“I don’t know. Cade has an ego, and I could easily see him being furious that Lilia left him, but he’s not stupid. It’s reckless to kidnap a baby and shoot at two members of law enforcement. It brings more attention to his criminal activities, which is the last thing he seems to want. If he’s after her, it’s not just about control or being scorned. It’s bigger than that.”
Her reasoning was sound, but if there was something more to this case, they hadn’t found any evidence of it yet. “Liam is working on tracking down where Lilia was living at the time she gave birth to Grace. Let’s see what he comes up with and go from there. In the meantime, I think you’re right. We should look to other people within the Iron Serpents who might use this opportunity to challenge Cade.” Dawson stood and extended a hand to help Peyton up. “For now, let’s go back to the house. I suddenly have a hankering for peach cobbler.”
Peyton’s hazel eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oooo, too bad. It’s all gone.”
He shot her a stern look. “Don’t joke about peach cobbler.”
“Who’s joking?” She climbed into the old work truck so they could drive it back to the carport near the house. “We all had seconds. It was fantastic. You really missed out.”
His hand shot out and tickled her. “Tell the truth!”
She shrieked with laughter and twisted away, but he had her cornered in the truck. She grabbed his hand in desperation, trying to catch her breath. “You win, you win! We hid some peach cobbler behind the leftover roast beef so your dad wouldn’t find it.”
“We?”
“Your mom and I.” She grinned. “I never knew how sneaky Ellen could be. She had me distract him with the baby while she hid the dessert. It worked like a charm though.”
“Peach cobbler is his favorite too. He’ll eat the whole tin if Mom let him.” Dawson fired up the truck, and they bounced over the field to the house. The night had gone clear and cold, every star sharp overhead, but it was the warm lights glowing in the living room that held his attention. Home. He never tired of the sight. And somehow, it meant more to have Peyton in the truck beside him. Like a piece of his life that was missing had suddenly been snapped into place.
He circled the carport and pulled in. Peyton hopped out before he could open her door, meeting him at the back of the truck. He grabbed her hand, holding her in place before she could head toward the house. “Wait.”
“What is it?”
The moonlight painted her face with an ethereal glow. The soft curve of her brow, the bow of her lip. Dawson didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling. Only that he wanted one or two more stolen moments with her before entering the house. He wanted to hold on to this feeling between them.
A strand of hay was caught in her hair. Dawson stepped closer and detangled it.
Peyton’s stilled. Her gaze searched his before landing on his mouth. There were a thousand reasons why this was a bad idea. The case, the danger, the five years of hurt between them. Butstanding here in the moonlight, with her looking at him like that, none of those reasons seemed to matter.
His hands found her face, tilting it up toward his. Her skin was cool from the night air, but silky soft. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
He lowered his mouth to hers.
The kiss was soft at first. A brush of his lips against hers. Tentative. Tender. But then her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and the dam broke. Every ounce of longing he’d tried to bury since she burst back into his life broke free. He kissed her like he'd been starving for her. Because he had been. Every day. Every night. For five long years.
She was everything he’d lost, but never stopped wanting.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard. Peyton’s hands slid down his neck to rest on his chest, but she didn’t move out of the circle of his embrace.
“Dawson…” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“I know.” He didn't know what came next. Didn’t know if their relationship could be repaired. But right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. “That was…unwise.”
“I’m not sorry though.”
“Neither am I.” He took her hand and started for the house. Then stopped mid-step halfway across the front lawn, as he finally registered the cold. “Hold on. I left my jacket in the truck.”
Dawson jogged back to the vehicle and grabbed his coat. The hinges creaked as he slammed the door shut again. He patted the jacket pockets, searching for his cell phone. He was certain it?—
“Dawson!” Peyton raced toward him, a look of terror on her face. Half a second later, her shoulder plowed into his midsection, taking him down hard. His body hit the unyieldingground, and the wind was knocked from him as she landed in a heap on top of him.
The crack of rifle fire split the night.
Bullets punched through the truck's rear panel, right where Dawson had been standing.
THIRTEEN
