She laughed softly. “You know this looks ridiculous.”
“I don’t care,” I said. “I’m claiming the space.”
Her laughter faded into something quieter, deeper.
“You didn’t let go,” she said suddenly.
I stilled. “Of what?”
“Me,” she whispered. “Not once. Even when you thought I couldn’t feel it.”
My throat tightened.
“I couldn’t,” I said. “Wouldn’t.”
She slid off the chair carefully and sat beside me on the rug, her back against the couch, my arm immediately curling around her like muscle memory.
“I’ve spent my whole life being the Sheriff’s daughter,” she said. “Being strong. Being careful. Being brave when I didn’t feel it.”
I pressed a kiss into her hair. “You were brave anyway.”
She leaned into me. “With you… I don’t feel like I have to be all the time.”
That was it.
That was the moment something in me shifted from protector to partner.
“I don’t want to just keep you safe,” I said quietly. “I want to build something with you. Something that lasts after the danger’s gone.”
She tipped her head back to look at me. “And if the danger never really goes away?”
I met her gaze without flinching. “Then we face it together.”
She studied my face for a long moment, then nodded once—decision made.
“Okay,” she said.
Just okay.
But it meant everything.
We sat like that as night settled fully around the cabin. The fire burned low. Outside, the forest whispered and the watch rotated quietly.
Somewhere far away, phones stayed dark. No messages. No movement.
Too quiet.
But for this one night, I let myself believe what I was holding was real—and worth whatever came next.
Because when men like Thomas moved again…
They wouldn’t just come for blood.
They’d come for revenge.
And Rylie?
She was mine.
