"You okay?" I ask, suddenly needing to know that we didn't push too hard, too fast.
Her smile is pure sin and satisfaction. "More than okay."
I grin, the expression feeling easier than it has in years, like something fundamental just shifted back into place.
"Good. Because if you think that was surrender, baby, you're dead wrong." I lean down to kiss her neck, tasting salt and satisfaction and promises. "We're just getting started."
And for the first time in two years, when I look at Beau over Lucy's shoulder, I see my best friend looking back.
25
Beau
Dawn creeps through my bedroom windows like a cautious messenger, painting everything in shades of gray and gold that remind me why I chose this room, this view, this life.
I've been awake for the better part of an hour, afraid to move, afraid to disturb the impossible perfection of this moment that feels too fragile to be real.
Lucy sleeps between Colt and me, her naked body curved against my side like she was made to fit there, like some divine architect designed her specifically for this space between my ribs and my heart.
Her quiet sighs stir something fierce and protective in me, something that wants to build walls around this moment and keep the world from ever touching it.
My fingers trace lazy patterns across her shoulder blade, following the delicate line of her spine, memorizing the silkof her skin because nothing this perfect has ever lasted in my life.
Everything good gets taken away eventually.
After yesterday's encounter in the barn, we'd somehow made it back to the main house in a tangle of hands and heated kisses, stumbling like drunks on something stronger than whiskey.
Gabriel had texted saying he needed to stay overnight at the precinct, coordinating with state police about Roy Cutter, asking us to keep Lucy safe. The irony wasn't lost on any of us.
We'd kept her safe, all right. Kept her thoroughly occupied too.
We'd barely crossed the threshold before we were at each other again, desperate and hungry like we hadn't just claimed her completely in the hay.
Hours had passed in a blur of tangled limbs and gasped names, punctuated only by necessary trips to the kitchen for water and whatever food we could manage one-handed.
None of us had wanted to break contact, afraid that letting go might shatter whatever fragile magic we'd stumbled into.
Now, in the quiet aftermath, doubt creeps in like morningfrost.
My thumb traces the curve of Lucy's hip, and she shifts slightly in her sleep, pressing closer to my warmth with unconscious trust. The simple gesture nearly undoes me.
Beside her, Colt sleeps hard, one arm thrown possessively over her waist even in unconsciousness. His face is relaxed in a way I haven't seen in two years, the lines of pain and anger smoothed away by exhaustion and satisfaction.
Yesterday didn't just reconnect me with Lucy. It reconnected me with the man who used to be my brother in everything but blood.
But for how long?
The questions spiral through my mind like vultures circling carrion. What happens when Lucy moves on? Because she will, eventually. Beautiful, vibrant women like her don't stay in places like this, with men like us. They spread their wings and fly toward bigger, brighter things.
And what about the secrets still lying between us like unexploded ordnance? The truth about Sophia that I've kept locked away for two years, the reason I destroyed the best friendship I ever had. How long before that poison starts seeping through the cracks again, contaminating everything we've built?
My finger finds small scars on Lucy's ribs, thin white lines that speak of old pain and survival.
Everyone has scars.
Everyone has secrets.
But some secrets are too heavy to carry alone, and some are too dangerous to share.
