“Yeah,” the word came out like relief. “Yeah, maybe I could.”
Lightning flickered again, but the thunder was distant now, the storm moving past us towards the mountains.
“Alex?” He spoke softly in the stillness.
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
I pressed a kiss to his collarbone through his shirt. “I love you too.”
“Good,” he whispered, his arm tightening around me as thunder rumbled gently overhead. “Because I’m planning on keeping you safe for a very long time.”
Chapter 39
Insubordinate
Finn
I woke to the sound of rain drumming against the windows and Alex curled up against my back, her arms wrapped around my middle. The storm that had chased us home yesterday was still going strong—steady, soaking rain that didn’t sound like it had any intention of letting up soon. Our pillow fort was still standing—dampening the noise and light still filtering into our room.
Alex stirred against me, kissing my shoulder and shifting to nestle her chin on top.
“How’re you feeling?” she asked, voice soft with sleep.
I took inventory. My head felt clearer than it had twelve hours ago—the sharp edge of yesterday’s migraine finally gone, but there was a low throb at the base of my skull, and my body still carried the weight of exhaustion deep in its bones.
“Better.” It was true enough. “Head’s clear.”
“But?” She propped herself up on one elbow, studying my face with those sharp blue eyes as I turned onto my back.
“Just tired. Storm’s got my body acting up,” I reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nothing that won’t sort itself out.”
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Then again. Alex reached for it and handed it over. I squinted at the screen, trying to read the words—two messages from Dad, sent rapid-fire starting ten minutes ago.
Dad:Storm’s worse than we expected. Could use your help moving some equipment before some of the pastures flood.
Dad:Luke and a couple of the guys are loading the truck now. Nothing we can’t handle but would appreciate the extra hands if you’re feeling up to it.
The careful phrasing wasn’t lost on me—I could read between the lines. He wanted to make sure I was feeling up to the intense labor that came with emergencies. But everyone was already mobilizing. The least I could do was show up.
Something pulled at the back of my mind—like I needed to be careful. Like I’d missed something else in his message.
“What is it?” Alex asked, her eyes tracking over me, assessing.
“Storm’s causing problems on the property. Dad wants help moving equipment.”
She was quiet for a moment, still watching my face. “How bad are you feeling really?”
The question caught me off guard—not because she asked, but because she could tell. I’d thought I was doing a decent job of minimizing it.
“Low-grade headache. Nothing like yesterday,” I kissed her. “I can handle some ranch equipment.”
“Finn,” she leveled her gaze at me. “You were barely functional twelve hours ago. And it seemed worse than usual.”
“That was twelve hours ago,” I sat up carefully, testing how my body responded as I emerged from our nest. The movements sent a dull ache through my back and shoulder, but nothing sharp. “I’m not saying I’m ready to run a marathon, but I can help move some stuff out of the rain.”
Alex sat up as well and studied me for another long moment before nodding. “Okay. But if it gets worse—”
