After, as we lie tangled in the sheets, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear, I trace the tattoos on his chest, following the intricate patterns that tell the story of his life before me.
“Do you think it will always be like this?” I ask quietly. “People trying to come between us?”
He’s silent for a moment, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my bare shoulder. “Not always,” he finally says. “Noah and the Morrisons…they’re just obstacles. We’ll get past them.”
“And then?”
“And then we build a life,” he says simply. “The one we were planning before all this happened. The shelves, the porch swing, maybe a garden in the spring.”
I smile against his skin, loving the picture he’s painting. “That sounds perfect.”
“It will be,” he promises, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I’m not letting anything take that future away from us, Atlee. Nothing and no one.”
I believe him. Despite everything—the charges, Noah’s vendetta, the uncertainty of what tomorrow will bring—I believe him. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Devlin Nelson, it’s that when he sets his mind to something, not even the forces of nature can stand in his way.
And right now, his mind is set on us. On our future together. On the life we’re building in this small cabin on the edge of the Grizzly River Ranch.
As I drift toward sleep, secure in the circle of his arms, I look forward to the rest of my life with him. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. And somehow, I know that will be enough.
TWENTY-TWO
DEVLIN
I wake up with a start.For a moment, I’m disoriented, the memory of jail cells and plastic restraints too fresh in my mind. Then I feel Atlee’s warm body curled against mine, her breathing deep and even in sleep, and reality settles back into place.
I’m home. We’re safe. For now.
I lie there watching as the first light of morning filters through the curtains, casting soft shadows across Atlee’s sleeping face. She soothes the restlessness in me and quiets the constant noise in my head. Even now, with charges hanging over my head and Noah gunning for me, I find a measure of peace just watching her sleep.
But the peace doesn’t last. As the room grows lighter, my thoughts turn to the day ahead. The article about Project Watershed should be hitting the website and the regular paper today, exposing Morrison’s plan to control the water rights throughout the county. It’s a good plan, one that should shift public opinion in our favor, but it also makes us bigger targets for Noah and the Morrisons—if they dare to not let this go. I’m hoping they do, but we don’t know until we see what others in the county think about this.
That means Atlee could be an even bigger target too.
She stirs beside me, her eyes fluttering open, immediately finding mine as if she sensed I was watching her. A sleepy smile curves her lips.
“Morning,” she murmurs, her voice husky with sleep.
“Morning,” I reply, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. “Sleep okay?”
She nods, stretching like a cat, all curves and claws. “Better than I expected, considering.”
I know what she means. Yesterday was a hell of a day, the kind that should have kept us both tossing and turning. But there’s something about being together that makes even the worst days bearable.
“What time do you have to be at work?” I ask, already formulating a plan for the day.
“Nine,” she says, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. “Why?”
I sit up, the sheet pooling around my waist. “I don’t want you driving yourself today. Not with everything that’s going on.”
A small frown creases her forehead. “Devlin…”
“It’s not just being overprotective,” I cut in, though we both know that’s part of it. “I don’t trust Noah. He’s desperate, and desperate men do stupid things.”
The frown deepens. “You think he’d come after me?”
“I think he’d do anything to get to me right now,” I say honestly. “Including using you. I’d just feel better if I took you to work and picked you up after.”
She studies my face for a long moment, and I can see her weighing her independence against my concern. Finally, she nods. “Okay. But I’m not going to live in fear, Devlin. We can’t let Noah and the Morrisons dictate how we live our lives.”
