He rests his forehead against mine, voice wrecked. “I want forever with you, Megan. I want mornings where you steal my shirts and complain about my coffee. Nights where you fall asleep on my chest and I listen to your breathing until I fall asleep too. I want your stubbornness, your fire, your laugh, your tears. I want every piece of you. Good days. Bad days. All of it. I want you in my bed, in my life, in my heart. Every day. Forever.”
Tears spill over. I don’t bother wiping them away.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes.”
He kisses me again, gentle this time, reverent, like he’s sealing a vow.
We stand there, wrapped in each other, the world outside finally quiet.
The threat is over.
The story is out.
And we’re just beginning.
Epilogue
Aaron
It’s been six months since the night three masked men broke into my cabin and tried to take her from me. Since I carried her out of that warehouse, bruised and defiant and alive, clinging to me like I was the only solid thing left in her world.
Six months since I stopped pretending I could ever let her go.
The ranch looks different tonight.
The training grounds are empty. No rifles. No drills. No perimeter lights on high alert. Instead, strings of soft white bulbs are draped between the live oaks, swaying gently in the evening breeze, turning the whole spread into something out of a dream I never knew I was allowed to have. Long tables are set under the biggest oak, covered in white linen, wildflowers in mason jars, candles flickering in glass holders. The smell of barbecue and fresh-baked cornbread drifts from the pit Gray insisted on tending himself. Kids are running barefoot through the grass, laughing, chasing fireflies that are just starting to blink on as the sun sinks.
I stand on the porch of the main house in a black button-down, sleeves rolled to my elbows, Stetson low, boots polished. My hands are in my pockets to hide the fact that they’re shaking.
I’m about to marry the best thing that ever happened to me. The woman who crashed into my life like a storm, who fought me every step of the way, who made me feel things I thought I’d buried with my team years ago. The woman who’s currently inside the house, getting ready, surrounded by Mae, Laura, and Josie, laughing and probably rolling her eyes at whatever ridiculous thing Symon just said.
I can’t stop pacing.
Gray steps up beside me, hands in his pockets, watching the same view I am.
“Nervous?” he asks, voice low, amused.
I snort. “I’ve faced down worse than a wedding.”
He chuckles. “That’s what they all say. Until they see her walking toward them.”
I swallow. “Yeah.”
He claps a hand on my shoulder. “She’s good for you. You’re good for her.”
I nod. Can’t speak.
The music starts: a soft acoustic guitar, the song Megan picked. Something slow and sweet about coming home.
Everyone turns, and then she’s there.
Megan steps out from behind the house, barefoot in the grass, white dress flowing around her like water. Simple lace, off-the-shoulder, fitted at the waist, then falling loose to her ankles. No veil. Just her hair down in loose curls, wildflowers tucked into the strands—daisies and baby’s breath. No makeup beyond a touch of color on her lips. Just her. Glowing. Radiant. Smiling at me like I’m the only person in the world.
I forget how to breathe.
Josie walks in front of her, little basket in hand, scattering petals with exaggerated care, grinning so wide her cheeks are pink. She’s wearing a pale yellow sundress, barefoot, with her hair in two braids and ribbons. I see Gray smiling at her out of the corner of my eye. He loves his daughter fiercely.
Megan’s eyes find mine across the grass.
