My knees go weak.
“I will,” I whisper. “I promise.”
He leans in and brushes his lips against my forehead.
“Go on then,” he murmurs. “Before I change my mind and throw you over my shoulder. Generator be damned.”
I grin. “Tempting.”
“Oh, I know it is. Drive safe, Baby.”
He kisses me.
I blink slowly when he breaks off the kiss, and I smile.
Really smile.
“I will.”
Because suddenly, it matters—where I go, how I get there.
Because now I have something real to come back to.
Now I have him.
CHAPTER 45
THATCHER
Something about watching that woman walk away from me hits me hard every damn time.
It’s not fear. Not exactly.
It’s this deep, primal thing—like my bones are wired to her, and any distance between us tugs on something I can’t explain.
Like my body just knows she’s mine, and it doesn’t like the space.
But I also know she needs her freedom.
Her independence.
I can’t hover like some damn guard dog, even if every part of me wants to.
I want to watch her every second.
Want to follow her, ride shotgun, stand between her and the rest of the world just in case anything or anyone even thinks about hurting her again.
“Come on, boss,” Mack says, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Gus is here with the shingles. We can patch the roof while Tim and Lonny install the new genny.”
I grunt my acknowledgment but don’t move.
Not yet.
Not until I see her open the truck door—the one I gave her the keys to the day she started.
The sawmill name and logo are stamped on the side, and I like knowing she’s riding in something that marks her as ours.As mine.
She’s got her leggings tucked into those willow painted boots I bought her, the ones she made that cute little squeak over when she first tried them on.
