"Like a baby." I study his face in the morning light. Stubble darker than usual, hair mussed from my fingers, but those eyes warm and trusting in a way that makes my heart stutter.
Before he can respond, Colt's rough voice cuts through our quiet moment. "If you two are done being disgustingly sweet, some of us are trying to sleep here."
I laugh, the sound bright and carefree in Gabriel's rustic bedroom. "Good morning to you too, grumpy."
"I ain't grumpy," he protests, though his green eyes are still closed and there's a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. "I'mwhat you call thoroughly satisfied. There's a difference, Shortie."
"Mmm." Beau's voice is a low rumble that vibrates through my bones. He opens one storm-gray eye to look at me, and the heat there makes me remember exactly why every muscle in my body feels deliciously used. "Very satisfied, Sunshine."
These men, these beautiful, complicated men, have marked me as theirs in every way possible. And I've never felt safer.
"Good morning to you too." I reach over Gabriel to trace the strong line of Beau's jaw, marveling at the slight roughness of his morning stubble. "All of you."
We lie there for long, stolen minutes, trading lazy kisses and quiet murmurs. Gabriel's fingers map the curve of my spine. Colt's thumb draws circles on my hip bone. Beau presses soft kisses to whatever skin he can reach. It's intimate and perfect and so fragile I'm afraid to breathe too hard.
Until Gabriel's stomach growls loudly enough to make us all laugh.
"Breakfast," Beau declares, sitting up and stretching like a big cat. Sunlight catches the lean muscles of his torso, and I have to bite my lip to keep from groaning. "I'll cook."
"You sure?" Gabriel asks, already reaching for his jeans. "This is my house."
Beau just shrugs, but there's something soft in his expression as he looks at me. "Want to take care of our girl."
Our girl.The words should probably bother me. This casual claim of ownership. Instead, they make me feel cherished in a way I've never experienced. Protected. Wanted. Home.
"Yourgirl likes that idea," I murmur, earning three very different but equally satisfied smiles.
Twenty minutes later, we're gathered around Gabriel's kitchen table, a massive slab of reclaimed barn wood that's probably older than all of us combined. The morning light streams through windows that frame the rolling Montana hills beyond, painting everything in gold and making this moment feel like something out of a dream.
Beau moves around Gabriel's kitchen like he was born to it, flipping perfect golden pancakes on the cast-iron griddle while bacon sizzles in another pan. He's shirtless, wearing only jeans that hang low on his hips, and I have to force myself to look away before I completely lose my train of thought.
"Coffee's ready," Colt announces, setting a steaming mug in front of me. His hair is still mussed from sleep, stubble making him look rougher around the edges. "Made it strong enough to wake the dead."
"Just how I like it." I inhale the rich aroma, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic.
Gabriel sits beside me, freshly showered and dressed in his uniform shirt, though he hasn't buttoned it yet. The sight of his bare chest and the dog tags resting against his skin makes my mouth go dry.
"Eat up, Sunshine." Beau slides a plate of perfect pancakes in front of me, his fingers brushing mine in a touch that sends electricity racing up my arm. "You need your strength."
The low and meaningful way he says it, makes me blush despite everything we did last night. Colt catches the exchange and grins like a wolf.
"Damn right she does," he agrees, stealing a piece of bacon from my plate with the audacity of a man who knows he can get away with anything. "Especially if tonight's anything like last night."
"Colt," Gabriel warns, but there's no real heat in it. If anything, he looks pleased.
I watch them move around each other with ease. Beau passing Gabriel the syrup without being asked, Colt automatically refilling everyone's coffee, Gabriel setting out napkins with military precision. These small intimacies speak of something deeper than friendship. They speak of family.
Myfamily.
We eat in comfortable conversation, plans for the day taking shape around bites of pancakes and sips of coffee. Gabriel has paperwork waiting at the sheriff's station. Coltneeds to check on a mare with colic out at the Morrison ranch. Beau has feed deliveries coming and ranch hands to coordinate. I’m going to enjoy a well earned day off.
Normal things. Everyday responsibilities that feel extraordinary because I'm part of them now. Part of their lives in a way I never imagined possible.
If only they knew who they were really sharing their lives with.
One by one, duty calls them away from our perfect morning bubble.
Gabriel is first, buckling on his gun belt with practiced efficiency while I watch from the kitchen doorway. In uniform, he's devastating, all broad shoulders and quiet authority that makes my pulse skip.
