“Don’t get lost in those thoughts now,” I murmur, brushing my thumb along her jaw.
Her lips part.“That was—I mean, what does it mean, Sawyer?What we just did?”
I tip my head, letting my gaze travel from the top of her tousled hair all the way down to the toes of her boots.
Everything about her is wild and real and standing right in front of me, and it hits me like a freight train.
“What we just did,” I say quietly, “means you’re mine, Lil Bit.You got a problem with that?”
Her mouth curves into a grin, breathless and shy at once.
“No.I don’t have a problem with that.”She hesitates, then adds, “But Kristie’s leaving, and I?—”
“You’re staying right here.”My fingers tighten at her waist just enough to make the point.“With me.Where you belong.”
“Am I?”she asks, biting her lower lip, eyes searching mine like she’s not sure if she should believe me.
I nod, slow and sure.“Yeah.You are.”
Her breath catches at that, and for the first time since she showed up on my ranch, I see the flicker of something new in her eyes—trust, maybe.Or the beginning of it.
And for a man like me, that’s a whole lot more dangerous than any rival rancher or biker gang could ever be.
Chapter 12-Bit
He leaves me standing in the doorway of the shed, still trying to catch my breath and make sense of the storm that just rolled through my life.
Mine.
The word keeps echoing in my head.
He said it like a vow, like he’d carved it into the air between us.
And the scary part?It doesn’t sound like a threat.It sounds like safety.
I lean back against the wall, tug my shirt straight, and stare out the window at the ranch.
The sun’s higher now, shining on the fields, on the barn, on everything that somehow feels more real than anything I left behind.
Am I really thinking about staying?
Apparently, yes—because when I picture leaving, my chest aches like I’d be cutting something out of myself.
By mid-afternoon, the air hums with the familiar rumble of engines.
Destiny’s Enforcers MC is packing up, the convoy lined along the drive.
Rooster’s standing by his bike, helmet under his arm, pretending he isn’t watching Kristie pace like she’s debating running or staying.
I hover beside her, twisting my fingers together.
I want to ask her if she’s sure.But who am I to judge?
She glances at me, eyes bright and uncertain.We don’t need words.Our bond is just that strong.
Instead we hughard, but we keep it brief.
I smile and nod, small and honest.She laughs once, shaky but real, and squeezes my hand.
