I pushed faster, testing her as the ground passed beneath us in streaks of bluegrass and blurred shadow. She surged ahead,taking my challenge and throwing it back, fierce and untamed and leaving the old fear behind. I knew how the thrill of it seized her because it seized me, too.
We slowed when the night became a physical weight on our backs, panting and exhausted, but full and renewed. I nipped her ear, sharp enough to spark and to tease, and we shifted together. The intimate freedom left us breathless and exposed and even closer than before.
I pulled her to me, more than human. Human again and stronger for the animalistic abandon we’d just shared. “How’d that feel?” I asked against her lips, already knowing and needing to hear it from her.
Her face was flushed, chest heaving as she caught the breath that the night had stolen. She let out a laugh, the sound halfway to disbelief and more than halfway to pure exhilaration. “Unbelievable.”
Her expression grew tender, and her hands traced the length of my arms. Her damp hair fell across her face, and she was radiant, despite all of it, because of all of it.
“Better than searching the news channels, yeah?” I said, feeling her respond to the deliberate nearness.
She nodded, still in that wonder-drenched daze. “So much better.”
Her release, the joy she felt in this strange additional part of herself—everything bled through our connection, everything washed over us, and everything was enough.
She shivered against the night air, so I drew her back inside. Breathless with her and with what we’d been given.
The wild freedom still clung to our skin when we returned to the cabin, flushed and unsteady with the release and with each other. I shut the door behind us as Juliet sank into my chest, new joy and fierce love overwhelming her with unexpected relief. She grabbed the robe from the hook by the door, and I pulled on a pair of sweatpants.
Her breathing slowed and steadied against me, and I felt her fill with what I could only call contentment. It was the closest I’d seen her to relaxed since the night she showed up in Dairyville, shaking and too thin and on the edge of collapse.
“I forgot you could run like that,” she said, the sly tease in her voice softened by the genuine awe beneath it.
I tangled my fingers in her still-damp hair, letting the moment and the sensation settle over us both. “You were keeping up just fine.”
She gave me a look that was equal parts challenge and affection. It was a look I wanted to pin down and hold so I’d never forget it. The sudden courage I saw in her knocked the breath from my chest.
The memory of her helplessness was almost gone. Replaced by the reality of us, like this, now.
We moved to the small dining area, drawn by the smell of Ma’s handiwork. She’d left covered plates for us on the table. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, enough calories to rebuild the weight she’d lost from worry and worse. I pulled out her chair and took the seat beside her.
“We’ll find them,” I said, letting the assurance linger as she uncovered her plate and picked up a fork.
Juliet hesitated, reading my eyes and searching for cracks that didn’t exist. I felt her silent questions pushing against our connection. I wouldn’t keep anything from her.
“They’re out of the country?” She finally asked, careful and afraid.
“Maybe,” I admitted. She needed the truth, even when it cut.
I saw the brief flicker of despair at the news, the way her shoulders slumped and her hands fell back to her lap. But I saw other things too—things she might not even know were there. The tiny, persistent lights of hope still burned brightly beneath the rest. I watched them and marveled, half at their strength, half at her.
“I’m hoping within a week,” I said, my voice a command and a comfort. “We should know by then. Each thing we learn leads to something else.”
She nodded, her gaze brightening a touch, like it was feeding from the certainty I was pouring into her. “And you’re sure she’s…?”
“She’s safe,” I finished for her, biting back any hint of the doubt that gnawed. The reminder of Harrison’s ruthlessness chilled my spine, but I couldn’t let it infect her. “He’s not moving as fast as we are.”
It was a gamble, but it was true. She was his bait.
Juliet nodded again and then ate in quiet bites, each one a silent affirmation of trust. Of belief. She finished almost absentmindedly, leaving nothing on the plate.
I brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear as we sat together in the soft lamplight. “The guys are working nonstop,” I promised, and it hung between us like an unspoken gift. They vowed to do this for her.
When she was done, I rose and pulled her to me. The two of us moved upstairs with quiet, hurried steps.
I led her into the dim bathroom, filling the tub with hot, steaming water. It swirled in lazy curls that matched the promise of what came next. The deep clawfoot tub filled just high enough so it wouldn’t overflow, hot and welcoming and perfect.
Her body relaxed further when she saw what I’d planned, a happy sigh escaping her parted lips. I felt the sound like a wave, riding on our connection, filling the room with anticipation. She trusted me. With everything. It was the knowledge that only made me hungrier to prove I was worthy of it.
