I know how that would look. Crazy. Unhinged.
But God help me, I still want to.
It’s been hours since I saw her, and my chest tightens with the need to get back.
I grunt a few quick orders to the crew, then toss my gloves in the cab and make my way to the office.
My pace picks up with every step.
Urgency coiling tighter in my gut like my body knows what it’s walking toward.
Knows who it’s about to see.
I don’t just want to see her. I need to.
Need the sound of her voice, her scent in the air, her smile—fuck, even just the sight of her hands, moving through the space like she belongs there.
Like she belongs to me.
Because she does.
She belongs.
I reach the door and swing it open—and stop.
She’s behind the desk, tears in her eyes, clutching a pair of boots to her chest like someone just handed her the moon.
Shit. I wanted to be here when she got them, but I honestly forgot.
Greyson must’ve dropped them off early.
Slipped in and out while I was distracted, the sneaky bastard.
My heart stutters at the sight of her. The boots. Her face.
And then she looks up.
Eyes wide. Glassy. Beautiful.
And she’s moving. Rushing me.
I barely have a second to open my arms before she’s in them—wrapping around me like I’m the only safe place in the world.
My arms lock tight around her, anchoring her to me.
“Hey,” I whisper, kissing her temple.
“Thank you,” she murmurs against my neck, voice thick and trembling. “Thank you so much. I-I’ll pay you back, I swear?—”
“No.” I pull back just enough to cup her cheeks, my voice low and rough. “You’ll do no such thing, Baby Girl. They’re a gift.”
“But why?” Her eyebrows draw together, lips trembling. “You didn’t even know me when you ordered them.”
Goddamn.
If she only knew.
Because you’re mine. I knew it the second you walked into my mill.
