I give her no reprieve. I drive into her harder, relentless, chasing the fire she’s lit inside me. Her thighs clamp tight around my waist and the feel of her unraveling beneath me splits me wide open.
“Fuck,” I choke out, burying myself to the hilt one final time. I come with a ragged curse, spilling deep and hard, everything I have pouring into her. My body locks rigid, jaw clenched against the damp curve of her neck as the world flares white-hot and still.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, her lips brushing soft kisses along my throat while we both breathe ragged like we just outran the law.
When the spinning finally slows, I stay buried inside her, chest heaving against hers. I trail a lazy hand down her thigh, stroking the sensitive spot behind her knee. Her skin is slick with sweat, glowing in the firelight, and she’s never looked more beautiful—bare, breathless, utterly spent, and still full of me. The room hangs heavy with the raw scent of us.
I press my forehead to hers. “I could live right here between these thighs, little lamb…fillin’ you up till it takes.”
She trembles at that, fingers curling against my back with a gentle laugh. “Do you expect us to run with a baby strapped to my chest?”
I don’t answer straight off. Just breathe her in, cheek restin’ against her temple, hand idlin’ at her waist.
“I ain’t never expected nothin’ but trouble,” I say finally. “And I damn sure never thought I’d be so lucky to have a woman like you. But that don’t stop me from wantin’. From seein’ it clear in my head: you in a warm cabin, belly full, hair comin’ loose from the heat. Me out mendin’ fence or tendin’ to the stock. Maybe a boy trailin’ me, maybe a girl sittin’ on your lap listenin’ to stories.”
She’s quiet a long while, then she pulls back, the pads of her fingers brushing sweat from my temple. “Then why do you keep riding toward death?” she asks. “Why keep chasing a fight, Kodiak, when you just described peace?”
Because it’s all I’ve ever known. Because every time I’ve hoped, I’ve regretted it.
But I don’t say all that.
Instead, I kiss her forehead.
Her hand slides to my cheek, thumb stroking lazy. “If we’re going to run, I need to know it will not be forever. I need to believe there’s an end to it. A cabin. A fence. A child.”
“Wakin’ up with your legs ’round me and the sound of chickens out the window. Hell yeah, that’s what I want. I just don’t know how to get us there.”
She leans in, presses her lips to mine. “We’ll find a way,” she says. “But not if you go off getting yourself killed chasing vengeance.”
I blow out a breath. “I’m still gonna kill Virgil,” I mutter into her hair. I ease my weight off her, careful not to jar her hip, and cradle her close as I lie us down side by side. My hand finds the back of her head, fingers sifting through damp hair. She presses her face into my neck like she needs to hide there a minute.
“You can’t kill everyone, Kodiak.”
“I know. Let’s not worry about that right now,” I say, pulling her closer. “You feel so good wrapped around me. Been thinkin’ about this since Galveston.”
She hums low, content but worn through, like her bones melted out of her.
“Ain’t lettin’ you go again,” I whisper into her hair. “You know that, right?”
“You’d better not.”
I drag my fingers along her spine, feeling the sweat start to cool on both our skin. We lie there a long while, tangled up in each other, just breathing. Letting the fire crackle down and the night stretch quiet.
“Sleep,” I whisper. “I’ll keep watch.”
Chapter 42
ALICE
The notice we hung at the gate sways in the wind, the ink bleeding where the rain had touched it:
INFLUENZA OUTBREAK — CLOSED TO TRAVELERS TEMPORARILY
It would keep the curious away. Illness always did.
I peek through the upstairs window. Two riders turn into the lane. Virgil rides in front, posture straight as ever, his coat immaculate despite the muddy road. Behind him comes a thinner man, a satchel balanced on his knee.
My pulse quickens. Why had I assumed he’d come alone?
