Jesse’s expression turns serious. “Yeah, he’s waiting for us. Says he found something we all need to see.”
My gut clenches. Whatever Carson discovered, I have a feeling our lives are about to get a lot more complicated. And with Atlee now firmly in the picture, the stakes have never been higher.
“Let’s go hear what he’s got,” I say, following Jesse toward the barn where our future, and possibly our freedom, hangs in the balance.
THIRTEEN
ATLEE
Lunch with Devlin was fun.I didn’t expect him to show up and treat me to it, but when I saw Noah walk into the diner, I knew there was a reason for us to be there, especially after what he said to me the night at the bar.
Payton comes over and gives me a smile. “You and Devlin seem to be getting along well.”
I’m not sure if I’m comfortable discussing my relationship with Devlin with other people, but I feel the need to sing his praises. “We are. I haven’t been back to my apartment since he came and saved me. Maybe I should?” I pull my thumbnail in between my teeth as I say the words.
“Why do you think you should? If the two of you are happy, then what does it matter?” Payton lifts her shoulders up. “If I had someone as hot as him in my home, in my bed, and looking at me the way he looks at you, I wouldn’t be looking for a reason to get rid of him, Atlee. If you’re happy, fuck anyone who questions it.”
As she says the words, I spot Noah’s patrol car slow rolling by the pharmacy. Anxiousness creeps up in my stomach, but I try to push it away. Shaking my head, I paste a smile on my face andglance over at Payton. “You’re right. We’re good. Fuck anyone who doesn’t understand it.”
Payton squeezes my shoulder before heading back to her station. I try to focus on filling prescriptions for the rest of my shift, but my mind keeps wandering back to Noah’s warning and the tension between him and Devlin. It has to be more than Devlin stealing his girlfriend in high school. I know it’s more than that. I’m not stupid, but at the same time, I don’t want to look too closely.
But every time doubt creeps in, I push it away. I know Devlin. At least, I know the man he is with me—protective, gentle when it matters, rough when I want it. He makes me feel safe in a way I’ve never experienced before. Whatever Noah thinks he knows, he doesn’t know that part of Devlin.
The rest of the afternoon drags by, with customers coming and going in a steady stream. I’m grateful for the distraction, for the routine of measuring medications, answering questions, and offering advice. It’s familiar territory, something I can control when so much else feels uncertain.
By the time five o’clock rolls around, I’m more than ready to leave. The sky outside has turned a deep purple, the sun already setting behind the mountains. I grab my coat from the back room, wrapping it tightly around myself as I step outside.
The cold hits me immediately, a sharp contrast to the heated interior of the store. Winter is coming early this year. I can feel it in the bite of the wind and see it in the heavy clouds gathering on the horizon. The first real snow isn’t far off.
I hurry to my SUV, the one Devlin bought me when I told him that I was walking back and forth to work. It’s nothing fancy, just a used model with decent mileage, but it’s the most expensive gift anyone’s ever given me. I still feel a flutter of something warm and complicated whenever I slide behind the wheel. Inmy childhood, gifts were used to manipulate, and I pray with everything I have that’s not why Devlin did this for me.
The engine starts with a satisfying rumble, and I crank the heat up to full blast, holding my hands in front of the vents while I wait for it to warm up. The thought of driving these winding mountain roads in snow sends a chill down my spine that has nothing to do with the temperature.
It’s going to be a bitch getting to and from Devlin’s place when winter really sets in.
The thought stops me short. I’ve been automatically thinking about staying with Devlin through the winter and not going back to my apartment at all. When did that happen? When did I start planning a future with this man without even discussing it with him?
We’ve never said “I love you” to each other. We’ve never even had a conversation about what we are to each other beyond our day-to-day life right now. Yet here I am, mentally rearranging my entire life as if it’s a foregone conclusion that we’re in this for the long haul.
The crazy thing is, it feels right. I’ve only had a couple of other boyfriends, but all of them made me feel like I did with my family growing up. Like I didn’t belong. Like I was trying to force my round body into a square peg, and I could never be me. With Devlin, it’s different. Despite how quickly it’s all happened, despite the trauma that brought us together, being with him feels like the most natural thing in the world.
I put the car in drive and pull out of the parking lot, my mind still turning over these realizations as I head toward the ranch. The road stretches out before me, winding up into the hills where Devlin’s cabin waits—my port in the storm of my emotions. He and I really need to have a conversation about where all of this is going. I can’t be making plans when he may not even be thinking the same way I am.
About four miles from the turnoff to his place, I notice headlights in my rearview mirror. They’ve been behind me for a while, keeping a steady distance. Nothing unusual about that. There are only so many roads out this way, but something about it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I slow down a little, expecting the car to pass, but it slows too, maintaining the exact same distance. My pulse quickens. I’m being paranoid, I tell myself. The robbery has made me jumpy, seeing threats where there are none. I should probably be on some sort of anti-anxiety medication at this point. I’m seeing shit where there is none.
Just as I’m about to speed up again, blue and red lights flash in my mirror, accompanied by a short burst from a siren. My stomach drops as I signal and pull over to the side of the road, gravel crunching under my tires.
Deputy Noah Sanchez. Because of course it’s him.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart as I watch him approach in the side mirror. He takes his time, touching the back near the trunk, making a show of checking out my vehicle, shining his flashlight around the exterior before finally coming to my window.
I roll it down, letting in a blast of cold air. “Deputy,” I greet him, aiming for polite but falling somewhere around wary.
“Miss Walsh,” he says, his face impassive in the harsh beam of his flashlight. “License and registration, please.”
I fumble in my purse for my wallet, then reach across to the glove compartment for the registration, hoping like fuck it’s there. I never asked Devlin. “Is there a problem?” I ask, breathing easier when I find the registration, and then hand over the documents.
