The words crack something open.
“You care so much about me?” I whisper.
His smile is slow. Possessive. Steady. “I told you before. You’re mine, Nadia.”
I should be scared of that kind of claim. I’m not.
Because when he saysmine, he doesn’t mean ownership. He means protection. Commitment. Shelter.
He makes me feel like I’m allowed to take up space. To be bold. To breathe easy.
He makes love to me like I’m fire and rain at once. Something wild, something holy, something worth burning for.
“I’m yours,” I say. “But I’m also mine. And if you try to put me in a cage, I’ll kick it down.”
His grin grows wide and feral. “There’s my girl.”
For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me right here in front of everyone. My pulse stutters.
But instead, he leans in and presses his forehead to mine.
“Eat,” he murmurs. “Then I’m taking you on a ride. You need to see how beautiful this town is.”
Heat slides down my spine.
“A ride in a beautiful small town with my favorite biker?” I tease. “Be still my heart.”
He chuckles low and squeezes my hip before grabbing a plate and handing it to me.
I pile it high with eggs and bacon, and as I turn, Ava slides in beside me.
“You good?” she asks under her breath.
I glance at Saint, talking to Havoc and Viper in the corner. The way he glances back every few seconds. Like he’s not quite comfortable unless he can see me.
I smile. “Yeah. I think I really am.”
Ava bumps her hip into mine, smile easy. “Good. I’m glad I get to see that face more often now.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “You sound awfully sure I’m staying.”
She shrugs, like it’s already decided. “Because you are. People don’t just walk away from something that finally feels like home.”
My throat tightens. I glance across the room at Saint, then back at her.
Yeah. She's damn right.
Epilogue
Nadia
OneYearLater
There’s glitter glue on my elbow, a paper crown tucked in my purse, and a love note from a nine-year-old scrawled in pink crayon that says“Mrs. Nadia is the best teacher in the world.”
I think I won the lottery.
Lovestone Ridge is small, but it’s mine now. Mine in a way that feels sacred.
