Stephy’s hand threaded through my hair, pressing my face into her. A needy sound left her, and I couldn’t stop my smile. My tongue flicked over her clit, fingers curving up against that spot that made her whimper.
She gasped. Her body went tight, her hand fisting my hair. “Right there!”
“Come for me,” I murmured against her skin. “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”
She broke apart with a soft cry, shaking under my hands, her thighs trembling around my shoulders. I held her through it, slow strokes easing her down until she sagged against the swing, breathing hard.
Lightning flashed across her face, lighting her up like something holy.
I stood, scooped her into my arms—because there was no universe where I wasn’t getting her inside now—and she melted against me, still shaking.
“Bedroom,” she whispered against my throat.
“Yeah,” I growled, carrying her through the door, the storm raging behind us. “Not anywhere near done with you.”
We moved inside as the sky finally opened—rain slamming against the roof, wind rattling the windows, the world turning wild and electric. I closed the door behind us, the sound of the storm muffling into a steady roar as I backed her into the living room, her hands already sliding under my shirt.
“Welcome home, sweetheart,” I breathed against her mouth.
She kissed me like she’d been missing breath for weeks and finally found it again. Like coming home didn’t just mean a place—it meant a person.
Me. Her person. Just like she was mine.
The storm raged outside while we made our way to the bedroom, shedding clothes and weeks of fear, rediscovering each other in touches and whispers and promises spoken against skin.
And when I finally laid her back on our bed—her home, our home—I knew with bone-deep certainty: The wandering was over. The waiting was done.
She was home. And I was never letting her go again.
Epilogue
Maggie
A few months later
The Blackwood Fall Rodeo & Hospital Fundraiser was in full swing, and from my spot balanced on the top rail of the arena fence—my throne, thank you very much—I could see my entire life unfolding in dust and sunlight.
The air smelled like trampled dirt, leather, grilled brisket, and funnel cake. A scent I’d dubbedthe Copper Creek perfume.Kids sprinted in every direction, high on cotton candy. Old ranchers sat in a row of folding chairs, boots crossed, arms folded, issuing running commentary like they were judging Olympic finals. Volunteers hustled around silent auction tables—handmade quilts, cattle feed vouchers, a weekend stay at Oak Hollow Ranch—all raising money for Copper Creek Hospital.
It took months of planning to pull this thing off. Dad wrangled sponsors and livestock. Momma cooked enough food to feed a battalion. Clay and Hunter handled arena setup.Wyatt ran safety. Liam handled law enforcement and emergency demonstrations. Soph, of course, made sure our first aid tent was fully stocked and ready for anything. Even Luke was in town from Dallas, enjoying it all.
And me? I ran the whole damn operation like a battlefield commander.
My family was scattered around the arena like puzzle pieces that had finally clicked into place.
Wyatt stood beside Ivy near the warm-up ring, adjusting her stirrups for the exhibition drill. She wasn’t a rodeo girl—not yet—but she loved the horses, and my brother loved watching her love anything. They weren’t married, not officially, but the way he looked at her? Yeah. It was only a matter of time. And if he didn’t propose soon, I’d probably do it for him just to end the suspense.
A little farther down the rail, Liam and Steph were in their own little orbit—so wrapped up in each other they practically glowed. Four months home, and Steph had turned into sunlight again. No haunted shadows, no fear behind her eyes. Writing music, smiling more, helping around the ranch. And Liam? That man walked like he’d finally found a reason to breathe.
Clay was in the announcer’s booth with a microphone, charming the county with that loud-mouthed swagger that made him beloved and impossible. Hunter was in the ring, showing a couple of kids how to loop a rope without taking an eye out.
My family. My brothers. Home. Safe. Settled.
And then there was…me.
I shifted on the rail, boots scraping the wood, trying not to roll my eyes at my own damn feelings. I wasn’t jealous.God no.I loved seeing them find their people. I’d fought like hell to keep us all alive through hard times and heartbreak—of course, I wanted them whole.
But watching them find that…lightning strike? That once-in-a-life connection?
