“Hey,” he said. “Thanks for letting me stay. For not making me feel like the third wheel in your domestic little cryptid love nest.”
Beau snorted. “Youwerethe third wheel. But like…a really fun third wheel. One of those little light-up ones that makes the whole ride cooler.”
I didn’t say anything right away. I just looked at him—this man who’d been with me through everything, who’d loved me when I didn’t know how to love myself, who’d dragged me out of more emotional ditches than I could count. Who flew halfway across the country to make sure I was still breathing and hadn’t joined a cult.
Still my best friend.
Still my co-host.
But even so…I was going to miss the hell out of him until he finally figured out he belonged here too.
“You were never the third wheel,” I said. “You were part of the ride.”
Shane blinked fast, mouth twitching like he didn’t know whether to grin or cry again. Then he just nodded and ducked into the car before either of us said something else embarrassing.
The engine sputtered, then kicked to life. Milo gave one short bark, and Shane stuck his hand out the window, fingers fluttering a wave. He pulled out of the driveway slow, tires crunching over gravel, dust curling behind him.
Beau and I stood there until the car disappeared aroundthe bend. Only then did he lean down and kiss the top of my head.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I just…needed that to be sad for a minute.”
Beau’s arm slid tighter around my waist. “Sad’s fine. You loved him. Still do. That don’t go away just ‘cause you’ve got me.”
I looked up at him, eyes glassy. “Idohave you.”
“Damn right you do.”
He kissed me again, and this time I let it linger.
The wind picked up, a soft hush through the trees. Milo nosed at the door like he was ready for breakfast, and I realized—I was too. Ready for all of it. The quiet. The coffee. The new stretch of life ahead.
“Come on,” Beau said, tugging me toward the house. “Let’s get you fed before you start weepin’ into the eggs.”
“You say that like it hasn’t happened before.”
He grinned. “Yeah, but last time was ‘cause of theghost possum dream,and I’m tryin’ to beat your track record.”
We stepped inside, Milo padding after us. And I thought, maybe, I didn’t need to outrun anything anymore. Not death. Not grief. Not love. Maybe this town had caught me for a reason.
Maybe it was time to stay caught.
CHAPTER 28
Beau
There’sthis thing about being in love that people don’t really tell you about—maybe because it’s a bit hard to explain.
It’s…the comfort. The tedium. The period after the initial thrill, after the adrenaline’s worn off, after you’ve lost that desperate, unstoppable urge to fuck her senseless.
It’s watching her move across a room and knowing she’s yours.
It’s catching her eye and knowing you’re hers.
And it’s still wanting her.
Not like before—not the urgent, teeth-clashing, clothes-half-off kind of wanting. But the deeper kind. The kind that sits behind your ribs and burns slow. The kind that creeps in when she laughs under her breath at something you said, or when she stretches in the morning, t-shirt riding up to show just the barest glimpse of skin.
