Heather rolled her eyes, but I caught the faintest hint of a smile. “Don’t push your luck, Angelo. I also know how to use a gun. Don’t forget that.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, and this time his grin was more genuine.
I settled back against Nick, feeling the exhaustion of the past two days finally catching up with me. My wrists still ached where the cuffs had been, and my body felt like I’d been through a war. But I was free. I was going home. To Montana, to the ranch, to the life I’d built with Nick.
It wasn’t the life I’d expected. Wasn’t the life I’d been raised for. But maybe, just maybe, it was the life I was always meant to have.
“Get some sleep,” Nick murmured against my hair. “It’s a long flight.”
I closed my eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull me. For the first time in days, I felt safe. Protected. Loved.
And as I drifted off, I realized something. My father had said I was banished, that I could never come back to New Jersey. But he was wrong about one thing.
Hell Creek wasn’t banishment. It washome.
Epilogue: Nick
One Month Later
Autumn was in the air now. I could smell the frost clinging to the grass in the morning when I left to check on the cattle. As the sun rose, I could just make out the snow-capped peaks in the distance. Each day the snow seemed to push just a little further down the mountain. It wouldn’t be long before it was here.
I watched the sun climb higher, turning the frost-dusted pasture into something that looked like it had been dipped in gold. The cold air burned in my lungs in a way that felt cleansing after everything we’d been through. A month had passed since the arraignment, since Dante had walked out of that courtroom a free man, since his father had banished him, and we were still adjusting to what that meant.
Marco had arrived the same day we got back, looking exhausted but relieved. He’d moved into the bunkhouse with the other ranch hands, though Angelo kept trying to convince him to take one of the spare rooms in the main house. My mother had taken to all three of them with the kind of maternal energyshe usually reserved for injured animals, constantly making sure they were eating enough and staying warm.
And, as far as I knew, Angelo was under the impression he and Heather were officially dating. I wasn’t completely sure if she agreed, but she was willing to let him take her out on nice dates and treat her like a queen. She pretended she didn’t like it, but I knew better. When Angelo wasn’t looking, she was smiling. I had no doubt in my mind that they would be an item by Christmas at the latest.
Marco, on the other hand, was still figuring things out. Leaving New Jersey had come as quite a shock to him. He definitely wasn’t the ranching type, but he was doing his best. With Angelo at his side, he seemed to be adjusting well. Angelo was still trying to get him on a horse, but Marco would have none of it. He said he didn’t trust anything that big and grumpy. And honestly, I couldn’t argue with that logic.
Taking one last deep breath of crisp morning air, I turned back toward the tiny house. Dante was still in bed, and I was happy to let him sleep. Paperwork didn’t need to be done at dawn anyway and we had enough help to cover chores thanks to his good management. Sleeping in now and then was a luxury we could afford now.
I pushed through the door as quietly as I could, toeing off my boots and hanging my jacket on the hook. The house was warm thanks to the pellet stove I’d had installed. It didn’t fit the decor, but we both liked the ambience. I moved through the kitchen, past the coffee pot I’d left on for Dante, and down the short hallway to our bedroom.
The sight that greeted me made my breath catch.
Dante was sprawled across our bed, the blankets tangled around his waist, one arm thrown over his head. The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting golden stripes across his bare chest. His dark hair was messy from sleep, and hisface was relaxed in a way it never was when he was awake. No tension, no worry, just peace.
I stood there for a moment, just watching him breathe. This man who’d saved entire families, who’d chosen mercy over violence again and again, who’d given up everything he’d ever known for a chance at something better. Who’d somehow, impossibly, made me love him despite our tense beginning.
My husband.
The word still felt foreign in my mouth sometimes, like a language I was learning to speak. But it was getting easier every day.
I stripped off my flannel shirt, letting it fall to the floor. My jeans followed, then my socks, until I was standing there almost naked in the morning light. The air was cool against my skin, raising goosebumps, but I knew I’d be warm soon enough.
I pulled the boxers off too, because I had plans for how I wanted to wake him up.
The mattress dipped as I climbed onto the bed, moving slowly so I wouldn’t wake him too soon. Dante shifted slightly, a soft sound escaping his throat, but his eyes stayed closed. I positioned myself over him, one knee on either side of his hips, and reached for the blankets.
I peeled them back carefully, exposing more of him. His stomach, the trail of dark hair that led down to where he was already half-hard in his sleep. My mouth went dry at the sight.
I ran my hands up his thighs, feeling the muscle beneath warm skin. His breathing changed, becoming less deep, but he still didn’t wake. I leaned down, pressing a kiss to his hip bone, then another to his lower stomach. His cock twitched, filling out more, and I smiled against his skin.
“Dante,” I murmured, my breath ghosting over him. “Wake up, baby.”
His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and confused for a moment. Then he saw me, saw where I was, and his pupils dilated.
“Nick?” His voice was rough with sleep. “What are you?—”
