Cody felt the weight settle deeper into his chest. The stalker was still out there. Still unknown and probably biding his time until he could get near Cody again. Men like that never just stopped. Reid’s arm tightened around him, and Cody leaned into the solid warmth of him, trying not to think about how long this could go on.
Reid kept him close, an arm around his waist, as Cody sat on the kitchen stool, cradling his coffee. Every small act of domestic normalcy felt sacred, especially now that they had cemented their bond. Reid’s hand on his back. The warmth of the mug in his hands. Sunlight pouring through the windows.
"Thank you," Cody said suddenly.
"For what?"
"For being here. For staying. For making me feel like I'm worth protecting."
Reid tilted Cody's chin up and kissed him slow and deep.
"You don't have to thank me," Reid said against his lips. "Protecting you, taking care of you—that's not work. That's who I am."
Cody was coming to realize that and despite everything, it made him feel safer than he had any right to feel.
Chapter Eight
Cody
The days at the ranch settled into a rhythm that felt dangerously close to normal.
Cody wrote music. Reid ran security operations from his office. They cooked together, took walks along the perimeter trail, and spent evenings on the couch talking about everything and nothing before heading upstairs to make love. The bond between them deepened with each passing day, a steady pulse of connection that Cody had stopped questioning and started relying on.
Two weeks after Diane’s last call, Cody was sitting on the back porch with his guitar, working through a bridge that wasn’t quite right, when Reid came out with two mugs of coffee.
“You’ve been out here for three hours,” Reid said, handing him a mug.
“Has it been that long?”
“Your coffee went cold twice. I gave up reheating it and made you a fresh one.”
Cody smiled and took the mug. Reid sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched, and they watched the mountains in silence. The afternoon light was gold and soft, painting everything warm.
“I want to take a photo,” Cody said suddenly.
Reid glanced at him. “Of what?”
“Of us. Here. Right now.” Cody pulled out his phone. “I haven’t posted anything on my socials in weeks. My fans think I’ve disappeared off the face of the earth.”
Reid’s expression shifted, cautious but not controlling. “Are you sure?”
“I’m not going to hide forever, Reid. This is my life. You’re a part of that life now. I want people to see that I’m okay, and that I’m happy.” He stood then pulled Reid up to his feet before turning and prompting Reid to do the same. Then he leaned into Reid’s side and held up his phone.
“You don’t even have to show your face if you don’t want to. Just your arm around me with the mountains behind us.”
Reid considered for a moment, then pulled Cody closer and leaning the side of his head down against Cody’s. “Take the photo.”
Cody grinned at his mate and took it. In the image, he was smiling, genuinely smiling, the mountains stretching out behind them. Reid’s arm was around his shoulders, and he was smiling too. Cody’s breath caught in his chest as he stared at it. The photograph was perfect.
He pulled up his socials then posted the image with a simple caption: Home.
Within an hour, the post had thousands of likes. His inbox flooded with messages from fans, friends, fellow musicians. It seemed that the world was glad to see him again.
Cody felt lighter than he had in months.
* * *
Several days had passed since Cody had posted the image of him and Reid and the response had been great. Mostly. He’d seen a couple of nasty comments about his sexual orientation, but he’d anticipated those. Overall people had been positive and the overwhelming response was that he looked happy and that he should share more photos. He was sitting outside on the porch again, his head resting back on the house, turning over a new song lyric in his mind when a flash of something caught his attention.
