He offered his hand.
She stared at it like it was dangerous. Trembling, she put her hand in his.
His fingers closed around hers. He felt it everywhere. Her hand, her warmth, the faint tremor he felt through her fingertips—he’d carried those memories for years, thinking they’d faded. They hadn’t. They’d just been waiting.
He had no business feeling like she belonged to him.
But he felt it anyway.
They stepped onto the dance floor. The room faded. The music wrapped around them like something alive. Norah’s body fit against his exactly as it had when they were seventeen—only now she was all soft curves and silk he wanted to drown in.
Heaven help him.
Norah’s body eased into his like muscle memory—perfect, devastating alignment. Her silk dress brushed his legs. Her perfume hit him in the sternum. She rested her free hand on his shoulder, and every part of him went on high alert.
His own hand found her waist. He hesitated—half a second, maybe—but she didn’t pull away. So he settled his palm there, fingers splaying just slightly over the curve he’d once memorized.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured.
“It’s cold,” she lied. The barn was warm. Stuffy, even.
He let the lie stand, content to drown himself in the delicious torture of holding her in his arms.
Because suddenly it didn’t matter that they were standing in a barn full of people. Didn’t matter that he could list every exit and threat vector without thinking. Didn’t matter that he’d come here and watched her every move under the guise of protection and not...this.
The world narrowed. The music blurred into a low hum. The lights softened. Conversations around them dissolved into a distant, meaningless murmur.
If the barn had blown away in that moment, he wouldn’t have noticed. He wasn’t entirely certain he would have cared. There was only her. And with every step, he was more confident that there had always only ever been her.
“Julie looks beautiful,” she whispered after a moment, eyes fixed on his chest instead of his face. Like it hurt to look at him. Or like looking might give something away.
“Yeah,” he said. “She does.”
What he wanted to say—that Norah was the most beautiful woman in the room. That he counted the days he didn’t see her—pressed against his ribs.
She hummed in agreement, her gaze drifting to the family again. “Your mom looks happy. Proud.”
“She is,” he said quietly. “Days like this.. .she lives for them.”
Norah glanced at him then, soft but careful. “You still fit here. Even with...everything your job demands.”
Marshall let out a slow breath. “Some days I fake it better than others.”
Something flickered across her face. Empathy, maybe. Understanding. But then she pulled back just an inch, a subtle shift of shoulders, a reminder of the line between them. The one she needed. The one he had no right to blur. “We all do what we need to do for our family.”
And in that small movement, the truth settled in his chest. He couldn’t give her what she needed. He hadn’t been able to stay fifteen years ago. And the real answer—I’d cross continents if you needed me—wasn’t something he had the right to offer her anymore.
The pastor’s earlier words drifted back uninvited.Love demonstrated in sacrifice. Anchored in something greater.Marshall had spent the last decade trying to pretend those truths didn’t apply to him—that faith was for people who didn’t know how sharp the world could cut.
But holding Norah now, with her heartbeat brushing his chest and her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt like she remembered him the way he remembered her...
He shouldn’t be holding her like this. He shouldn’t want her like this. He shouldn’t be anything but professional. Nothing compromised a mission like distraction. And she was the biggest distraction he’d ever faced.
But she fit against him like she always had—like they’d never broken, never bled, never walked away for reasons that still scraped raw. She felt like home. And he’d been without one for a very, very long time.
“You should stay off Morris’s radar when we get back,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice level. “We don’t want anyone from the Syndicate looking at you more than necessary.”
She lifted her eyes. “Funny you mention that.”
