupsmy face in his hands, eyes intense with emotion. "Together. If that's still what you want."
In answer, I rise on tiptoes, pressing my lips to his in a kiss that says everything words cannot. Against all odds, despite a broken-down car, a criminal ex-wife, and the specter of his past, we found each other. Found love in this small mountain town where both of us, separately, came to start over.
"Yes," I whisper against his lips. "That's exactly what I want."
He kisses me again, deeper this time, full of promise for the future we're choosing together. When we finally part, both slightly breathless, he rests his forehead against mine.
"Then let's go home," he says softly. "Our story's just beginning."
The words resonate through me like a perfect note, clear and true. Our story. Whatever challenges lie ahead, whatever obstacles we might face, we'll face them together. And that makes all the difference in the world.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DIESEL
"Careful with that," I call as Sandra balances on a ladder, paintbrush in hand, attempting to reach the top corner of what will become her bedroom. "I can do the high spots when my ribs are better."
"I've got it," she insists, stretching just a bit further. A drop of pale green paint falls, landing on her cheek. "Shit."
"Told you." I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips. Three weeks since Vanessa's arrest, and I'm still not used to the sight of Sandra in the middle of her grandfather's cabin, making it her own.
Making it ours, in a way that fills my chest with warmth I'm still getting accustomed to.
My ribs are healing, though slower than I'd like. Dr. Mawry cleared me for light duty at the garage last week, which means I can supervise Marcus and handle paperwork, but no heavy lifting or complex repairs. It's driving me crazy not to be working on Sandra's Mustang, but she's been surprisingly patient.
"You look good up there," I comment, watching as she carefully climbs down the ladder. "Paint suits you."
"Yeah?" She turns, revealing speckles of pale green across her cheek, forehead, and the oversized t-shirt she's wearing over leggings. My t-shirt, I realize with a surge of possessiveness. "Is this my new look? Paint Splatter Chic?"
"Works for me." I pull her close, careful of my still-tender ribs, and brush my thumb over the drop on her cheek, smearing it further. "Everything works for me when it's on you."
Her eyes darken, and she rises on tiptoes to press her lips to mine. The kiss is gentle, mindful of my healing body, but the heat is there, simmering beneath the surface. It's been three weeks of careful touches and frustrated desire, both of us waiting until I'm healed enough for more.
"How are you feeling today?" she murmurs against my mouth, the question loaded with meaning.
"Better." I slide my hands to her waist, relishing the curve of her beneath my palms. "Much better."
"Good enough for..." She lets the question hang, but her meaning is clear.
"Let's find out." I deepen the kiss, testing my limits. There's discomfort when I pull her closer, but it's manageable, overwhelmed by the desire that's been building for weeks.
She breaks away first, breathing harder. "Bedroom. Now."
"We're already in a bedroom," I point out, glancing at the half-painted walls.
"A bedroom without a bed," she laughs. "And I'm not making our first time in weeks on a drop cloth covered in paint cans."
"So demanding." I let her take my hand, leading me through the cabin to the guest room we've been using while renovating the master. It's small but cozy, with a queen bed that's seen more cuddling than action since I got hurt.
At the doorway, I stop her, turning her to face me. "You sure about this? I don't want to rush if you're worried about hurting me."
