The first thing I felt was warmth.
Not the scratchy motel blanket, not the weak sunlight leaking through the curtains. Him.
Adam’s arm was draped heavily across my waist, his chest pressed against my back, his breath steady at my neck. For the first time in what felt like forever, I’d slept. Really slept.
I turned slowly, careful not to wake him. He looked younger in sleep, the lines of command and fury smoothed away. A faint scar tugged at his jaw, stubble shadowing his face, and I couldn’t stop myself from brushing my fingertips lightly over it.
His eyes cracked open, gray and sharp even half-asleep. “Staring at me, Carter?” His voice was rough, gravelly, still thick with sleep.
I smiled, my cheeks heating. “Maybe.”
He caught my hand, pressed a kiss to my palm, then rolled onto his back with a groan. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
I laughed softly. “Takes one to know one.”
For a moment, it was just us. No ridge, no clinic, no refrigerated trucks full of nightmares. Just a man and a womantangled in sheets, sharing the kind of peace we hadn’t had in years.
My ribs ached when I shifted, and I winced. Adam was instantly alert, his hand sliding over my side. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, brushing it off. “Just a bruise.”
His brow furrowed, protective and fierce. “I’ll kill anyone who put that on you.”
“Pretty sure you already did,” I teased, nudging his shoulder.
That pulled a low chuckle from him, the sound rumbling in his chest. He kissed me then, slow and unhurried, nothing like the desperation of last night. This kiss was softer. Promising. The kind that tasted like home.
When it ended, I tucked myself against him, my head on his chest. For a few blissful breaths, I let myself believe the world outside didn’t exist.
But then Boone’s voice crackled through the comm sitting on the nightstand, dry and irritated.“Rise and shine, lovebirds. We’ve got a situation.”
I groaned, burying my face against Adam. “Of course we do.”
Adam sighed, brushing a hand down my back. “Welcome to war, Carter.”
And just like that, the moment was gone, replaced by the weight of what waited beyond the door.
But I’d take it. Because whatever came next, we were facing it together.
83
Adam
Boone’s voice crackled over the comm, bone-dry as ever.“Rise and shine, lovebirds. We’ve got a situation.”
Raine groaned and buried her face against my chest, but I was already reaching for my pants. The war never waited.
“Talk,” I snapped, clipping the comm to my belt.
“Dallas news feeds are lighting up,” Boone said, voice sharper now.“Police found the wreckage on the bridge. They’re spinning it as a gang shootout. But here’s the kicker—the truck we intercepted? It’s being reported as hijacked medical supplies. No mention of the people inside.”
My gut tightened. A clean-up narrative. They were already scrubbing it.
“Thought that might get your attention,” Boone added.“But that’s not all. One of my trackers pinged—the shell company tied to that clinic just rerouted funding to another hub. San Antonio. They’re moving faster than we are.”
Raine sat up beside me, her eyes still hazy from sleep but her spine stiff. She’d heard every word.
“Send me the details,” I ordered.
