Camden’s brows lowered, his jaw tightening. “Excuse me?”
Enya ignored her dad and jumped to her feet. She shot across the kitchen. “When—are you—is everything—how?—”
“Easy, darlin’, take a breath.” Rowan shot a look over her shoulder toward the table, then pressed a fast kiss to her lips. “We’re all good. The boys will be up in a bit.”
Camden’s jaw worked, his fingers tightening around his fork. “That’s my daughter, Salieri…”
“Daddy—”
“Camden—”
Enya and her momma both spoke at once, and both were cut off when Rowan winked at her where her daddy couldn’t see.
“What matters,” Rowan said, his voice never rising or wavering, “is that she’s happy. Safe and happy.” He kept his gaze on her as if he wanted her to read between the lines. “What she needs and wants is my top priority. Period.”
What does he mean by that?
The table went dead quiet. Enya’s gaze bounced from Rowan to her daddy, to her momma, and back to Rowan.
Her mom reached over, her fingers squeezing Camden’s hand under the table. “Rowan’s right. Our girl safe and happy trumps everything else.”
Camden’s head snapped toward Birdie-June. “You, too?”
Birdie-June’s voice was soft, but firm. “She’s getting stronger here. I see it.” She looked at Enya, her eyes shining. “She also looks at Rowan like I still look at you.” She pinned Camden with a glare. “And if youlookat him, he looks at her like you look at me.”
Camden exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face, his callouses catching on the stubble along his jaw. “Christ.” He looked at Rowan, then at Enya, and something in his expression cracked, just a little. The fight drained out of him, leaving something raw in its place. “This wasn’t in the plan.”
Enya glanced at Rowan, who nodded, and the corner of his lip curved up. She swallowed hard. “The—um—plan changed a little when I wasn’t looking. I’m not mad about it.”
“Thank fuck.”
Her dad clearly didn’t hear Rowan’s whisper because he nodded as if he was agreeing with himself. He looked from Rowan to Gael and back again, then gestured to her momma. “What about us?”
Rowan didn’t hesitate. “Door’s always open. You want to visit, you visit. You want to help with the horses, you help. You want to sit on the porch and drink bourbon and bitch about the government, we’ve got a rocking chair with your name on it.”
There was a beat of silence, then Camden huffed a laugh, “Goddamn.” He narrowed his gaze at his wife. “Did you know about this before we came here today?”
“No.” Birdie-June smiled, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “But like our daughter, I’m also not mad about it.”
“Guess we’re adopting a mercenary ranch, then.” Camden shook his head. “There better be pie or something, because a man needs something sweet as sugar when you hit him with a shock like his baby girl moving in with a man without so much as a by your leave.”
“Welcome to the family.” Rowan’s lips quirked. “And yes, there’s pie. I picked it up in town.”
Enya’s chest ached with the hope that swamped through her. It was fragile, new, and kinda trembly, like the colt’s first steps. But it was there, it was real, and when Rowan tugged her into the hall out of sight of her parents, she allowed herself the blissof losing herself in a deep, wet, curl-your-toes-hot kiss from the cowboy soldier who was coming to mean so much to her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Rowan might not have plannedon kissing Enya with her parents right around the corner in his kitchen. But there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was calling it—or would ever call it—a mistake. He’d walked into the house, still coated in the grit of the mission, the scent of gunpowder and sweat clinging to his skin despite the shower he’d taken at the airstrip. He’d expected to find the kitchen empty, maybe Gael lurking with some smartass remark about how he looked like the damn cat had dragged him in through the new fucking cat flap that had appeared in the door since he’d left. What he hadn’t expected was Enya’s parents sitting, comfy as you please around his dinner table, telling her she should go home with them.
He wasn’t ready for her to leave, damn it. Everything he was, every single fiber of his being, fucking loved that she was here on the SHR waiting for him to come home. So here he was giving her an ‘I don’t care who’s in the next room’ kiss. His hands were in her hair, her back against the wall, and she was kissing him back just as hard, her fingers digging into his shoulders like she was trying to anchor herself to him. The taste of her made his head spin. He’d straight-up missed her. It should’ve scared thehell out of him, especially as he’d all but declared his intentions of—what? He wasn’t entirely sure what intentions he’d declared.
Did he care?
Not when Enya was kissing him like she’d missed him just as much as he’d missed her, he didn’t.
He pulled back first, but only because his lungs had a stupid requirement for air. His thumb brushed her slightly swollen bottom lip, and he exhaled sharply through his nose.
“Your parents are ten feet away.”
