By the time the bell above the door chimed again, announcing Sawyer's return, I'd finished most of the flowers on Nolan's bag. The stems climbed up the canvas like living things, green and graceful, with blooms beginning to unfurl along their length.
"In here." Marley called out before I could move to hide my work. "She's elbow-deep in thread. Give her a minute."
I heard Sawyer's heavy footsteps approaching and quickly tucked the bag into my supply bin, covering it with a neutral piece of fabric. When he appeared in the doorway, his pale eyes scanning the room before settling on me, I was innocently organizing my thread collection.
"Ready?" His voice was low, rough, but his expression softened when he looked at me — the way it always did, like seeing me eased something tight in his chest.
"Almost." I stood, brushing thread snippets from my clothes, hyper-aware of Marley's knowing smirk. "Just let me pack up."
"Take your time." He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, his earth and leather scent filling the small space. "Reid called. Said there's news about the other ranchers. Meeting tonight."
I nodded, my good mood dimming slightly at the reminder of everything happening outside these walls. But I refused to let it consume me. Not today. Not when I had gifts to finish and dreams to nurture and a future to fight for.
"I'll be back next week." I told Marley as I gathered my things, carefully tucking my supply bin into its hiding spot in her closet. "Same time?"
"I'll be here." She didn't get up from her chair, but she caught my eye and held it, something warm and maternal in her gaze."You're doing good work, Aster. All of it. The sewing and the rest."
"Thank you." The words felt inadequate for everything she'd given me — not just skills, but wisdom, perspective, a safe space to dream out loud. "For everything."
"Get out of here before you make me emotional." She waved a hand at me, turning back to her quilt, but I caught the slight tremble in her fingers. "And bring those Alphas of yours by sometime. I want to see the men who earned all this devotion."
I laughed, crossing the room to press a quick kiss to her weathered cheek before she could protest. "I will. I promise."
Sawyer was quiet as we walked through town, his hand finding mine, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. The afternoon sun was warm on my face, the streets quiet and peaceful, and for a moment I let myself pretend that everything was normal. That there was no threat looming on the horizon, no Easton plotting in the shadows.
"You smell happy." Sawyer's voice was soft, curious. "What were you two doing in there?"
"Just sewing." I squeezed his hand, keeping my voice light. "Girl stuff. Very boring." He made a sound that suggested he didn't believe me but wasn't going to push. That was one of the things I loved about him — he understood the value of secrets, the importance of having something that was just yours.
"They're for bonding." I said suddenly, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "The things I'm making. They're gifts. For all of you. For when we're ready."
He stopped walking, turning to face me, his pale eyes searching my face with an intensity that made my breath catch.
"Bonding?" His voice was rough, barely above a whisper.
"When we're ready." I repeated, reaching up to touch his face, feeling the stubble rough against my palm. "When Eastonis dealt with and we don't have to be afraid anymore. I want to bond. All of you. Forever."
Something shifted in his expression — hope and fear and love all tangled together, raw and vulnerable in a way he rarely let himself be.
"Forever." He repeated the word like it was something precious, something fragile. "Yeah. I want that too."
He kissed me then, right there on Main Street where anyone could see, his hands cupping my face, his lips soft and desperate against mine. And I kissed him back, pouring everything I felt into it — all the hope and fear and love that had been building inside me since the day I walked onto Longhorn Ranch.
When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathing hard, he pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes.
"Whatever you're making." His voice was rough, cracked with emotion. "I'll treasure it. Always."
"I know." I whispered back, my heart so full it ached. "That's why I'm making it." We walked home hand in hand, the setting sun painting the sky in shades of orange and gold — Kol's colors, I thought, and smiled. There was still danger ahead, still battles to fight and fears to face. But for now, in this moment, I let myself dream.
Of bonding. Of forever. Of giving pieces of myself to the people I loved and watching them hold those pieces close.
I wanted to give them something of myself.
And soon, I would.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
ASTER
